Permanent deacons ‘see God’s face’ in the people they serve

Steven Callen was in his early 30s, finishing up graduate school, when he felt a tug from the Lord during a deacon’s Sunday homily.

He had already been considering the permanent diaconate at some point in the future, but it seemed the Lord was telling him: Now.

So he picked up the phone, called Deacon Dale Follen in the Office of the Permanent Diaconate, found out that courses were about to start, and hustled to get his application materials in ASAP.

“When I joined (formation), I was married, but we didn’t own a house. I didn’t have a real job — I was in grad school. We had no kids, no mortgage,” he said. “All that changed during my five years of formation.”

He and his wife, Liz, adopted two sons with the help of the Archbishop Robert Carlson Adoption Fund. He started working at Bayer Crop Science, where he’s now a project manager. And since his ordination in 2020, Deacon Callen has found joy in serving the people of Holy Infant Parish in Ballwin as they walk through life together.

“I think there’s a lot that the deacons can do, perspective-wise, to help parishioners,” he said. “Having lived that family life, I think, helps me to relate with the young people within this community, helps me to offer advice on experiences that I’ve gone through.”

On Monday evenings, he’s a fixture at the Parish School of Religion, welcoming families and teaching eighth graders. He regularly assists at Mass and fills in to lead eucharistic adoration, Rosaries and bringing Communion to nursing homes as his schedule allows. One of his favorite roles is helping prepare couples for marriage, sharing the challenges and joys from his own experience.

His diaconate formation prepared him well for ministry, Deacon Callen said. He was introduced to the Theology of the Body, which he now teaches to his eighth graders. He gained a deep understanding of proclaiming the Gospel and the power of the Liturgy of the Word.

And: “Our diaconate formation program constantly told us, our first and top priority is our family,” he said. “…If your home life and if your family isn’t in a good spot, you’re probably not going to be a good deacon, either.”

Balancing all his roles takes some careful juggling alongside his wife, Liz, a social worker who counsels teenagers at SSM Health St. Clare Hospital in Fenton. But his ministry helps him grow in holiness to be a better husband and father, and vice versa, he said.

“I feel very proud when my kids attend Mass or see me serving as a deacon,” he said. “Sometimes when they come to Mass and I’m serving, they’ll come up in my Communion line and run up to me and hug my legs. I think the parishioners get a kick out of that, too.

“Seeing my kids’ faces light up when they see me serving the Lord, I think is good for me and good for them.”

On the margins

One Sunday a month, Deacon David Billing offers a homily not just once, but 11 times: once in each of the pods of the St. Charles County Jail.

“When I go to the jail, I see God’s face,” he said.

After serving in diaconate ministry for 12 years at St. Joseph Parish in Josephville, Deacon Billing was assigned in January to the archdiocesan Office of Peace and Justice. It’s a good fit for the deacon, who was particularly drawn to the ministry of charity from the beginning of his discernment.

Deacon Billing focuses on three main areas: prison ministry, the death penalty and immigration issues.

After prison and jail visits were largely shut down during the COVID-19 pandemic, the archdiocese is working toward the goal of having a Catholic presence in every prison and jail in its boundaries. Deacon Billing visits the St. Charles County Jail once a month — as often as the jail lets him — and has been reaching out to his fellow deacons to invite them to consider bringing Communion into nearby jails on a regular basis.

“You go to each pod, and the guys or ladies come out into the hallway, and then I read the Gospel for the day, give them that short homily, give them some reflection questions to think about, and say the Our Father,” he said. “Then I give Communion to the Catholics and blessings to those who aren’t Catholic. Everybody likes to get a blessing.”

On Sept. 24, Deacon Billing joined a peaceful protest in Downtown St. Louis against the execution of Marcellus Williams, then traveled to the Eastern Reception, Diagnostic and Correctional Center in Bonne Terre to pray outside the prison while Williams was executed.

He’s also working to empower parishes with more resources on the death penalty. He recently helped Northern Vicariate social outreach coordinator Kim Blackford develop a death penalty vigil toolkit, so parishes can host their own vigils for people who can’t make the trip down to Bonne Terre, and put together an educational PowerPoint with Church teaching on the topic and facts to dispel the most common myths.

“I don’t think a lot of Catholics realize that the death penalty is something we should be opposing, and it’s a pro-life issue,” he said.

Immigration has been close to his heart for many years. Deacon Billing, a pharmacist, and his wife, Chris, a nurse, have been participating in — and now leading — annual medical mission trips to Latin America for about 25 years, getting to know the people of Belize, Mexico, Ecuador and Guatemala and the challenges they face.

Back home, he’s started teaching ESL classes at St. Cletus Parish in St. Charles. He’s working on improving his Spanish — with a streak of more than 600 days of lessons on the Duolingo language-learning app — to help him better communicate with Spanish-speaking families.

“All the immigration talk on the news is just disheartening,” he said. “But you get to find out that these are regular people. They have concerns, just like we do. They have families that they care about. They want to work hard, they want to keep their families safe.”

Through the many facets of his ministry, his guiding passage is Matthew 25: “For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me.”

“Jesus is telling us, straight up, we should be caring for those on the border and on the margin, the ones that are kind of overlooked,” he said.

In the classroom

On a recent Tuesday morning, Deacon Tim Michaelree listened intently as his Ursuline Academy senior students gave group presentations on business ethics topics and their ties to biblical teachings.

Deacon Michaelree developed the course Business Ethics and the Gospel, drawing on his years of experience in management and commodities trading before a mission trip with a youth group prompted him to reexamine his life path.

“It was a light switch that showed priorities,” he said.

When he returned, he started to reevaluate how he could better use his life to serve others. He started teaching in a grade school one day a week, then got his teaching certificate to go full time. He also discerned the permanent diaconate, entered formation and was ordained in 2018.

Now, Deacon Michaelree’s school and diaconate ministry go hand-in-hand through his assignment to Ursuline Academy, a private all-girls high school in Oakland. When he’s not teaching sophomore theology or senior business ethics, he’s helping campus ministry with faith formation opportunities.

It can be difficult to find a priest to celebrate Mass as often as they would like, so he presides at occasional Communion services for the school. He also leads a grief group for students who are coping with the loss of a loved one or other difficult time.

He credits Father Don Wester’s homiletics courses with teaching him how to effectively share personal stories while preaching, whether that be during Mass or in the classroom. With his students, he jokingly refers to these nuggets as “true old man stories,” but the intention is the same: Be a witness, not just a teacher.

“It could be one of the real-life topics that come up in some of their projects, or it could be just trying to relate some of their questions about Christ,” he said.

Before school, after school and during activity periods, he keeps his classroom door open for anyone who wants to come hang out and do work or talk. Often, students will come to him with questions of faith. Already this year, two have expressed interest in becoming Catholic; he typically connects students to a parish Christian initiation group but would be willing to help prepare them himself at Ursuline, if needed.

“I think the most important part of my job is just being there for them,” he said.