Autumn Jones is an educator and a journalist. She loves all things Colorado, country dancing and playing sports. Connect with her on Twitter @faithful_writer.
“Other seed fell on rocky ground where it had little soil. It sprang up at once because the soil was not deep… And some seed fell on rich soil and produced fruit. It came up and grew and yielded thirty, sixty, and a hundredfold.” —Mk 4: 5, 8
Though not a frequent camper, I know how easy (or difficult) it can be to pitch a tent. Ever try to pitch a tent in the middle of a snowstorm? Or early in the spring when the ground is still frozen solid? How about in the heat of a summer afternoon when all you really want to do is jump in the nearby lake?
The sooner you set up camp, the sooner you actually get to enjoy camping.
In the midst of winter, the ground, often thoroughly frozen, proves nearly impenetrable for tent stakes. The hammer hits the cold metal stake repeatedly—and rarely successfully—hoping for at least a half-inch with each strike. All the while, the camper is bundled, fingers frozen in bulky gloves, and the ground fights back. Each swing of the hammer produces a fierce vibration through the stake into the ground and, the soil unforgiving, gives it right back.
Tired and cold, the camper may give up entirely, leaving the tent stake-less, resting atop the soil, exposed to the elements and ready to be blown off course with the slightest winter wind.
Take that same tent off the trail and into the backwoods, perhaps later in the spring or summer. Faced with a different dilemma, the camper has to clear a campsite. Rocks present two options—remove every single one or work around them. Staking the tent between rocks may appear easier than finding an open space, yet if one of those rocks moves, the entire effort may unravel. Rocks are rarely perfect, evenly spaced or thoroughly anchored to the ground beneath. Thus, the camper risks great instability.
Finally, the camper ventures into an open meadow in early September. The ground is soft, warmed by the long summer months, malleable after the rich summer rains. Without a rock in sight, the camper carefully lays out all four corners of the tent. One by one the stakes dive readily into the soil, the earth open and willing. Firmly planted in the ground, the tent rises with ease. With the campsite set, the camper grabs his fishing pole and strolls casually to the nearby pond; the day, the adventures, the sunset waiting.
Those are the days when camping is “easy,” when the camper has more time to explore because his foundation has deep roots. Those are the camping trips when little worry is spent on the stability of the shelter, and, consequently, more time is available for campfires and swimming holes.
Our hearts are a little like that.
With an icy heart, we reject any of the love poured out for us. It ricochets off our frozen being—sometimes with great force—back to the hands of the one who loves. With a rocky existence, love knows not how to reach our deepest parts, caught instead in the shallow crevasses between our burdens. Neither allows for the development of roots, and both yield an uncertain existence.
Only when we are exposed, malleable, free from our own “rocks,” can we be open to the love of others and the love of the Father. Open, we risk an initial piercing of the heart that may be less than comfortable. But, once through the surface, love’s stake is able to work deep roots into our beings. Our stability becomes all the more reliable and our desire for love grows infinitely. With deep roots, we too can go freely to explore life’s many adventures.
Camping comes easily when the ground is available for the camper. Loving comes easily when the heart is available for love.
Happy Valentine’s Day.
COMING UP: Father and son, deacon and priest: Deacon dads and priest sons share special bond as both serve God’s people
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The bond between a father and son is one of God’s greatest designs; however, when father and son are both called to serve the Church as deacon and priest, that bond takes on a whole new meaning. Just ask these two dads and their sons, all of whom answered the call to serve the people of God at the altar.
Deacon Michael Magee serves at Our Lady of Loreto Parish in Foxfield, while his son Father Matthew Magee has worked as the priest secretary to Archbishop Samuel J. Aquila for the past several years and will soon be moved to a new assignment as parochial vicar at St. Thomas Aquinas Parish in Boulder. Deacon Darrell Nepil serves at Our Lady of Lourdes Parish in Denver, and his son, Father John Nepil, served at several parishes within the archdiocese before his current assignment as a professor at St. John Vianney Theological Seminary.
However different their journeys may have been, all four have something in common; mainly, that far from seeing their vocations as a reward from God, they have received them as an uncommon gift of grace that has blessed their families and individual relationships with each other abundantly, knowing that God acts in different ways to help us all get to Heaven.
Deacon Michael Magee was ordained in May 2009, at the end of Father Matt’s first year of seminary. Little did they know that God would use both of their callings to encourage each other along the journey.
Deacon Michael’s journey began when a man from his parish was ordained a deacon.
“I simply felt like God was calling me to do something more than I was doing at the present time,” he said. “I had been volunteering for a number of different things and was involved in some ministry activities and in the Knights of Columbus. And I thought the idea of being a deacon would be simply another activity for which I could volunteer.”
He didn’t know what it entailed at the time. In fact, he believed it was something a man could simply sign up for. To his surprise, the diaconate was more serious – and it required five years of formation and discernment. Yet he was so drawn to it, that he decided to do it anyway. But as he learned more about the nature of the diaconate during his formation, he became more nervous and unsure about whether God was really calling him to that vocation.
While his doubts remained all the way up to his ordination, Deacon Michael was faithful to his studies, trusting that God would lead him in the right path.
And God did — through the calling of his own son to the priesthood.
Deacon Michael didn’t realize that his son Matthew had paid close attention to his father’s faith journey and had found in it a light that gave him courage to discern the priesthood.
“Seeing my dad, as a father, growing in his relationship with the Lord was really influential for me on my own desire to follow Christ,” said Father Matt. “Looking at his courage to discern his own vocation and follow God’s plan in his life gave me the strength and courage to be open to the same thing in my life… He played a very important role, whether he knew it or not at the time, and whether I knew it or not at the time.”
On the other hand, Father Matt didn’t know that his dad was in turn encouraged by his own response to God’s calling.
“As I went through all those doubts, I watched Matthew’s journey in seminary and listened to how he was dealing with that in his life. And, as he just articulated very well, I also saw those same qualities in him,” Deacon Michael said. “Seeing a young man in his 20s willing to consider following God for the rest of his life also gave me the courage to continue on in my own journey, to see it through.”
God’s way of uplifting them in their vocations through each other’s journey is something they are very grateful for.
This unusual grace impacted Father Matt during his first Mass, when his dad, as deacon, approached him before the Gospel reading and asked for the traditional blessing by calling him “father.”
“It was a really special moment for me. He’s certainly my biological father and raised me. But then there’s something different when we’re at the altar in a clerical capacity — there’s a strange reversal of roles when we’re giving spiritual nourishment to the people — a father asks the new father for the blessing,” he said.
In both of their vocations, Deacon Michael and Father Matt see God’s Providence and the unique plan he has for all of us.
“We all have a vocation, even if it’s something we may not expect,” Deacon Michael concluded. “You may feel anxiety or worry about what it’s going to look like, but trust in God. He will take care of things as he always does.”
A bribe for Heaven
For Deacon Darell and Father John Nepil, the journey was different, but not any less providential.
While he grew up Catholic, Father John wasn’t interested in setting foot on any Church activity during his teenage years. His saving grace was perhaps what many parents have to do to get their teenagers to Church: bribe them.
“His mom and I basically bribed him to go to the Steubenville of the Rockies Conference,” Deacon Darell said with a laugh. “He didn’t want to go, but we’d heard so many good things about it, that we said, ‘We’re going to make this happen, whatever it takes.’”
So the Nepils came up with a creative idea.
“He owed me some money for a uniform that he had needed for a job in the summer. So, I said, ‘Listen, if you go to the Steubenville of the Rockies Conference, I’ll forgive your debt. And he did, he and his brother went. And John especially came back a different boy. He literally was converted with a lightning bolt at that retreat.”
To this day, Father John marks his conversion to Christ from the summer before his senior year in high school when he attended that conference.
As it happens with stories worth telling, the details of how much money he owed his father have varied over the years, and it’s a matter of debate among them, but Father John remembers it was close to $500.
“That’s subject to each one,” Father John said laughingly. “But what matters is that they offered to forgive my debt if I went to this retreat – it was money well spent.”
Besides this important event, Father John said that his dad influenced him in many ways by the simple fact of who he was as a father.
“My dad’s faith and moral character were a rock for me during some difficult teenage years,” he said. “He’s a great example of a man who was always faithful and lived a really outstanding moral life, but then as he deepened in love with Christ, he decided to give of himself in a more profound service.”
Besides his desire to serve and follow God, the seed that would eventually lead Deacon Darell to the diaconate was planted by a coworker, who would also take holy orders: Deacon Joe Donohoe.
“One day he said to me, ‘You should be a deacon.’ And, of course, I laughed at him and said, ‘I don’t have time for that. My life is too busy.’ But it only took him to suggest it for the idea to keep coming back to my head, and God kept nudging me. Eventually I decided I really wanted to do that,” Deacon Darell said.
The ability to share at the altar during the Mass has deepened the natural relationship of father and son and given Deacon Darell and Father John new opportunities to grow closer to God.
One of the most meaningful times came when Deacon Darell had a massive stroke in 2018. While he was in the hospital, Father John was able to visit and celebrate Mass at his bed and pray the rosary with him every day, as he had come back from Rome and was working on his dissertation.
“It was probably the most privileged and intimate time I’ve ever had with my father,” Father John said. “It was an amazing gift that really changed our relationship.”
“I feel like that’s a huge reason why I healed and why I am here today,” Deacon Darell added.
“It’s a real gift to have my dad as a deacon and a brother. It’s a tremendous honor. It’s one of the great joys of my life.” Father John concluded. “That’s really what has bonded our relationship together: the sheer desire to serve Jesus, especially in holy orders.”