One of the stories I treasure in my heart takes place when St. Therese of Lisieux was praying in chapel. She shares in her autobiography that once there was a co-nun who was making strange noises in the pew behind her. St. Therese thought, “If I turn my back and speak to, or yell at her to confront this annoyance in my heart, then I would be just giving in to myself. Rather, I should be offering her up to God as one of the instruments in an orchestra making a beautiful symphony of the strange noises.” Hers is a simple way to trod the path to holiness.
I entered the minor seminary after sixth grade when I was 12 years of age. The first few weeks were tough. I remember my father visiting me one Sunday early on. He said, “Oliver, if you want to go home, I can bring you home now.” I replied, “No Daddy, I will try.” Perhaps he saw in my face that I might have cried the evening before. But after a couple of months, I did not want to go home anymore. I was being trained for a missionary priestly life.
College seminary followed minor seminary. After graduation, I went to work in the outside world. I was employed with United Airlines for five years. Then God hounded me back. When I returned to the seminary I said, “Lord, I don’t want to be a half-baked, half-cooked priest thinking that I can do this on my own. I really need you to send me someone to help me become a better and holier priest.” It was at that time that he sent me St. Therese of Lisieux. I read her autobiographical “Story of a Soul” four times. I realized that her convent life experiences paralleled my own in the seminary. She influenced me a lot.
I have always thought that a priest should be like a diocesan monk missionary — prayer-filled and open to go wherever God calls. In my life I realize that whenever I make a turn, whether it be left or right, God turns with me. Even if he thinks, “Oliver, you should go left,” and I make a right, he goes with me. He doesn’t say, “Okay, I said left and you went right, so I am going to leave you to yourself.” That does not happen. Wherever I am sent, it is an opportunity to grow with God. Wherever I am right now is where holiness is being offered and given to me. It is simply up for me to accept it, grow through and be perfected in it.
Malia Puka O Kalani is not a very busy parish. It is a small, kind community. I am very happy here. Unlike my time in the Archdiocese of Los Angeles where I split 11 Sunday Masses, with the additional abundance of quinceaneras and weddings each weekend, with one other priest, now I have a lot of time again to pray and be still. It is important to slow down from our spinning, because when we spin too fast, we miss out on a lot of things, even in seeing the grace of the day.
Father Oliver Ortega is from the Diocese of Malolos, Philippines. He has been pastor of Malia Puka O Kalani in Hilo a little over a year. The eldest of four, he is 11 years ordained. Before coming to the United States he also served as a seminary formator, spiritual director and theology professor.
