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Fr. John (Jack) O'Callaghan, SJ

I was baptized by my mother's uncle, Joseph Peter O'Reilly, S.J., whom I too came to call Uncle Joe. A family legend (not remembered by anyone but Joe's sister, Aunt Nellie, who swore it happened) says that, after baptizing me, Uncle Joe took me over to Our Lady's altar and consecrated me to be a Jesuit! What is certainly true is that Uncle Joe sent me books and pamphlets on the Jesuits from the time I could read, so that by high school I was thoroughly brainwashed about the Society, though Uncle Joe was the only Jesuit I knew.

I went to a Xavierian Brothers high school in Louisville, KY, and every year dutifully filled out a questionnaire from the religion teacher saying "Yes--Jesuits" to the question "Have you ever thought of a vocation to priesthood or religious life?" I did think of it. I prayed a lot about it, sincerely asking to know God's will for what I ought to do with my life. But I knew what I really preferred to do with my life, and that had nothing to do with priesthood! I was a good student, and in those simpler days could have gone to any college I wanted. I thought I'd go to Georgetown and be a lawyer: it seemed like a good idea. Mainly, I loved life, had a really nice girl friend and a very active social calendar, and didn't relish the idea of "leaving the world."

At the same time, I really liked the Xavierian Brothers, and I was intrigued by the way they obviously liked each other, and the generosity and genuineness of their self-giving to us, their students. I never thought of becoming a Brother-- if I was anything I would be a Jesuit, about whose life I knew absolutely nothing, but presumed it would be like theirs!

I probably would have gone along like this -- thinking/praying about a vocation, but in the meantime moving along in high school toward college with a certain inevitability which would have won out -- except for two things.

First, I read a pamphlet by Daniel J. Lord, S.J. I'd read many such -- Fr. Lord was one of the champion 'pamphleteers" of his day, and Uncle Joe saw that I got most of them -- but this one hit me really hard. It was entitled The Call of Christ, and it retold the Gospel story of "the Rich Young Man." I was cocky enough to identify with that guy: I wasn't exactly rich, but I figured I would be in due time, and in the meantime I had just about everything a 17-year old could want. When Fr. Lord described him as "history's greatest failure" he got my attention. Instead of being one of the apostles whose name every Christian knows and who is a model for millions, this young man is known only as a nameless "might-have-been" who missed his chance totally! Christ loved him and called him -- and he turned Christ down. Whether or not the pamphlet said it, Fr. Lord implied -- and I got the implication clearly -- that the young man was not only unremembered, but damned. He wasn't in Scripture or in history books, he was in hell! That thought made my prayer earnest!

Then, in my senior year, Brother Boniface called me into his office. He was the Guidance Counselor, and my religion teacher. He reminded me of my yearly answers to the vocation questionnaires, and I acknowledged them with some embarrassment. Then he asked me what I had done about my vocation questions. "Uh, nothing, Brother." Silence. Then he told me calmly but clearly that I was to go home, write a "To Whom It May Concern" letter to the president of the nearest Jesuit school (Xavier University in Cincinnati) telling him I wanted to inquire about being a Jesuit, and bring him a copy of the letter the next day. In those days Guidance Counselors could do that....

I did as I'd been told, and in due time received a reply telling me to make an appointment for an interview with Fr. X at West Baden College in nearby Indiana. I did that too: after all, damnation was possibly at stake! After the initial interview everything else followed swiftly: physical exam, psychological exam (far less sophisticated then!), the four "official" interviews and, sooner than I could have thought and much sooner than I wanted, a letter of acceptance. It was a dark day in my life.

With the Rich Young Man a spectre in my mind, I decided that I had to give this a try. A good try, an honest try. I would go to the novitiate for a month and give it my best. By the end of a month it would be apparent that this was not for me, and I could come back and go on with my life in clear conscience, "serving God in the world." This was my reasoning, though it didn't leave me totally easy in mind.

I did it. I arrived at Milford, Ohio on August 18, 1949 and gave it my best for a month. For more than a month, because Long Retreat was coming in October, and I reasoned that I couldn't leave before that obviously important (though to me utterly mysterious) moment in Jesuit life.

And during the retreat, the Spiritual Exercises of Ignatius, God finally got through to me. I saw with a clarity which has never left me that, after all, I was being called to be a Jesuit. It didn't happen in a blinding flash of insight or with a vision, but it happened. The call of Christ became as real to me as to the Rich Young Man, and all sadness at the thought left, to be replaced by a sense of deep happiness I've never lost, despite surface tempests and occasional cloudy moments. And as the years have gone on, I've come to see Christ's call in a lot of other lives, and marveled at the ingenuity with which our loving God manages to get through to us......

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