Michael Weaver: I was not ‘that guy’ anymore

I AM A DEACON

I am a deacon … and that frightens me. Don’t get me wrong. I am infinitely happy about God’s calling me to this ministry. I have no regrets about my decision. But at the same time, it is somewhat alarming how much of an awesome responsibility I have taken on.

I was ordained five years ago on a Saturday morning. The very next day, after my first Mass as a deacon, a parishioner came up to me and quietly asked if he could speak to me privately. Off to the side, he asked me to pray for him because he knew he would be facing a rough week at work in dealing with a supervisor and he wasn’t sure how to handle it. We spoke briefly and then he asked for a blessing, which I readily gave.

Then a wonderful woman who I’ve known for many years ran up to me, gave me a hug, and whispered in my ear, “You are just what this parish needs to shake it up.” I was stunned and mumbled something like “I’ll try.” Then a little girl shyly walked over and gave me a picture she had drawn for me. It was labeled “I’m glad God called you!” I had been a deacon for less than 24 hours, and I somehow had been miraculously transformed into this all-knowing, all-seeing saintly sage with instant credibility.

I have been a parishioner at St. Anthony Parish in Kailua since I was in kindergarten. (No, I’m not telling you what year that was!) People know me, know all about my family. Not once in my five years of preparation for the diaconate did anyone come up and ask me to pray for them or seek my advice on a problem. The day before ordination, I was Mike Weaver, parishioner, with no special insights into human nature, no ability to offer a prayer or a blessing for someone. There was no red “S” under my alb.

But the day after ordination? The skies opened, thunder clapped, and God bestowed upon me all the knowledge and wisdom of the ages. I was now “Super Deacon Weaver.” I wanted to yell out “I’m still me. I’m the same guy you’ve known for all these years.”

But then it dawned on me. I was not “that guy” anymore in people’s eyes. Now, as I stood before them at the altar, they saw someone else. They saw someone to whom they felt they could go for comfort and guidance, someone they could rely on to keep a confidence or help them with their marriage or their families.

I know what you’re thinking. (Deacons can read minds, you know.) Hadn’t I thought about this before? Didn’t I realize what I was getting myself into? Undoubtedly, on an intellectual level I had known this would be coming. But theoretical wisdom isn’t real wisdom. One of the first things I realized when I started teaching many years ago (again, no dates, please), was that everything they had taught me in college about being a teacher was theory, ideas in a book. Now, I was in a classroom teaching, learning “on the job,” so to speak.

In a very similar way, becoming a deacon is like that. In formation, I had learned so much in so many areas. I felt like this was exactly where I should be and I knew I was on the right path. But it’s after ordination that you really learn to be a deacon. It too is “on the job” training. Maybe it’s been a bit frightening. Almost five years in, I’m still learning. But, one thing is for sure. I AM a deacon … Now where did I put that Superman suit?

This is the first “I am a deacon” column, an occasional commentary by members of Hawaii’s permanent diaconate addressing the varied facets of their vocation.

Deacon Mike Weaver is a teacher at Chaminade University of Honolulu assigned as a deacon to St. Anthony Church in Kailua.