Living the Call. Michael Novak
I would yearn for greater spiritual engagement, but that feeling would usually disappear amid the busyness of life.
But about a dozen years ago, with some significant professional and material success under my belt, I began to feel that something was missing, that maybe these three things in my life—my family, my faith, and my career—shouldn’t be separate. And maybe the balance among the three wasn’t quite right.
So I started to pray.
I had this soft inkling, no great thunderbolt, that God wanted me to become more involved in the Church, even to speak or preach there or to be of service in some way. The message seemed to come out of nowhere. The extent of my involvement in church until that time had been to sit in the pews and help with fundraising. But a little voice kept pushing me. So I thought, Okay, I’ll go down this path a little bit. So I did some research. I consulted with my pastor, Monsignor Lloyd Torgerson, as well as some other friends and acquaintances. And I even did some reading in canon law. What I found surprised me: there was nothing in Catholic doctrine that should prevent me from speaking in church, except custom, as long as certain rules were observed. Moreover, I discovered there were plenty of opportunities to become involved in daily parish life, partly because of, no doubt, the decline in vocations.
Maybe, just maybe, this inkling had some substance to it.
As part of my due diligence, I went to talk to an old friend of my father’s, Michael Novak. His kindness and his enthusiasm about the idea of greater lay involvement in the Church led to what, for me, has become a life-changing dialogue. We talked about the future of the Church and all the difficulties it faces in the coming years. The internal crises standing before the Church—including the steep decline in the number of clergy—and the external pressures from an increasingly secular society are going to make the 21st century a challenging one. But my conversations with Michael made me hopeful about the future of the Catholic Church and about the opportunities for laypeople to deepen their faith, both from an interior and exterior perspective.
In the years since Michael and I first discovered the common interest we had in encouraging lay vocations, we both became sidetracked with other projects. Then last year, we met again and were reminded of that original spark of an idea.
I was grateful to have the opportunity to revisit this subject—both to reflect on it personally and to pursue a systematic study of the lay vocations.
It became clear as I began the research for this book that there had been dramatic developments regarding lay participation in the 10 years since Michael and I first spoke, all of them consistent with the promise of the Second Vatican Council. Reading the statement by the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, “Co-Workers in the Vineyard of the Lord,” it was impossible not to be excited about and inspired by the broad varieties of opportunities for laypeople:
All of the baptized are called to work toward the transformation of the world. Most do this by working in the secular realm; some do this by working in the Church and focusing on the building of ecclesial communion, which has among its purposes the transformation of the world. Working in the Church is a path of Christian discipleship to be encouraged by the hierarchy. The possibility that laypersons undertake Church ministries can be grounded in Scripture and the teachings of the Church, from St. Paul to the Second Vatican Council and in more recent documents. “Sharing in the function of Christ, priest, prophet and king, the laity have an active part of their own in the life and activity of the Church. Their activity within the Church communities is so necessary that without it the apostolate of the pastors will frequently be unable to obtain its full effect.” (Lumen Gentium, n. 33)
Today in parishes, schools, Church institutions, and diocesan agencies, laity serve in various “ministries, offices, and roles” that do not require sacramental ordination but rather “find their foundation in the Sacraments of Baptism and Confirmation, indeed, for a good many of them, in the Sacrament of Matrimony.” (Christifideles Laici, n. 23)
The impact of these words hit me hard because the meaning was unmistakable. The days of “pray, pay, and obey” were over.
More roles were being offered to laypeople. Our Church understood how the talents of laypeople could be put to good use whether in the parish, in Catholic schools, or in myriad other places, helping others in matters of administering the affairs of the organization.
There is so much energy among the laypeople I have met—and so much untapped potential. My own father became a Eucharistic minister at age 65. I saw firsthand the great fulfillment it brought him. And I wondered why he didn’t start sooner. I think he would say he wished he had but that he was too busy with his career and his family. And I wondered if other people might feel the same way or simply do not realize how much they could gain by getting more involved in the life of the Church.
In my parish of Saint Monica’s near Los Angeles, I have seen firsthand the lay leadership in our high school, in the parish business affairs, and in a majority of the 69 ministries that are presently on offer. I have been a member of the finance council for many years, together with other parishioners who help oversee the finances in collaboration with our pastor.
A few years ago in that capacity, I met Bob Buford, a successful businessman and the author of a book called Halftime, devoted to helping middle-age people do something significant with their lives. He likes to talk about how when you’re younger, you want to devote 80 percent of your time to your job and your family and 20 percent of your time to other things. But slowly, the priorities start to shift as you get older. Your 40s and 50s, he says, are the “bridge years.” Bob calls this transition “going from success to significance.”
Well, I’m 59 now, so I guess you could say I’ve come to this shift a little bit later than many. My wife says I shouldn’t beat myself up over it.
But now I’m ready to cross that bridge. I don’t feel like I should devote the bulk of the rest of my life to getting a greater return on my financial investments. I want to make a positive difference in people’s lives. I have found a calling. And if this book can help others do the same, well, I’ll thank God for that.
A WORD FROM MICHAEL
In the fall of 1963, just after we were married, my wife, Karen, and I took a ship to Rome to be present at the Second Vatican Council, which was about to open its Second Session (of four). Karen wanted to create a series of prints on the Apocalypse of St. John. My aim was to pay our way by writing articles first and, with luck, to accumulate enough material to write a report on the Second Session such as the layman Lord Acton had published about the First Vatican Council.
For laypersons in the Church, it was rapidly becoming a heady time. Suddenly, we were accorded (even by priests and bishops) uncommon respect and attention. The “new” and the “relevant” ascended in authority. The “traditional” and the “authoritative” seemed in decline.
After I published my book The Open Church, about the proceedings of the Second Vatican Council, I was often invited to speak and to write on “The New Layman” or “Dissent in the Church”—in which I was not so much promoting dissent as pointing out its utility, even necessity, in coming to ever-nearer approximations to the truth of things. I was asked to address “The Role of the Laity.” Oh yes, also, “The People of God”—then the new, preferred way of saying “Church.” The Church is not just the hierarchy; it is the whole people.
The French philosopher Étienne Gilson wittily pointed out that it is not good for the Church to have too many really good popes in a row; such good fortune tended to create a top-down dependency. Now and then, he wrote tongue-in-cheek, a bad pope—a scandal-ridden pope—was a blessing for the Church. For it reminded all that ours is a Church of sinners and that our faith’s dependence is not on the morals of our clergy but on the unshakable fidelity of God to us.
Witnessing the birth of the new role of laypersons in the Church, their new eminence and recognized responsibility in their own vast domain, affected me permanently. I have remained interested in the ups and downs of the past turbulent decades of changes in the life and role of laypersons