by Br. Jack Rathschmidt

The prophet Isaiah writes: “Thus says the Lord God, the Holy One of Israel: By waiting and by calm you shall be saved, in quiet and in trust your strength lies” (Isaiah 30:15).

Although I am deeply grateful for my life as Capuchin friar and priest, I wish I had read Isaiah when I first entered the Capuchin Order. Had I known that I would someday celebrate 65 years of religious life, I would have been calmer, more patient, and less driven, trusting that God would work quietly through me.

My early years of religious life were a time of little responsibility, during which I could have steadfastly focused on learning to live well together with my brothers and preparing myself to work full time in ministry. But having been schooled in the changes initiated by the Second Vatican Council, I felt anxious and impatient to finish studies in order to help implement the vision of Vatican II. Naïve perhaps but very real, my classmates and I believed that Vatican II was going to change the Church and the world, and we were eager to play a role.

Only a year after finishing studies for the priesthood, I was asked to return to school and pursue a degree in spiritual direction so I could help guide our younger friars through their years of formation. Though I enjoyed the work, I yearned for more contact with everyday people, and God answered my prayer. A priest friend introduced me to the Marriage Encounter movement, a program that changed me radically and helped me realize that married people had a vocation at least as important as mine and probably more vital to the life of the Church. What a gift it was to work with couples who discovered they had a vocation and began to take leadership in a Church that was very hierarchical. Even as I write, my heart is filled with the memory of so many holy married friends who forced me to look at the Church not as an institution that was run by priests and sisters, but as a community, a family that worked together for the good of all. The heart of the Church was the family, not the institutional priesthood.

The middle years of life as friar and priest invited me to face my pride and faults. Trying to get everything right and wanting to make a mark, to impact others’ lives with my vision of the Gospel, I made some serious mistakes. Elected the provincial minister of our New York/New England province, I tried too hard to be remembered and respected, and I found myself anxious and driven. Given heavy responsibility and asked to guide others, I wanted to help change our Capuchin province and the world quickly. Only slowly did I learn that my task was not to be successful but faithful, to plant seeds of hope. Too often, however, the desire to make things happen got in the way of humility. But God stepped in again and invited me to work with religious educators, most of whom were women. Voiceless for centuries both as community members and CCD teachers, the women I met were patient and kind. One reminded me with a twinkle in her eye that to take a step in the Church she would most probably have to drag a priest. I smile every time I think of her gentle humor.

These last 20 years I’ve gotten used to taking a back seat and handing over leadership and mentoring to younger friars and lay partners. Though I keep active as a traveling preacher and spiritual director for older people, I have much less to say, more time for rest and prayer and simply to be with others. God is good. God is patient, and I am learning to smile more, take a nap every day, and travel at God’s pace.