My dear brother deacons, and you, their spouses and companions in vocation, a retreat day invites us to pause—to step back from schedules and responsibilities—and to stand once again where King David stands in our first reading: “Who am I, O Lord God, and what is my house, that You have brought me thus far?” David is not making a strategic plan. He is not reviewing accomplishments. He is simply astonished. Astonished at God’s initiative. Astonished that the Lord calls, chooses, and remains faithful.

That posture of astonishment is a holy one. It is the right place for a deacon—and for a spouse—to begin reflecting on vocation.

God’s call comes first

The diaconate is not primarily a role we assume or a function we perform. It is first a response to God’s call. Long before David conceived of building a house for the Lord, the Lord had already built a future for David. So, too, with you. Before you ever proclaimed the Gospel, assisted at the altar, preached, baptized, or served the poor in Christ’s name, God was already at work, shaping hearts, forming families, opening paths you may not yet have recognized.

This is why responding to God’s call can never be taken for granted. Vocation is not self-sustaining. It must be received again and again, renewed daily, and guarded with care.

A call that must be nurtured

Psalm 132 reminds us of David’s longing: “How can I find a place for the Lord to dwell?” For deacons and their spouses, that dwelling place is not first a building or a ministry assignment. It is the heart.

Your call must be nurtured, intentionally and faithfully, through prayer that is not rushed, through spiritual direction that is honest, through conversations that deepen rather than distract, through retreats such as this one that re-center the soul. It is nurtured through personal devotion and through visible, humble witness: in charitable works, in parish life, and, especially, during the sacred liturgy.

And here, dear spouses, your role is indispensable. You are not observers of this vocation. You are participants in it. Your encouragement, your patience, your prayer, and your faith sustain the deacon’s response to God’s call in ways that often remain hidden, but never unnoticed by the Lord.

Lamps on a lampstand

In the Gospel, Jesus is very clear: “Is a lamp brought in to be placed under a bushel basket or under a bed, and not to be placed on a lampstand?” The ministry entrusted to deacons in our diocese is essential, not incidental, to the Church’s mission. Through your service, the Church’s reach is widened, her compassion made visible, her preaching embodied, her charity extended to the margins.

You are placed on a lampstand not for accolades, not for recognition, and certainly not for self-promotion. The light is not yours. It is Christ’s. The lamp is your life, your fidelity, your integrity, your generosity, your perseverance in service.

Jesus also adds a sober word: “To the one who has, more will be given.” What we neglect dims. In other words, we will lose what we don’t care for. What we tend with care grows brighter. The grace of ordination bears fruit when it is lived intentionally and humbly, day after day. It grows, flourishes, and flowers into abundance beyond our wildest imagination.

A witness for the Church and the world

My brothers and sisters, the Church needs your light. Our diocese depends on your ministry to reach the widest possible population, those in our parishes, in hospitals and prisons, in charitable works, in the peripheries of life, and in the ordinary circumstances of daily life where the Gospel is often first encountered through personal witness.

Today, we are nudged in the reminder of that posture of astonishment: “Who am I, O Lord God?” We also renew our generosity in responding to God’s call, confident not in ourselves, but in the faithfulness of the One Who called us.

May your lamps burn brightly, not for your own glory, but so that all who see may recognize the radiance of Christ alive in His Church.