I’m both thrilled and nervous to be writing this, but I will do my best to articulate a bit of my life thus far and how Our Good God has led me to pursue a vocation. I was born on March 25, 2001, in Ft. Collins, Colorado. I was born in Pearland, a city outside Houston, Texas. My parents did not raise me in the Catholic faith, but we prayed before meals and tried to go to church on Sunday. My mom was a lapsed Catholic and my dad was really more of an agnostic Protestant. We went to a nondenominational church for most of childhood, until we stopped going altogether. My parents both worked in education. I greatly enjoyed basketball and it was a significant part of my life, so much so that when our competitive tournaments occurred on Sundays, we gave little concern with attending church.
Nonetheless, growing up I enjoyed reading the Bible and thinking about God. I was not, however, baptized in my youth. Frankly, I was so introverted that the idea of getting submerged in a pool in a large auditorium sounded awful. Overall, I am very thankful for the childhood that I had, though it was not without its crosses. When I was in middle school my parents divorced, and that led to a tumultuous season. Toward the end of high school, I began to desire to go to church again. My life had been turned upside down, none of my close family members save my maternal grandmother practiced a vibrant faith, and I had fallen into a peculiar kind of melancholy. By this point, I hardly thought of God or prayed anymore, though I never denied belief in Him. I wasn’t old enough to drive myself, but I would ask my mom to take me to our old church, and she would oblige. I generally enjoyed church, but it felt incomplete. It was around this time in senior year of high school that I began to rediscover my love of learning. I particularly enjoyed my government and literature classes and became fascinated with the Western cultural heritage. Things gradually settled down and I was preparing to head to college. I decided that I would be baptized; having seen God preserve me throughout this turbulent decade, I couldn’t explain it but I felt gratitude. I now attribute it all to Our Lady and my grandmother’s rosary.
I arrived at Baylor with the plan of studying political science with the desire to become a lawyer or professor, as I loved to read, study government, and hopefully earn some money. My freshman year I joined a fraternity; something about having a large group of men to support me and share collegiate life was appealing to me, introverted though I was. My freshman year concluded early in March when Covid hit, and we were dismissed for a time. I had spent my first year thus far enjoying my classes and newfound independence. It was a sort of reset all around, and I began to re-familiarize myself with the Bible and Christianity at large. Baylor, though not Catholic, has a strong and admirable Christian presence, a presence that forces one to make a choice as to how he will live after he experiences it. I had gotten a taste of it and wasn’t sure.
Upon returning to Baylor after Covid I met a young lady through a political science club. I never dated prior to university and I didn’t mind. But all that changes when you go to a major university in Texas. Well, we went on a date, and I knew I liked her. Confident that she would simply reciprocate my sentiments, I was caught off guard one day when she asked, with the utmost sincerity, “How’s your relationship with God?” I hesitatingly replied, “It’s good.” Blessed Fulton Sheen once said that to court a woman a man must first become worthy of her. Though unfamiliar with him at the time, I intuitively realized this to be true. After that date, I knew that I needed to get it together, if not for God at least for her. I know… not the best rationale. But God’s providence works in mysterious ways. I began to attend church in Waco and tried to establish some good Christian friendships on campus. While I wasn’t too sure about the whole active Christian lifestyle that I saw on campus, I genuinely did desire to live more for God. Thankfully, Baylor was fertile ground. Baptists love Bible studies, though none of the groups on campus ever responded to my inquiries. None except for a Catholic group called FOCUS. Now, I should mention that I’ve always felt drawn to the Catholic Church. Despite growing up and attending school in the Bible Belt, I never held antagonistic views or anything like that. On the contrary, I grew up thankful for her contribution to the world, especially the artistic and intellectual tradition. So, I was secretly happy that I could join a Catholic Bible study, even if my then-girlfriend, (somehow it worked out!) wasn’t too keen.
I began to attend weekly Bible study with a men’s FOCUS group; I also attended weekly “lifegroup” with my Baptist church once a week on campus. By this point, I made the decision to become a registered member at that church as a way to demonstrate my commitment to living a Christian life. This was sophomore year and a graced season. I dove into the privilege of studying the liberal arts at Baylor and got a taste for the pleasure of Christian friendship. I read Plato and Aristotle and the medievals for the first time. I even became our fraternity chaplain. I remember prepping a conference on the Surrender Prayer as a way to deal with finals stress. I also began, at the suggestion of my FOCUS leader, to learn a bit about the early church. I was thrilled, mostly because, on account of my Protestant conscience, I just assumed it was old history that didn’t matter. Fittingly, this was Lent. I began for the first time to fast regularly and attend Mass at a local church in Waco. I continued to attend both lifegroup and the FOCUS study, going to Mass on some weekdays and the Baptist service on Sundays with my girlfriend. By this point, I was gradually coming to see the remarkable unity of the Catholic Faith. I was introduced to the Church Fathers and St. Thomas, among others. I was amazed at the cogency and cohesiveness of the Church’s doctrine. Looking back, it must have been obvious to everyone but me that I was on the road to Rome. It was here that my seeking really began: I decided to study the development of things in the Church, especially between the Protestant Reformers (so-called), and the Patristics. I was blown away. “How did I grow up never hearing about St. Ignatius of Antioch?!” I thought to myself. I began to tell my Protestant lifegroup about these Patristic ideas without naming the sources, and they were thrilled. “Wow, that’s gotta be Calvin there”. Awkward. By now I made the decision to get baptized at Harris Creek (the Waco megachurch), because, while I wasn’t sure about becoming Catholic, I knew that the whole
tradition held to the doctrine of baptismal regeneration. Most Baptists, oddly enough, do not. It was a joyful weekend, though I was surprisingly sad at seeing some of my classmates being “re-baptized,” putting off their “Catholic religion for a real relationship.” My reading and seeking continued. I had gathered plenty of head knowledge, but I just could not wrap my head around the idea of the Sacraments, especially the idea of the Eucharist. It was one thing to read about a kind of early stage “Real Presence”; Transubstantiation was quite another. The scholasticism felt cold and distant. But I began to pray for the grace to see. I think most converts can relate to when they first begin to really take up Catholic things. I would begin, “Lord, I am sorry if I am offending You with this, but I think it may be true. Help me see”. Sure enough, our campus center offered a curious devotion called “Adoration”. I knew what Catholics believed about the Eucharist in the Mass, but I had no idea what this was. I began to go and ask Our Lord for help (if He was there, of course). Within a matter of months, I could not in good conscience continue attending my lifegroup. One of the pastors providentially asked me if I would be interested in leading next year’s lifegroup, and while I was flattered, I declined. I withdrew my membership and announced that I was becoming Catholic; I have not heard from my group since.
When I returned for the Fall semester of my junior year I began RCIA, reading more, and encountered the writings of an English cardinal named John Henry Newman. He has been instrumental in my life, though it wasn’t always smooth. Between my leaving the lifegroup and the Fall semester, I had entertained the idea that I could become an Anglican or something. Newman shut that down with efficiency; I dreaded it. I could not avoid this Cross. Terrified, I told our rector definitively that I would like to be received. Somehow I persevered in RCIA- which was robust and orthodox. Then, that day arrived. I was received into Holy Mother Church in November, on the feast of Christ the King. It was a beautiful liturgy, and nothing can compare to finally receiving He Whom I had come to believe in in the Sacred Host. I took Newman as my Saint and became close friends with my fellow converts. I was home.
I’ve always loved to travel. My mother especially instilled within me a love of the arts and literature, architecture, etc. I visited Europe twice in high school and loved it. As such, for the Spring semester at Baylor, I would study abroad. From St. Peter’s in Waco to St. Peter’s in Rome. Or so I thought, for upon arriving after a week of orientation I realized that there was an issue with my student visa, and I’d need to leave Rome. Thankfully, and providentially, there was another location through the program that would work, and it was in Florence. I loved everything about Florence, and living there was almost a kind of Sacramental. It was here that I met the Institute of Christ the King. We had the Latin Mass at Baylor, and I quickly began to appreciate it. It is a grace that for the whole of my Catholic life I have had beautiful liturgies and orthodox teaching; they seem to go hand in hand. Still an infant Catholic, I did not go to Mass all that much, and I had no regular life of prayer yet. But that changed that Spring semester. About one month in, my girlfriend broke up with me; it was a bittersweet semester. I began to make visits to the Blessed Sacrament at the Institute’s Church, appreciate the art around me, and make the most of my European experience. It was truly an edifying time, as I also traveled to see some beautiful
and historic places like Poland and Malta (and Rome about 5x). Travel now had a new meaning for me, I now saw travel as a sort of pilgrimage, and I took delight in being surrounded by Catholic culture and art. Further, though it took me four months, I finally mustered up the courage to speak with the canons at the Church, for I had begun to feel drawn to get to know them. I will never forget the sheer joy and peace of hearing the Divine Office chanted, and the beauty of a quiet Low Mass. I know now that I was made for a deep liturgical living. Something about seeing them pray, in cassock, along with always being ready to hear confessions was really attractive to me. Fast forward a couple months as the program was wrapping up and I decided to begin “discerning.” I realized till that point, I had never stopped to consider what God might have me to do with my life. I was just set on being a lawyer or professor because it was what I wanted. Sometimes the thought of priesthood would pop up when I saw a canon or a Dominican, but I would quickly silence those as I wanted to get married. Well, after my breakup I knew that I was not going to be dating for a while, so I decided I would begin to think about priesthood. I treated it primarily as a sense of duty. If God created me, then He has complete say in my life. I called up my FOCUS friend (who became my sponsor), and he encouraged me to get in touch with some communities that I liked. He also noted that he could “totally see [me] as a priest.” We had some men enter traditional orders at Baylor, and I always admired them. Moreover, at Baylor, we have a men’s discernment group and a good guide created by our diocesan vocation director. Upon returning, I joined and spent the whole of my senior year in serious discernment.
For the first time, I did not know what I was going to do after Baylor. I had to totally entrust myself to God. Before my senior year, I had the privilege of completing a summer academic fellowship in Dallas, where I studied under a Catholic scholar and wrote a paper on my experience with liturgy. Moreover, I saw the real power of Grace in the lives of my colleagues, as one now dear friend returned to the Church after several years. I was in a solid spot. I began to consider life as a professor. This program allowed me to read, write, lecture, and get paid for it, imitating the rhythm of an academic. And yet I was still so restless. I began to sense a vocation, and it has not left me (even when I wished otherwise). I returned to Baylor committed to discerning seriously, and I quickly began altar serving. As things got more serious, I made a visit to the Institute in Detroit and had a solid experience. I secretly hoped I would feel a huge relief upon leaving (as an indication that it wasn’t for me), but I didn’t. However, as I hadn’t been Catholic for 3 years yet, and had some student debt, I was told that I could not enter immediately after Baylor. So I decided to apply to the Diocese. The Diocese was the only place that could accept me immediately upon graduation and they could assume all my debt. After some prayer and hearing that the Institute was still an option for next year, I decided not to enter. This decision brought some serious disappointment from some, but I was encouraged by my peers and professors that they thought I made a good choice, and I was at peace. I still doubted a bit, however, and I wanted to ensure that I didn’t back out because of cowardice. As such, I gave the vocation director a call and told him. He generously offered me a spot to spend a semester discerning at their community house in Austin. I graciously accepted and began an online course of studies to keep me busy. I began to learn about Dom Prosper Gueranger and deepen my love
of Newman and Francis de Sales, all while making good friends. I am very grateful for this experience and the friends I made, and it confirmed that the diocese was not for me. I had been in frequent contact with the Institute and got to know a canon who was a friend of one of my professors. He has been a great help and encouragement in pursuing a vocation. I also spent this time getting to know a few East Coast Dominicans and really enjoyed it. Lastly, this season was marked by a two-week visit to Clear Creek Abbey in Oklahoma, to sort of reset the whole discernment season. I really enjoyed it there, but felt that the Institute was still a good fit, though I am open to wherever Our Lord wants me.
I’ve received so many graces and privileges in this time of vocational discernment, too many to list in this writing. At the same time, it has been very taxing at times, and I’ve experienced a very palpable sense of restlessness and longing. I do not ultimately know if I am called to be a canon, or a monk or friar for that matter, but I trust wholeheartedly in God’s Goodness. Our Sweet Lord has been teaching me much in the way of patience and confidence. Throughout these few years, I firmly believe that, despite my nerves and anxieties, that I am called to go forward with the Institute of Christ the King. “Lead, Kindly Light” has been my watchword for quite a while now, and though I do not know what will happen, I am filled with trust that Our Lord knows what is best for me.
