My dear brothers and sisters in Christ, today, on the eve of the great feast of Pentecost, the Church in the Diocese of Birmingham rejoices with the people of God gathered here at St. Francis of Assisi University Parish. It was here that the seeds of vocation were sown in the heart of Andrew Vickery, and at University of Alabama in Huntsville, John Paul Stepnowski opened his heart to hear God’s call more clearly. A very warm welcome to Bishop Baker, our emeritus bishop, along with my brother priests, deacons, consecrated women and men, families, seminary representatives from the Pontifical College Josephinum, and friends of Andrew and John Paul. It is here, in these various communities of prayer, of worship, and of service, that they first heard the gentle but persistent call of the Lord: “Come, follow Me.” Today, before your eyes, they are to be ordained as deacons of and for the Church — not for their own glory or comfort, but to serve the Gospel of Christ with their whole lives.

The Word of God today gives us clarity, direction, and encouragement in this moment.

From the Book of Numbers, we heard the ancient command of the Lord to consecrate the Levites for service: “They shall discharge his obligations and those of the whole community before the meeting tent by serving at the Dwelling [or Tabernacle].” In other words, the Levites were to help order the worship and mission of Israel, not by doing whatever they pleased but by assuming a very specific and sacred service. That is the spirit of “diakonia” — ministry of service ordered to something greater than ourselves. Deacons are not spiritual freelancers. You are being given a charge not invented, not self-determined, but handed down from Christ through His Church, through your bishop, to serve the people of God at the altar in proclaiming the Word, especially the Gospel, and to assist in providing for the concrete needs of the poor.

It is here that I remind you, Andrew and John Paul, that the poor are not some abstract category out there somewhere. They are names and faces you already know. Some sit in the pews of our parishes. Others you will meet in prison cells, in soup kitchens, in hospital rooms, and in homes where grief and poverty have taken root. Your diaconal service is not just liturgical — it is also profoundly incarnational. You are being ordained for service at the altar of the Eucharist and at the altar of human suffering. Christ is present at both.

St. Paul’s moving letter to Timothy gives us the moral character of the deacon — dignified, not deceitful, not addicted to drink, not greedy. Most of all, Paul says they must “[hold] fast to the mystery of the faith with a clear conscience.” This is not a calling for the halfhearted or the self-serving. Diaconal ministry will test your patience, your humility, and your perseverance, but if you hold fast, Paul promises, “[T]hose who serve well as deacons gain good standing and much confidence in their faith in Christ Jesus.”

And what is the standard by which a deacon is measured? Jesus says in today’s Gospel:
“Blessed are those servants whom the master finds vigilant on arrival”- not dreaming, not delaying, not negotiating but doing. The Lord blesses the faithful servant, the one who simply and steadily fulfills the work he was given. You are not being ordained to invent your mission, but to receive it and embrace it. The mission is Christ’s. The Gospel is Christ’s, and He entrusts it to you with humility and urgency.

Your fidelity to the ministry is not just for yourselves. It helps coordinate the broader mission of our parishes and our diocese. You will be called upon to help order and strengthen the local Church’s outreach and effectiveness. Your service will not be solitary. It will always be done in communion with your pastor, with your bishop, and with your fellow deacons and priests. It will require the discipline of obedience, not as a restriction, but as a freedom to be fruitful.

And so, I return to this holy place, St. Francis of Assisi University Parish, where the voice of the Lord first stirred in your heart, Andrew. How fitting that you, like Francis himself, begin your ministry here in humility and service. Francis stripped himself of everything for the sake of Christ. And to the places where you served, John Paul, may you always follow his path: joyful, faithful, and aflame with love for Christ and His people.

Andrew and John Paul, today you are clothed not with honors, but with the towel of the servant. The Lord is calling you to watch, to wait, and to serve. Never forget the words of the Master:
“I am among you as one who serves.” Blessed, indeed, is that servant “whom the Master finds vigilant on his arrival.” Amen.