"So if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation, old things have passed away, behold, all are made new. (2 Corinthians 5:17).
I was born and raised on a farm in West Limerick, Ireland, and I have happy memories of my childhood. The youngest of seven children (three sisters and three brothers), he had many relatives to visit or to receive at home after Sunday Mass. No one ever missed mass on Sundays in those days in Ireland, unless they were seriously ill. Absence was considered a mortal sin, it meant death and hell if one died without having confessed and received the priest's forgiveness. The priests were highly respected, even idolized. I decided that I would be a priest myself.
I remember when I was very young jumping out of my bed every morning and falling to my knees to say my prayers, which began with the Morning Office that my mother had taught me, along with the Our Father and the Hail Mary. I still remember the Sacrifice in the morning like this: "Oh Jesus, through the purest heart of Mary", which for me meant that to get to Jesus, I had to go through Mary. I also have a vivid image of kneeling in the kitchen every morning to pray the Rosary with the family, but more than anything I remember that the accessories of the Rosary were longer than the Rosary itself. Three Hail Marys had to be said for each neighbor who had a problem, as well as for all deceased relatives.
Arrival to the priesthood
So I applied to St. Patrick's College, a missionary seminary in Thurles, County Tipperary. I was accepted and began the six years of studies for the priesthood, which consisted of two years of philosophy and four years of dogmatic theology and moral theology, in addition to Canon Law and other subjects. We had no serious study of the Word of God, just a superficial academic notion of the Bible, but nothing with depth or meaning. Sometimes I regret that no one ever told me to study the Bible during those six long years. Anyway, without being born again, I probably wouldn't have been interested. I would have lacked understanding, since the eyes of my understanding had not been opened to the Word of God.
The long awaited day of my ordination finally arrived, June 15, 1953. It was a memorable occasion with a grand reception for family and friends. The celebration continued the next day, the day of the first mass, when most of the parish appeared for the young priest's first blessing.
Trip to north america
After a three-month vacation in my homeland, I sailed to New York with several other newly ordained priests, assigned to different places in the United States. My first designation was the cathedral in Sacramento, California, one block from the state capitol. I began my priestly tasks with great zeal and commitment to the work of the ministry; He was determined to do the best job he could and to be the best priest possible. I was assigned a room on the third floor of the cathedral rectory that had recently been vacated by a man who had a common problem among Catholic priests, alcoholism. I had to make several trips to the backyard garbage can to get rid of all the empty bottles I found in the drawers and shelves of the wardrobe. I was hurt because at that time I was a total abstainer and belonged to an Irish organization called the "Pioneer Association for Total Abstinence." (We identified ourselves by wearing a small red heart-shaped pin. When an Irishman saw that you used that symbol directly, he did not offer you alcoholic beverages.)
Humiliated in the confessional
I remember spending many hours in the cathedral confessional, I didn't want to leave it while there were people waiting in line. However, when the assigned schedule ended, the other priests did not seem to mind leaving the confessional. The result was that I used to show up late for lunch hours, and was mocked by others for my service to those who arrived after hours, especially the Mexican Americans. God had given me a special love for these humble and modest people, who in turn showed love to their "father" as they knelt and kissed my hand. This experience touched and humiliated me.
From the cathedral I went on to fill a vacancy in another parish in the suburbs where there were Irish staff. My new parish priest (in the United States we call them “pastor”) was a semi-invalid with three assistants, but I soon discovered that the real active pastor was the monsignor's sister, who was the housekeeper. She answered all calls to the door and the phone, and directed them to her brother whether they were looking for him or not. It was forbidden to enter the kitchen, as well as the dining room, unless one was invited by the housekeeper for meals. On one occasion he kicked one of the priests out of "his kitchen" with a carving knife, forcing him to take a chair to avoid being injured.
I was in that environment for five years while the old pastor was getting worse in his illness. This forced me to have more and more responsibilities in caring for the parish and, believe it or not, the housekeeper took a liking to me and we got along well the rest of my time there.
The heresy of activism
I was soon caught up in what I call activism heresy, which had consequences in my spiritual life. He still spent time in prayer before and after Mass and read the breviary (the official prayers of the clergy) daily. I prepared my sermons on Saturdays from outlines provided by the diocese. I enjoyed preaching because I had been taught to appeal to the emotions of the heart. But he had no preparation and no idea how to minister in the Spirit to the spirit of the people. It made people feel good and with that score I considered myself successful.
"Are you saved?"
In retrospect, I see an opportunity after about five years in the priesthood where God tried to reach out and guide me through a child, but I didn't pay attention to what that little boy was saying to me. I think I must have been waiting for a funeral to come. He wore all the attire for the funeral mass. There was no one around except the little black man who might have been three or four years old. He walked up to me and turned me around, all the time looking at me with his big eyes. Finally he spoke, saying, “Who are you? Are you a preacher? " Then he circled me again and looking me straight in the eye asked, "Are you saved?" I don't remember what my response was or my reaction to him, perhaps out of pity or prejudice. That little boy had asked me the most important question in life, and I had no idea what he was talking about. Obviously he understood what it meant to be saved and God was using him to get my attention, but to no avail. If I had known at that moment what I discovered twelve years later, I would have had to honestly admit to this child that he was not saved. I was 45 when I knew what that little boy had been talking about, when I learned what it was like to be saved, to be born again in Christ.
The role of priest
I had applied for a transfer and found myself on the outskirts of a farming community. It wasn't long before I welcomed Sisters Yvonne and N. to our parish in August 1968. From the moment we met, Sister Ivonne and I sympathized, as if we had always been friends. We kept our relationship on a professional level. We enjoyed talking and sharing views on various topics.
One day, in the middle of a discussion about a book, I asked her, “Sister, how do you think I function in the priesthood ministry? I want her to be brutally honest with me. " His answer left me frozen: “Father, I see that you do everything well, I see that you say all the correct words from the pulpit, I see that you fulfill your 'role' as priest well”. In other words, I saw myself in the role of priest. Although she did not perceive the full effect of her words, it was the critical point of my life. For me it meant playing a role on the stage of life. Shakespeare says "The world is a stage." I did not want to continue being a priest; I wanted to get off stage as soon as possible. Thus began long months of agony.
Sister Ivonne resigns
The last class for the Sisters came, before Christmas break, and I had been asking Sister Ivonne about the schedule for the coming year. It was the last class of 1968 and she still hadn't given me the program I requested. She finally fumbled in her purse, pulled out an envelope and handed it to me saying, "You really shouldn't do this, but I think you deserve to know." The letter on the envelope was dated May 1968 and addressed to his superior of the order, the Sisters of the Holy Family. In that letter he presented his resignation from the brotherhood. However, since he had vowed for a year, he offered to stay until the end of the year if his departure caused too much inconvenience. This is how they changed the destination to Mount Shasta instead of a larger convent in the San Francisco Bay area as planned. As I read that letter, which implied that I would not return to my parish, tears began to roll down my cheeks. She said, "What is it?" I replied, “I don't know. I guess I'm just shaken. " The children began to arrive for class and I left there, leaving Ivonne alone to face her class. It was the last time I saw Ivonne for several weeks. He left for the Mount Shasta convent the next day. That Christmas was bleak and discouraging, with lots of snow causing a lot of problems. The truth of the saying "Absence feeds the heart" became very apparent when I finally had to admit to God and to myself that I was in love with Ivonne. But it was clear that she wanted nothing to do with that kind of relationship because I was a priest and because of the high regard in which I held my calling. I didn't want to be responsible to God for my leaving the priesthood.
Mercy without power
I went through a lot of suffering, imploring God for direction for my life. Should I leave the priesthood? Shouldn't he? Could he stop the process that Ivonne had spoken of? I decided to give myself a chance and called the best missionary priest I knew to come and conduct a meeting in an effort to bring spiritual revival to my life and to the parish. We held the meeting the first week of Lent, but here I saw the characterization of what a meeting is supposed to be. The message sounded hollow, it was empty, it lacked passion for God. He had a certain form of piety (religion) but denied its power as Paul says in 2 Timothy 3: 5: "They will have the appearance of godliness, but deny the efficacy of it, avoid these."
I leave the priesthood
He was determined. Had finished. I wrote to Ivonne to tell her about my final, irrevocable decision and asked if I could go talk to her and have dinner together. He agreed and we went out to dinner, I will always remember that occasion at the Concord Dining Room near his home in Pleasant Hill. I convinced her that I would leave the priesthood even if our relationship never continued. Then I felt that I should say to her: "Ivonne, you have left the convent of your own free will, why can't I leave the priesthood?"
Suddenly she became aware of what she was doing with me and said: “Excuse me, I was wrong in trying to make you go back on your decision. But if you leave, you have to do it regardless of me. You have to know that it is God's will ”. I wrote to my bishop and told him of my decision and asked him to request a dispensation from Rome so that we could be married in the Catholic church. Ultimately that process was transferred to the Archdiocese of San Francisco. I assured him that I had secured a replacement priest for two months when I left. I left for the San Francisco Bay area with my few belongings in a small trailer attached to the parish car. I stopped by to visit the bishop of the Sacramento diocese and to assure him that I had arranged for the parish car to return to the diocese. He asked for the pink card, wrote on it and returned it to me saying: “Vincent, enjoy it. Now it is your car; you will need wheels ”. I will never forget that kind gesture.
Ivonne and I got married
I got to Oakland, where Yvonne had a little house on Lake Merritt. I settled there and she went back to her mother's house in Pleasant Hill. This was a peaceful place, a kind of shed where I began a process of healing from the enormous trauma that followed my final decision. I spent my days praying for a job and filling out applications. One day a friend from the Alameda Testing Department, a former Dominican priest, handed me an application that had arrived at his desk from Colusa County. I filled out the form, dispatched it, went for an interview and got the position.
Ivonne and I got married and moved to the city of Colusa. Finally the dispensation arrived and our marriage was blessed in the Catholic Church. Ivonne got a job as Director of the parish Confraternity of Christian Doctrine. Please remember that we were committed Catholics and so we were determined to continue. However, every time we came home after Mass, we felt empty, thirsty and hungry for the reality of God, for some spiritual food to chew and digest, but it seemed nowhere to be found. God had given us jobs, a beautiful home, and now a beautiful daughter, Kelly Ann. We were very happy and grateful to God for all his goodness to us. But we were looking for a deeper and more meaningful relationship with him.
Born again
One day we got a book about a priest who had been born again by the Holy Spirit. That was all new to me. The book was a testimony of his life and his encounter with God. Not long after reading that little book, Ivonne and I were invited to a meeting where a nun shared her testimony of God's power to save, and how she was born again. Well, I felt that the Lord had touched my heart and that He was speaking to me. When the invitation was made to come forward to meet the Lord, guess who were the first to be there. Right! Vincent and Ivonne. We prayed that he would be Lord in all aspects of our lives, and we immediately began to feel the difference. It was at that moment that I believe I was born again and had the assurance of salvation and the peace of knowing that my sins had been forgiven. Our prayer life began to have much more meaning and reality. The Bible, the Word of God, began to come alive and have more meaning as we read and studied it.
Saved by grace, not works
We began to attend a Bible study and delve deeper and deeper into the Word of God. As we did so, we discovered that many of the things that we had been taught as Catholics did not agree with the Word of God. In the final analysis, the Roman Catholic Church teaches a gospel of works (that is, salvation through the efforts of man, efforts to lead a good life and do penance for sins, as if Jesus Christ had not paid for all of that with his blood shed on the cross). Ephesians 2: 8-9 makes it clear that salvation is a free gift from God, received by faith, “For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God; not by works, so that no one can boast.
Only Jesus saves
We have seen the need for Catholics to separate themselves from the errors of Catholicism, as we have. The Lord Jesus has truly blessed our lives as we seek to serve Him. We have never been so happy. The Lord has blessed us with two beautiful daughters and has opened many doors to minister the Word of God and to pray for people.
Our prayer for all who read this testimony is that they may know the Lord and the power of his resurrection. Why not seek the Lord Jesus with all your heart? Accept that he, and only he is the Savior. He died so that we could live— in his Word (1 Peter 3:18) he says: “For Christ also suffered once for sins, the just for the unjust, to bring us to God. . . " . I want to leave you with an ancient Irish blessing: "May the road go with you, may the wind be always at your back, and may you be in heaven long before the devil finds out that you are dead."
Sincerely in your love and service, Vincent and Ivonne O'Shaughnessy Paradise, California If you would like to connect with us we will be very happy to hear from you.
Blessings!
Having transferred his pastoral duties to another person at Paradise Christian Center in California has freed him to minister more nationally and internationally. In 1992 he was ministering in his own native land, Ireland. Much of his time has been spent writing the book entitled, The Truth that Sets Us Free . He and his wife, Yvonne, continue to minister at the Christian Center School in Paradise, California.
[Source: https://bereanbeacon.org/es/de-una-religion-muerta-a-la-nueva-vida-en-cristo/]
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