We recently celebrated the Epiphany, the "manifestation" of God in the birth of the child Jesus. A week later, I feel like the celebration is only now beginning. We just received news that James wants to join the monastery and will return to begin his Postulancy in a few days. Every time one of these young guys shows up and tells you in all earnestness: "Father, I think God may be calling me to be a monk . . ." well, for me, it's like seeing Jesus born again. It is an Epiphany. Jesus is very real for me in the arrival of these young men. James is 29 years old and looks like he's about 20. Everyone is impressed by the guy. He is an unusually mature and thoughtful young man who has taught high school and also designed websites. The man knows what he's about. James came very close to being married, a relationship that ended because his fiance could not reconcile herself to a particular intensity with which he practices his faith. No doubt, this was a difficult time for James. Another young man might have become muddled and moved into a period of despondency and inactivity. James decided to join a Trappist monastery. His family accepts his decision but is not exactly celebrating it with "harp and timbrels". All this makes me reflective. A Vocation Director I respect very much said once: "The candidates who are coming to us these days &mdash these guys are pioneers." I think he's right about that. I suppose, when I was 26 and joined the monastery, I was a sort of "pioneer". No one in my "un-churched" family and acquaintances was really capable of celebrating or understanding my decision. The attitude of most of my friends, if I could characterize it in a few words was, a shrug and ". . . well &mdash o.k. Hope&mdash that all works out for ya." They couldn't really grasp what I was doing. I did it anyway. For me the vocation to monastic life was something ravishing but I couldn't explain it to people. It was an intimate and, I suppose, rather private conversation with Jesus that clinched it for me. Having had this encounter, I was more than happy to submit in obedience to whatever my abbot and formators asked of me. But the "call" didn't come from them. I very much desired but did not need the blessing of my parents, family, or friends to become a monk. Some young men I've met do need it, and they are not in the monastery today. Our Bro. Stanislaus, now in temporary vows, is a "pioneer". He came from an observant Catholic family in Illinois but will unlikely be joined in religious life by any of his siblings. Bro. Placido is a "pioneer" who comes to the American scene from Peru and has never been the sort of guy that needs a lot of recognition and affirmation to fervently live the monastic life. James is another "pioneer". You sense it powerfully when he talks &mdash the voice that comes from convictions that are very personal. A vocation to monastic life is born in a moment as quiet as Bethlehem. It is as surprising and mysterious as a child found lying in a manger over whom the angels rejoice.

Father Raphael