There was something striking about Deacon Day this week, standing in a church filled with brothers in ministry, our wives, widowed deacons, widows of deceased deacons, our Archbishop, Bishop, priests, and men still preparing for ordination. Across the sanctuary and banquet hall, decades of promises seemed to converge in a single moment: men once scattered by time and assignment now gathered again in one place, at the feet of Jesus, asking once more for the grace to remain faithful.

This Sunday, a Canaanite woman comes to that same place. She has every reason to believe she does not belong. She is a Gentile, a Canaanite, descended from a people historically separated from Israel. Yet she recognizes in Jesus what others fail to see: “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David.”

The beautiful Greek words behind her cry: eleēson me, Kyrie, “Lord, have mercy on me.” It is the cry we make at every Mass: Kyrie, eleison.

And then comes something every deacon eventually experiences: silence. Jesus doesn't answer her immediately. She persists. “Lord, help me.” Still she remains. Finally, Jesus reveals what was already within her: “O woman, great is your faith!”

St. John Chrysostom understood that Christ’s apparent silence was not rejection. Jesus was drawing forth her faith, making her persistence an example for generations of disciples.

Brothers, there are moments in diaconal life when Kyrie, eleison seems to disappear into silence. Ministry becomes difficult. Family needs us. Our bodies age. Assignments change. Prayer becomes dry. We wonder whether we are accomplishing anything at all. Stay there. The woman did not understand everything Jesus was doing. She simply knew who He was.

Perhaps that is one grace of Deacon Day. We renew our promises not because we know what the next year will bring, but because we know Whom we promised to serve.

Isaiah envisioned the day when God’s house would become “a house of prayer for all peoples.” The Canaanite woman is already standing at the threshold of that promise. She comes from outside Israel, yet through faith she receives a foretaste of the salvation that, after the Resurrection, Christ will send His Apostles to proclaim to every nation.

Brothers, that mission has reached us.

And through our ordination, Christ sends us toward others, especially those who may believe they are too far away, too wounded, too sinful, or simply do not belong. We are ordained not to guard the doorway, but to serve Christ as He gathers His scattered children home.

So when the Lord seems silent, remain at His feet - When ministry becomes difficult, remain - When prayer feels dry, remain - When you wonder whether your service matters, remain.

Kyrie, eleison.
Lord, have mercy.

And keep asking. Sometimes great faith looks remarkably simple: It refuses to walk away!

In Christ the Servant + Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam
Receive + Believe + Teach + Practice