It was cold outside but warm inside. That might sound more like the beginning of a Christmas tale than a story of the beginning of one’s vocation. But either one is the story of the gift of God—of Christ Jesus—who defines every vocation. A gift can contain many surprises, and so can every vocation.

It was only 5 degrees outside the Cathedral Basilica of St. Louis on Dec. 14, 1985, when I was ordained to the priesthood by Archbishop John May. The cold weather was one of those odd details I still remember concerning the greatest day of my life—the day I said yes to God and fully embraced his calling for me in life. Despite the freezing cold, I couldn’t have felt warmer in my heart, knowing that with God’s grace I was answering a call that others had helped me hear and discern. Little did I know then, much less earlier in my life, where God would take me once I said yes.

I am not unique, nor are our priests and religious, in receiving a call from God. In fact, he calls all of us to a specific vocation in life. Unfortunately, today many of us have lost the sense of vocation and the prayer needed in order to discern the special gift God wishes to give each of us. So many people now confuse vocation with one’s profession. But a vocation—to the priesthood, the deaconate, religious life, or the married or single state—is so much more.

It is a mystery. It is a call from God, and it is his choice. It comes from him and is his gift. God also desires to give this gift to us through the Church, and there it grows and is fulfilled.

I have to admit that I might not have recognized God’s call if not for the prayers, example, and wisdom of a number of people in my life. To these and many others I am eternally indebted.

I think every vocation is first influenced by the environment of the home. Certainly the strong witness of parents in a loving and committed marriage does much to teach children about sacrificial love, the heart of every vocation. For those who feel a calling to the priesthood or religious life, the example of their parents’ love for each other offers a beautiful image of the heavenly bridegroom’s love for the Church and the bride’s love for Christ. I am so grateful to my parents, Frank and Helen, as well as to my brothers, Bob, Larry, and Joseph, for their special role in preparing me for my vocation as a priest.

I am also very grateful for the example and joy of the priests who were such a part of my faith journey in life. I am particularly grateful to Monsignor Lloyd Sullivan and Father William Scheid, the parish priests of my youth at Epiphany of Our Lord, where I also went to school. What first struck me about them was their joy in living their priestly vocation. Joy is such a great evangelizer and the best vocation director. It was Monsignor Sullivan who helped me commit to my calling and to begin my seminary training, all within the span of two weeks.

Another priest who has been instrumental in my journey is Bishop Robert Shaheen of the Maronite Eparchy of Our Lady of Lebanon, based in St. Louis. When I was a youth and a college student, then–Father Shaheen employed me at St. Raymond Maronite Catholic Parish, of which he was pastor at the time. He hired me to mow the lawn and to do a wide variety of tasks in the parish.

One of his great gifts to me was helping me better appreciate the rich tradition of the Eastern Rites of the Catholic Church, to which the Maronite (Lebanese) Church belongs. He is the reason I have bi-ritual faculties to celebrate Masses for Maronite Catholics. He was a co-consecrator, with Cardinal Justin Rigali as my principal consecrator, at my ordination and installation as bishop. I figured anybody who fired me and rehired me no less than six times should also help ordain me.

Here, I wish to recall the memory of a dear friend who I believe to be numbered among the saints: Archbishop Francis Mansour Zayek. He was the bishop of then–Father Shaheen and was the founding bishop of the Maronite diocese in the United States. He was the first person I told that I felt called to the priesthood, and I credit his wise counsel and prayers for helping me to better follow God’s call—as a layperson, a priest, and a bishop. Even with his recent passing, I continue to call upon him for his prayers and his help.

I also wish to recall the memory not only of Archbishop May, who ordained me a priest, but also Cardinal John Joseph Carberry, Archbishop Emeritus of St. Louis, who ordained me a deacon on May 1, 1985. That was the feast of St. Joseph the Worker, to whom I have a great devotion. Cardinal Carberry, through his example, also gave me a deep love for Our Blessed Mother. I now have his pectoral cross as a wonderful reminder of his service to Christ and his Church.

Many people have helped me better live out my priestly vocation. One was my first pastor, Monsignor Thomas Woracek, who taught me much as a young associate pastor.

But one of the wonderful surprises of answering God’s call was working for Cardinal Rigali while he was archbishop of St. Louis. I learned so much from him and am so indebted to his wise counsel and mentoring as a priest and bishop.

In the same year I was ordained a priest on the feast of St. John of the Cross, Cardinal Rigali was ordained a bishop on the feast of the Triumph of the Cross (Sept. 14, 1985). As I celebrate my silver jubilee, I honor the golden jubilee of a priest, mentor, and friend who has taught me so much about the cross of Christ.

Many of you have heard the joke that if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans for the future. This is one of the reasons I chose “Jesus, I trust in you” as my episcopal motto. I think God might still be laughing about the plans I envisioned for myself when I first answered his call to the priesthood. All I can say is that I am so grateful he has been the one calling the shots in my vocation.

As I experience the joy of my silver jubilee, I am so very grateful to the many who have inspired me by living their own vocation in a perpetual jubilee of joy. They have helped me recognize “his star” rising before me so I might “worship him” faithfully each day (Matthew 2:2). Every vocation is a gift and a mystery. Don’t be afraid of the “tidings of great joy” that God offers each of us, called by name (Isaiah 45:3).

History fascinates me, and every year as Independence Day approaches, my thoughts turn to the events that formed us as a nation. Of course, I love to celebrate baseball and hotdogs—two things that have come to define us as Americans—but there is something unique about our country and our liberty that sets us apart as a nation.

The first visit of Pope John Paul II to the United States in 1979 is etched in my memory. I had recently graduated from St. Louis University and was discerning God’s calling to the priesthood. I could not have imagined then that in 20 years’ time I would be in charge of coordinating the pope’s last visit to the United States, when he came to St. Louis in 1999.

I still recall the words of John Paul II when he visited Ellis Island, standing beneath the Statue of Liberty where these words are inscribed:

Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me. I lift my lamp beside the golden door!

Commenting on this great symbol of our nation and these words of hope, John Paul II challenged us not to forget that without the truth that comes from God alone, liberty loses its foundation—and that it is Christ who truly sets us free (cf. John 8:32).

Traveling to Philadelphia that same day, John Paul II highlighted the words of our Declaration of Independence, which he called a most “remarkable document” in the history of man: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.”

Although this is the most commonly quoted part of the Declaration, I am struck by the words it closes with, expressing the commitment of the 39 men whose signatures would immediately follow: “And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor.”

Unfortunately, our nation has not always been committed to applying these rights to all people. Two examples in our history are the Dred Scott decision of 1857 and Roe v. Wade in 1973. As any student of history can see, some of the most tragic events in the world have been preceded by an abandonment of the sacred truths about man and his relationship with God. Sadly, the Civil War, the most costly war in our nation’s history, with more casualties than all of our other wars put together, followed in the wake of the first court decision. How I pray that we will be spared a similar fate of deadly division as a result of the second court decision.

In one of the great ironies of history, Robert E. Lee, who commanded the Confederate forces during the Civil War, first turned down an offer extended by President Lincoln to command the Union Army. Two years later, on July 4, 1863, General Lee withdrew his forces from Gettysburg, following the bloodiest battle of the Civil War. Many saw in this event what they believed was a divine sign that our nation would once again be united.

But though at this time of year we celebrate the struggles and sacrifices, both political and of the battlefield, that have helped preserve our freedoms, we mustn’t forget that liberty is above all spiritual and involves a constant struggle against what truly enslaves: sin.

On those Sundays of the Fourth of July weekend when we often close Mass with the hymn “America, the Beautiful,” I try to make a special prayer of one particular verse, when we sing, “America! America! God mend thine every flaw, confirm thy soul in self control, thy liberty in law!” I pray also that all of us may experience the freedom that best helps us to be the face of Jesus.

Women religious have always played an essential role in the Church’s growth and missionary endeavors. One need only think of the many sacrifices and contributions of the Sisters of Mercy of the Americas (South Central Community) and the creation of St. Mary’s Hospital in 1930. Today St. Mary’s Health System treats more than 1 million patients a year.

I am also thinking of the Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart of Jesus “Ad Gentes” who minister so effectively to our Hispanic brothers and sisters. I am likewise grateful to the many other women religious whose countless contributions have helped our diocese become what it is today.

With this in mind, I am greatly pleased to welcome The Evangelizing Sisters of Mary, first founded in Northeast Uganda, to our diocese. They bring their charism for catechetical instruction, teaching, health care, and social ministry to our diocese. Their main charism, though, is planting the Church among people who do yet believe in Christ and to bring the Church to its full development where it is already growing. We will initially be joined by three sisters: Sister Maureen Ouman and Sister Claudia Aya, who will teach at Sacred Heart Cathedral School, and Sister Dorothy Njala, who will assist at Catholic Charities.

As you will remember, last year our diocese was blessed to welcome another order, the Religious Sisters of Mercy of Alma, Mich. These sisters, in addition to their vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, also profess a fourth vow, one of service, which is lived out through the spiritual and corporal works of mercy. Sister Maria Lin Pacold, who has been here since the East Tennessee foundation was formed, recently departed for Tulsa, Okla., in order to complete her medical residency training. I will greatly miss her, but I am pleased to welcome in her place Sister Mary Elizabeth Ann McCullough, who joins us from Portland, Ore.

Sister Mary Timothea Elliott, RSM, recently joined us from Denver after many years teaching at Saint John Vianney Theological Seminary, where she was the founding chair of the Scripture department. She was also one of the seven founding sisters of her order and is therefore referred to as “Mother” within her order. Sister has a doctorate in sacred Scripture from the Pontifical Biblical Institute in Rome and is a scholar in ancient and modern languages. She will be a great blessing to us as diocesan director of the Christian Formation Office.

We are also blessed by the growing presence in our diocese of the Dominican Sisters of the St. Cecilia Congregation, whose motherhouse is in Nashville. They have been a visible presence in East Tennessee for 60 years, since they first began assisting at St. Mary School in Oak Ridge, and on June 25 the congregation will celebrate its  150th anniversary. The sisters have also assisted at Knoxville Catholic High School since 2005 and will begin serving at Notre Dame High School in Chattanooga and at St. Joseph School this coming fall. The congregation has doubled in size over the past two decades, to more than 250 sisters, which is a wonderful sign of hope and blessing to the Church.

Last year we were most blessed to receive a special gift from outside our diocese that made possible the purchase of a convent home near my residence for the Sisters of Mercy of Alma, Mich. This outside party once again has blessed us with a special gift in honor of Justin Cardinal Rigali and has permitted the diocese to purchase a house that will serve as my new residence. This is providential, as the Sisters of Mercy, who expect more sisters to arrive soon to help with their work here, will move into my larger former residence. This will allow the Evangelizing Sisters of Mary to move into the Sisters of Mercy’s vacated convent home.

A bishop’s residence is far more than simply a home. It’s a center of diocesan hospitality as an inviting expression of the “Father’s house.” It’s a place where the bishop can gather with not only his priests and with civil and religious leaders from the community but also with members of his flock and parish leadership teams. It is, as President Andrew Jackson once said of the White House, the “people’s house.” But it’s also a place where the welcoming message of the Gospel is shared. Its chapel is an expression of the cathedral church and an intimate place of prayer and the sacraments, where friendships unite around the “breaking of bread.” This home will also be a place where Cardinal Rigali, in future years, will spend a significant amount of time.

When I reflect on my youth and how my own calling to the priesthood was helped and strengthened by the witness, prayers, and sacrifices of consecrated religious sisters, I feel truly humbled and grateful. Please join me in thanking Our Lord for the gift of so many vocations and for those whose lives are dedicated to being a gift to the Church and to the priesthood.

As a young boy attending the church and school of the Epiphany of Our Lord in South St. Louis, I still recall the ceremonies and processions, with the statue of Mary and everyone singing the hymn, “Bring Flowers of the Fairest,” with its refrain, “O Mary, we crown thee with blossoms today! Queen of the Angels, Queen of the May . . .”

All this came back to me again this past week as part of a pilgrimage to Poland’s famous shrine, Jasna Gora (literally, “bright mount”), where the icon of Our Lady of Czestochowa is enshrined. Icons are one of the great gifts of our faith and proclaim in line and color what Scripture communicates by words.

I have always been drawn to this image of Our Heavenly Mother holding the child Jesus. The reason for this attraction has little to do with the artistic quality of the image.

The dark facial features of Mary in this icon have caused many to refer to her as the “Black Madonna of Czestochowa.” Her right cheek was scarred by the desecration of an invading soldier’s sword nearly 600 years ago, leaving two deep furrows that almost give the appearance of tears. Though her expression looks like one of sorrow, she seems to beckon those who contemplate her gaze to make a complete offering of themselves to her. But she seems especially to desire our hardships and sorrows, which she takes and hides within her dark blue robe patterned with golden flowers.

Having then purified our offering with her maternal tears and care, she seems to offer, with a gesture of her right hand, everything to Christ. In turn, with his right hand raised, Christ seems to bless the offering from his mother, while embracing the Book of Gospels in the other.

When Pope John Paul II made his first visit to Poland after being elected pope, he returned to Jasna Gora to thank Our Lady of Czestochowa and to remind his countrymen and the entire world of Mary’s maternal love and care for each one of us. He reminded them of the birth of the Church at Pentecost in the Upper Room, where the Apostles had gathered in prayer with Mary. He reminded them that the Church is our spiritual Mother in the likeness of the one who is also the Mother of God. And finally he called us to consecrate ourselves to her and often to visit that Upper Room of prayer with Mary.

In contemplating this icon, which meant so much to Pope John Paul II, we can better appreciate his apostolic motto, Totus tuus, which is the beginning of the prayer of St. Louis De Montfort: “I am all yours, and all that I have belongs to you, O most loving Jesus, through Mary, your most holy Mother.”

But any discussion of the Blessed Mother would be incomplete if we failed to mention the importance of the rosary, the great school of Mary, through which we contemplate with her the face of Christ.

To highlight but one of the mysteries of the rosary—the finding of Jesus in the temple—we learn something of the broader maternal vocation of Mary in the reply of Jesus to his mother: “Why did you search for me? Did you not know I had to be in my Father’s house?” (Luke 2:49).

Jesus was where he was supposed to be—in his Father’s house. But as Mother of the Church, Mary goes in search of each of her children wounded by sin in order to help lead them to the Father’s house, most especially when they have lost their way in life and despair of hope.

As we approach the great Solemnity of Pentecost, let us recall and heed the words of Mary at the wedding feast at Cana: “Do whatever he tells you” (John 2:5).

My mother, Helen, loved to garden, and with her caring hands, every springtime she skillfully nurtured a new garden’s life to maturity and fruitfulness. Perhaps that is one of the reasons why Mother’s Day is celebrated when it is: the season speaks so much to the nurturing gift that is particularly a mother’s.

My mother’s love extended well beyond the life she brought into this world. She welcomed not only my brothers, Lawrence and Robert, and me but also my adoptive brother, Joseph. I am so grateful to her for the gift of Joseph in our family. And I am likewise grateful to Sandi Davidson and those who assist her at Catholic Charities of East Tennessee in laboring so hard to make adoptions possible as a part of Pregnancy Help Services.

I recently was reminded of the preciousness of life and the special blessing of a mother’s love during a visit with Deacon Joseph Hieu Vinh and his daughter, Trang, while they were recovering at Vanderbilt Medical Center following the tragic accident at Immaculate Conception Church on Holy Saturday. When I entered Trang’s room, I was greeted by her mother, Lehang, whom we know affectionately as Cathy. She had not left her daughter’s side since the terrible accident, and I could see the exhaustion in her face from the suffering in which she had shared. But I also saw a mother’s tremendous love, which could never be exhausted in nurturing her child back to health.

I couldn’t help but think of Our Blessed Mother at the foot of the cross of her son and how she suffered with him for love of us. I was also reminded of the figure of Veronica, about whom we know so little except for her act of kindness to Our Lord that we celebrate in the Stations of the Cross. Just as Veronica was left with the sacred image of Our Lord’s face on the veil she had offered him, Cathy had also captured the image of Christ in her acts of motherly kindness. In our daily witness to life, isn’t that what we are all called to do?

It seems to me that the sacredness and dignity of human life is most evident in the vulnerability of the weak and suffering, who are therefore especially deserving of our care and protection. This is certainly true of life in the womb as well as the life of the elderly. Because of their frailty, society increasingly views them as a fiscal burden and advocates programs of veiled euthanasia.

Defending human dignity even entails defending the life of those whom we are most tempted to dismiss. I’ll never forget a specific moment during Pope John Paul II’s 1999 visit to St. Louis, which I helped coordinate. In that moment the Holy Father leaned over to Missouri Governor Mel Carnahan and in his thick Polish accent said, “Show mercy for Mr. Mease.” The governor knew exactly what the pope was asking: on the day of the pope’s arrival, Darrell Mease had been scheduled for execution for a triple murder he had committed in 1988. But so that the execution would not coincide with the pope’s visit, it had been set to occur after his departure. At the pope’s request, however, Gov. Carnahan commuted the sentence to life in prison without parole. I remember clearly the governor’s saying, “How could I say no to the pope?”

I pray a similar miracle will occur here in Tennessee and that a son’s appeal to Governor Phil Bredesen for clemency on behalf of his mother will be granted. Gaile Owens, scheduled to be executed on Sept. 28, was convicted of the contract murder of her husband 25 years ago. After a long struggle to forgive his mother, her son is now leading the appeal for clemency. Following the example of John Paul II, I will make my own appeal to Gov. Bredesen and ask him to show mercy to Gaile Owens. I ask that you join me—for every life is precious, whether the life of a child in the womb or the life of a mother on death row.

On the last day of his visit to St. Louis, Pope John Paul II concluded his homily with these words, which I ask you to reflect on: “If you want peace, work for justice. If you want justice, defend life. If you want life, embrace the truth—the truth revealed by God.” This is how mercy and love triumph.

Let me close by wishing a happy Mother’s Day to all mothers. May God bless you!

The joy the Church speaks of is both divine and human. I saw this joy in the faces of our priests, deacons, religious, and laity during Holy Week, despite its being a time when the Cross becomes even more predominant in our lives and calls us to a greater emptying of ourselves.

This is the joy I saw in the faces of my brother priests during the Chrism Mass, when I consecrated the chrism and blessed the oils that will be used in administering the sacraments this year. Biblically, oil is not only a sign of cleansing and healing, beauty and strength, but also a sign of an abundance of joy.

This is the joy of the sacramental life we see in the faces of catechumens, when they are sealed in baptism and anointed in the Holy Spirit—a sign of belonging totally to Christ.

This is the joy I see particularly in the sacrificial life of our priests. How proud I am of these men who radiate the joy of Christ despite the many sacrifices they are called upon to make in living out their priestly vocation. During the Chrism Mass, as they renew their priestly commitment, I asked them, “Are you resolved to unite yourselves more closely to Christ and to try to become more like him by joyfully sacrificing your own pleasure and ambition to bring his peace and love to your brothers and sisters?” How is it possible to ask of our priests, much less anyone, to joyfully sacrifice even the licit pleasures of life for the sake of the Gospel?

The answer to this question I saw clearly in the face of Father Evan Eckhoff, OFM, who because of his hospitalization at St. Mary’s could not join us that evening. During my visits with him, I could see that even though his body is afflicted, his life proclaims even more intensely the Gospel, which is above all a Gospel of joy. In his suffering, he remains a witness to the charism of joy with which he was marked in the sacraments of baptism, confirmation, and holy orders. In the 17 years he has been in our diocese, he has been and remains a special witness and reminder to all of us of the abundance of joy that comes from the Holy Spirit. Please pray for him and for all our priests who suffer and labor for the Gospel.

I am also mindful of the joy we see in the service rendered by our deacons to our Church and in the sacrifices of their spouses as they quietly labor to support the needs of our priests and laity alike. Theirs is an example of how all work can be transformed into sacred labor when it is done for the Lord.

I am always awed by the consecrated and sacrificial witness of our religious sisters and the radiance of their beauty and joy as brides of Christ. Is not the call to holiness a call to be beautiful for Our Heavenly Bridegroom? How grateful I am for this special light of joy and peace that our sisters bring to our diocese.

I was reminded in a special way of the importance of the oil and charism that mark the sacramental life of the laity while visiting our state capital two weeks ago during Catholic Day on the Hill. It is the laity in particular who are called to be a leaven of joy in this world as the face of Jesus. If anything is urgently needed in the shaping of public policy today, it is the joy that comes from knowing Christ crucified and risen. I could not help but think during my meeting with Governor Phil Bredesen and Lt. Governor Ron Ramsey, as well as several other representatives and senators, how important it is for our laity to be advocates not only for the transformation of structures in our society but also of hearts.

The irony of our faith is that the joy of the resurrection comes through the cross. It is my fervent prayer that all may be the face of Christ, which also means being the face of joy. May God richly bless you during this Easter season.

Well, let me tell you, my sisters and brothers, I love being a bishop because I love being a priest. To be a priest and a bishop is truly a humbling experience, and I truly believe that I am not worthy. But I do believe in the Lord’s call.

A good friend of mine, Father James Swift, the former provincial of the Congregation of the Mission, known as the Vincentians, recently gave me some great material to reflect on. I spoke to him about how I still do not understand fully what it means to be a bishop of the Church. I spoke to him about how I still find it very difficult to believe. I told him I am still processing the very idea.

After years of administration in the Archdiocese of St. Louis, I understand the administrative aspects of running a diocese, even though I can no longer use the line I used so often when I was faced with a difficult decision. So often I would say, “Well, I’ll bring it to the archbishop and see what he says.” But now, to quote that famous Missourian Harry S Truman, “The buck stops here.”

My dear friend Father Swift said that if I truly believe the Holy Spirit is part of the decision-making process of the Church, if we believe that the Holy Spirit guides the Church, if we believe that the Holy Spirit guided the cardinals to choose the Holy Father, who eventually chose me to shepherd the Church of Knoxville, then even though I might believe I am not worthy to be a successor of the Apostles and bishop of this diocese, I have been chosen.

So to answer the question “What is it like to be the bishop of Knoxville?” I say without equivocation, that I love being bishop of the Diocese of Knoxville, for it allows me the opportunity to be a pastor: to be pastor of a Church from Helenwood to Chattanooga, from Kingsport to Townsend, from Soddy-Daisy to Crossville and of all the different parishes and institutions I am privileged to serve.

As a pastor I witness daily the face of Jesus in the work of Marriage Encounter and Cursillo and Search, in the work of the Ladies of Charity, and in parishes that adopt other parishes throughout the world, especially in Haiti and Colombia.

In the beautiful cultures that make up the fabric of the church of East Tennessee and the languages that speak of the faith that allows us to know God. In the commitment of my brother deacons and priests from around the world who are so committed to be another Christ to the people they are called to serve with a spirit of humility.

In the 10 seminarians who are studying for the diocese and the six or seven men who are now contemplating joining them in September.

In the consecrated women who serve the church so faithfully.

In so many different ways I see the face and the voice of Jesus.

It brings me joy to pray with you. In the Eucharist, the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, in confirmations and church dedications and parish-hall festivities. In fish fries and visits to the parishes that make up this wonderful church of Knoxville. It brings me joy to stand behind the bench at a high school football game and root for our team, as so often I feel like the owner of a team. To sit in the stands of a gymnasium and see a well-played basketball game by our young men or women. To sit at a baseball game and enjoy America’s favorite pastime, hoping someday one of the members of the team will play for the St. Louis Cardinals.

To hear children sing at school or to sit in a cafeteria and chat with those with so much life ahead of them and to hear about their dreams and celebrate with them the occurrences of their life.

To witness a stage production or choral festival or the servers who are excited about serving at Mass for the first time.

To witness daily the work of Catholic Charities and how its staff represents Jesus. The faithful teachers at our schools who give so much and make so little.

To the Knights of Columbus and their families who are so good to the Church and our community in so many ways.

To witness the dedicated service of those who work at the Chancery and in other areas of the Diocese. Those unseen people who do so much for the Lord and his people.

With all of this, to reflect why wouldn’t I love to be a bishop—and the bishop of Knoxville.

To truly see the face of Jesus, to see how he is trusted by so many. Most Holy Father, Pope Benedict XVI, I thank you for this privilege, and I pray daily that I may be worthy.

Also, thanks be to God for the work of those involved in vocation recruitment. You know, we may have as many as seven new men entering the seminary this fall. These men, God willing, will join the 10 who are already in formation. But with this gift comes a very practical challenge to our budget. So now I come to you.

The average cost of supporting a seminarian in the Diocese of Knoxville and in effect in the United States is about $45,000 per year. We have to provide certain things, such as insurance, and give them a small stipend, as well as pay for tuition, especially in theology.

Well, given the 10 men who are already studying for the Diocese of Knoxville and with the possibility of five to seven more—which is indeed a great blessing—I have now authorized, after consulting with the priests and finance council of the diocese, a second collection that will be taken up each year to help with the formation of these young men. This year the collection will be taken on Easter Sunday. Then we will evaluate to see whether this is the right time. This yearly collection will assist in the formation of those who wish to serve you, the people of God, in East Tennessee.

I also ask your prayers for those who are preparing to be received into the Church at the Easter Vigil. Pray for the candidates and catechumens and their families as they prepare for this special journey. In some ways their journey is complete—but it is also just beginning with the Easter Vigil.

Spring is beginning to surround us in East Tennessee. Let us be mindful that the beauty of spring is truly a gift. For it reminds us of the gift that comes to us from God. As we all continue our journey of Lent, let us pray that we will continue our commitment to be Jesus to others. And so my sisters and brothers as I complete my first year of service to you, the people of God of East Tennessee, that is my prayer, through the intercession of St. Joseph, the faithful husband of Mary and the protector of Jesus and his model in life. I pray through the intercession of St. Joseph that we might continue in our journey together, united by Jesus, to give praise and thanksgiving to God that the Lord will continue to bless us. Until next time, God bless you all.