Denver Catholic

22 JULY 23-AUGUST 12, 2016 | DENVER CATHOLIC What is a Deacon? O n June 18, 2017, the Catholic Church celebrates the 50th anniversary of the signing of "Sacrum Diaconatus Ordinem," (Sacred Order of the Diacon- ate) by Pope Paul VI. This ecclesial document is signifi - cant to the life of the Church as it restores the oŸ ce of the diaconate to a perma- nent position within the sacrament of Holy Orders. The Church uses the word "permanent" to mean that the deacon does not progress through the hierarchy of the Church but remains a deacon through eternity. So, what have we discovered about this vocation since 1967? First of all, we have learned that a deacon is not a priest nor is he a parishioner. He is clergy and an ordained minister with the indelible mark of Holy Orders. His vocation comes from his ordina- tion in which he promises obedience to the bishop and becomes radically available to Jesus Christ and his bride, the Church. We also know that some deacons are single; yet, many are married and have families. Most deacons have secular jobs and a few are employed within the Church. Deacons are also in the seminary. Men discerning the priesthood are fi rst ordained deacons and retain this charism into their priestly ordination. Regardless, all deacons are called by God to evan- gelize and bring the message of the Gospel to those in the workplaces, par- ishes, homes and the public square. We've learned that deacons are called to be an example of holiness; especially important to those who lack a positive role model in their homes and work places. A deacon is called to make frequent prayer an important part of his daily routine. As an icon of Jesus Christ, the servant who came to serve, not to be served, prayer proves to be essential for his ministry and his life. Every deacon prays in the morning when they wake and in the evening before they retire to bed. They often will spend 15 minutes a day read- ing Scripture and allowing God to respond to them. Each day is met with opportunities to encounter God in prayer and in deeds. In service, the archbishop sends the deacon out to accomplish the spiritual and corporal works of mercy. The deacon visits prisoners, cares for the sick, dying and abused, feeds the hungry, provides shelter to the home- less, wipes the tears from the sorrow- ful, and is a voice of the forgotten and helpless, including the unborn. In one example, a deacon min- istering to single mothers in the archdiocese tells me of the fi rst time a mother handed over her infant son for him to hold. As he blessed the child, the deacon was struck with gratitude as he realized the incredible trust the mother had just turned over to him. It was the fi rst time she had ever allowed her baby to be held by someone else since she had arrived at the home. In his ministry of the word, the deacon teaches and preaches in his parish assignment and witnesses to those in secular society. He proclaims the Gospel and occasionally preaches the homily. The deacon often teaches Perspectives The last Puritan statesman and the 2016 conventions H ad I the resources, the one new book I'd give every dele- gate to the national political conventions meeting later this month is James Traub's masterful biography, John Quincy Adams: Militant Spirit (Basic Books). Traub grabs your attention quickly, seven sentences in: "[Adams] did not aim to please, and he largely succeeded." Why? Because "he lived according to principles he considered self-evident. Others of his contemporaries did so as well, of course; what set Adams apart was that his principles were so inviolable that he eagerly sacrifi ced his self-interest to them. As president he accomplished very little of his ambitious agenda in part because he refused to do anything to reward his friends or punish his enemies. Such infl exibility is a dubious virtue for a politician." That's on page xi. Some 544 pages later, I had gotten the distinct impression that Mr. Traub wished there were a bit more principled infl exibility and disdain for self-inter- est in our politics today. And truth to tell, James Traub signals his admira- tion for his subject early on, catalogu- ing others of Adams' virtues that we'd do well to fi nd examplars of today: "Though he never wore a uniform or saw battle, Adams was a fi gure of immense physical and moral courage. His bravery was a form of patriotism. So complete was his identifi cation with the nation that came into being when he was a boy of nine that he did not fl inch at either the prospect of death or—what may be harder for men of great ambition—the wreckage of his career, so long as he believed that service to the nation required it." John Quincy Adams had a lot going for him: two remarkable par- ents, Abigail and John; natural gifts of intellect; a ferocious capacity for work; a heart that could be touched by tenderness. Yet what struck me in pondering his long life, during which he served in more great oŸ ces to greater eŠ ect than perhaps any other American, was Adams' constant determination to live virtuously. He believed that there were moral truths built into the world and into us; that we can know those truths by reason; that knowing those truths, we know our obligations; and that, with that knowledge, we fi nd the measure of how we should behave. His commitment to be a man of virtue went hand-in-glove with an abiding concern about the fragility of democracy—another recurring theme in Adams's long life in the arena. Nor was he alone in his determination and concern. James Madison may have drafted the Constitution knowing that he was not crafting an instru- ment of governance for angels. But Madison and the other Founders and Framers—be they Anglicans, Con- gregationalists, Unitarians, Baptists, Calvinists, or the occasional Catholic — were convinced that only a virtuous people could sustain an experiment in democratic self-governance over time, and they worried, rightly, that a virtue-defi cit, especially one that expressed itself in what they called "faction," could unravel the new republic. Similar concerns about republi- can fragility are probably not high on the worry-list of most convention delegates heading for Cleveland or Philadelphia this month. But they should be. The machinery of our democracy is not working very well right now. Authoritarian winds are blowing at both ends of the ideolog- ical spectrum. Political correctness is rotting our political culture, in a debauchery exacerbated by vulgar reactions to the "PC" police. "Fac- tion," in the form of gender, racial, or ethnic tribalism, is everywhere. How many 2016 convention delegates sus- pect that the national discontent has something to do with a virtue-defi cit in our national political culture? How many public oŸ cials, and how many of those who seek to lead us, know, like John Quincy Adams, the line they will not cross, if principle demands "Stop here"? Adams was the last great Puritan in American public life, most frequently celebrated today for his role in the Amistad case, in which he struck a blow against America's original sin, slavery. To my mind, however, John Quincy Adams stands out as a model for 21 st -century American politicians because he did not aim to please, but to do the right thing, irrespective of the cost. The Catholic Di¦ erence George Weigel is a distinguished senior fellow of the Ethics and Public Policy Center in Washington, D.C. GEORGE WEIGEL Guest Column Deacon Joe Donohoe is the Director of Deacon Personnel for the Archdiocese of Denver DEACON JOE DONOHOE

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