A blessing and a hug have marked my life, and even if the following rendering misses some of the details, as the Italian saying goes: Se non è vero, è ben trovato (even if its not true, it sounds good).

My parents met at St. Johns high school during the chaotic years of the late 1960s. Despite the deeply rooted faith of their rural Iowa farming community, they were never more than cradle Catholics, not particularly into religion. A diving accident and miraculous recovery just a few years into their marriage brought them to a deeper appreciation of their faith, and both of my parents became actively involved in the Charismatic Renewal, which sparked their conversion experience. A short time later, when my mom was beginning to show her fourth pregnancy (me), my parents approached Fr Louis Greving a local parish priest they trusted as spiritual guide to seek his counsel on some issues they were facing. Without warning, he began praying over my mothers womb and then said to my startled parents, This one will be anointed by God.

Nearly two years later, my parents decided I was old enough to stay home with my older siblings and the babysitter while they attended a weekend prayer conference in Kansas City. It was especially hard for my mother to separate from me at the end of the weaning process, and though my tears and plaintive cries tore her heart, they did nothing to reverse their decision. Needless to say, upon their return my mom was eager to hug and hold me, but when she walked in the front door and called out my name, her little baby boy shied away from her embrace and from that point on refused to show the same affection as before. Silly defensive tactics of babies.

My parents never mentioned either the blessing or the refused embrace to me during my childhood or adolescence. Perhaps it was their attempted detachment, or perhaps the assassinating of captured toads, or the ongoing theft of quarters to play the new Pac-Man video game at the local Dairy Queen that convinced them that this little rascal was not meant for the priesthood though perhaps for a juvenile delinquent school.

The Initial Attraction

One day around my fifth year perhaps under the influence of the doughnuts stolen from the parish combined with drinking holy water from the font I announced to my dad that God wanted me to be a priest. Surprised at the declaration, he took me to see our parish priest who smiled and patted me on the head. My older brother found out and he nearly dissuaded me from the idea when he said that I had to kiss a girl before I could become a priest; as soon as my parents assured me that was not true, I resumed my previous career plans. From that time on, I would always tell people that I was going to be a priest when I grew up.

During those years regular prayer group meetings, the daily rosary in family, occasional religious conferences, altar serving, and active involvement in our local parish all helped strengthen my faith and establish solid habits of piety and virtue. Through the rocky years of adolescent development, the strong faith of my parents and their desire to follow Gods will in their own lives despite their own weaknesses, failings and some adverse circumstances also set a powerful example for me. Throughout all this time I continued to look forward to the blessing of becoming a priest.

Avoiding the Blessing

Around my eleventh year a dramatic change in life shook up the idea of me becoming a priest: I discovered girls and realized that I liked them a lot. It dawned on me pretty quickly that this newly awakened interest and the idea of the priesthood could not both win out, so I began working hard to convince myself that the priest thing was not for me. What I had formerly considered a blessing, I now pushed away with disaffection. Whenever someone would mention my former interest, I was quick to laugh it off as childish aspirations long since outgrown. I went so far as to justify my new abhorrence for the priesthood by singling out three characteristics that it took to become a priest: (1) you couldnt get a job, (2) you couldnt get a girl, (3) you were a total loser. Since I did not find myself fitting the criteria, how could God possibly call me to the priesthood?

As if to drown the idea even further, I got progressively involved in school and extracurricular activities football, basketball, track, band, choir, Quiz Bowl, NHS, youth groups, etc. and met as many new girls as possible. Yet whenever I would take a moment for prayer or silence, or after attending Catholic youth conferences in Steubenville, Notre Dame, and other locations, the idea of the priesthood would persistently come back. It seemed the more that I pushed it away, the more God sought new ways to extend his blessing and embrace.

At the beginning of my junior year of high school things began coming to a head. Encouraged by a talk at the Steubenville Youth Conference on the need for personal prayer, I had begun to set aside time each day for spiritual reading, even attending daily Mass and spending time in the adoration chapel. The sense of calling grew stronger and I knew I needed to do something about it, either to debunk it once and for all or get serious about following Gods call.

The Call Inside

I felt a sense of urgency. Yet I also felt a strange division, because on the one hand it seemed that God was calling me to the priesthood, but on the other I was not at all attracted by what I had seen of a parish priests life, despite the fact that I deeply admired my pastor. I felt drawn to missionary life, to going beyond rote sacramental duties, to a dynamic life of apostolate, to the most challenging areas for evangelization at home or abroad. After a spiritual direction with my pastor, he gave me a Vision catalogue, full of advertisements from various religious orders. I sifted through it, picking out the ones that looked young, vibrant, faithful to the Holy Father, and with a special devotion to the Eucharist and Mary. I sent for more information and over the next weeks began to receive literature from the Capuchins, Salesians, Oblates, Divine Word, and others. I flipped through their promo pieces and was glad to see all the good things they were doing, but they just didnt resonate in me. At least, that is, until I received the letter from the Legionaries of Christ.

A simple 3-4 page letter from Fr Anthony Bannon described the history, spirituality, formation, and mission of the Legion. As I read through, I found myself identifying with each line, and by the time I reached the end I was nearly in tears. I walked the sheets over to my mom in the living room, showed her the letter and said, This is where God wants me.

Despite the clarity of the initial attraction to the Legionary ideal, it was still just that: a distant ideal. I was still divided interiorly, not ready to leave behind all the world had to offer, eager to date girls and explore other options, pushing back that embrace from my heavenly Father. It would take a bit more insistence.

Embracing the Blessing

A few months later, in the spring of 1993, I visited the University of Steubenville with the idea of possibility attending school there like my older sister and brother. I thoroughly enjoyed the visit, and on the return drive from the airport I began pensively praying the rosary. While driving under a railroad overpass on Highway 169 in Ft. Dodge, Iowa, I had the clearest sensation that college was not the place for me, but that God was calling to be his priest. This certainty came in an interior way that left no room for doubt. As I voiced my interior yes, I began to cry, not from sadness, but rather from a deep joy.

In June of that same year my family attended a Marian prayer conference in Omaha, Nebraska. As we walked toward the registration booths, a woman approached me, and without warning or further introductions asked, Are you thinking about the priesthood? A bit taken aback, I replied with a startled, Yes. She was Terry Moran, the national promoter of Adoration for Vocations and one of the first Regnum Christi members from Sioux City, Iowa. She got me in touch with Father Ernest Daly LC who visited my family ten days later. He invited me to visit the candidacy in Connecticut if I was really serious about discerning.

I visited the novitiate from July 15-31 and already by the first day my prejudices had fallen by the wayside: I couldnt find any of the 70 young men there who fit my three characteristics. There wasnt one loser in the bunch; on the contrary, here were guys who had been successful in all walks of life lawyers, doctors, college athletes and they were giving their all to Jesus Christ. Frankly, their authentic charity and love for the Church inspired me, not to mention the great basketball games! By the end of the first days I was convinced this was the place but I was still struggling to hold onto the world and so many other promising life options. I saw the extended arms, but felt again the temptation to protect myself by pulling away.

I distinctly remember the night I made a visit to the Blessed Virgin in the courtyard, presenting to her this interior struggle. Mary, give me the courage to say yes to Gods plan. And simultaneously, with a type of inner illumination I sensed, I am giving you the courage, but will you say yes? At that moment I embraced the blessing. A wave of profound peace and joy washed over my soul. Since that moment, throughout these fourteen years of formation, his loving presence has continued to sustain me. I ask his grace to continue in his embrace throughout life and into eternity, and through my priesthood, to bring this same experience to many more.

Father Daniel Brandenburg, LC was born in Bancroft, Iowa, March 30, 1976. He grew up amidst the adventures of small-town America, tempered by a hard-working farm ethic. After attending Catholic grade school in his home parish in Bancroft and later West Bend (diocese of Sioux City, Iowa), he went on to a public high school. In September of 1993 he entered the novitiate of the Legionaries of Christ in Connecticut and later continued studies in classical humanities at the same location. He now holds a bachelors and license degrees in philosophy from Regina Apostolorum University in Rome, Italy, and is currently pursuing an advanced degree in moral theology at the same university. He is author of the book The New Fundamentalists: Beyond Tolerance, published by Circle Press in 2007.