Extraordinary Lives (Ave Maria Press) is a book of their personal stories by thirty- four priests, ordinary, run-of-the-mill priests, and a couple of bishops. It makes good reading.

One of the accounts is that of Bishop Leonard Olivier, S.V.D. He tells of his being made bishop. Put in temporary charge of the largest black parish in Louisiana, he was having a very hard time. The people did not like losing their pastor, and half of them did not like the temporary one, half did. It had involved their going to the Bishop.

Then, one day, Archbishop Pio Laghi, the papal nuncio in Washington, called. "The Holy Father has named you an auxiliary Bishop of Washington." At first, Fr. Olivier thought it had something to do with his present situation. "You know I am in the midst of a very messy scene here?" "Well, if you become a Bishop, someone else can take care of it." "Are you sure you have the right man? There is a Father Oliver 20 miles down the road. I have an extra "i" in my name." "No, we have the right man and we know how to spell your name." "But I am 65 years old!" "What's that got to do with it?" "Besides, I am not a good preacher nor an aggressive leader." "The Cardinal wants someone pastoral and his own age. I'll give you a couple of days to think about it. You know, you ought to listen to the Holy Father."So Father Olivier asked his confessor. He told him to do what he was asked. Which he did.

Thomas Stearns Eliot wrote a poem called, "Journey of the Magi." Here is some of it:

   A cold coming we had of it,
   Just the worst time of the year
   For a journey, and such a long journey:
   The ways deep and the weather sharp,
   The very dead of winter.

   And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,
   Lying down in the melting snow.
   There were times when we regretted
   The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,
   And the silken girls bringing sherbet.
   Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
   And running away, and wanting their liquor and
        women.
   And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters,
   And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly
   And the villages dirty and charging high prices:

   A hard time we had of it.
   At the end we preferred to travel all night,
   Sleeping in snatches,
   With the voices singing in our ears, saying
   That this was all folly....

So what's the connection, one with the other? Perhaps we could say that they are two of a kind. Both are calls. Both are answered. And the response revealed God. The Epiphany. The Manifestation. Response reveals. It always does. There is vocation, and that is clear enough. We know what that means. One is called to married life, to be a doctor or a lawyer or a farmer, a priest, a monk, a nun.

But God is always calling. Love is a dialog. An interchange. And the exchange is not merely in the major questions of life. The big questions. It goes on all the time, really.

And it is not only saints and the better people who hear this Voice. All do. Because all are loved. Sinners are loved too, and a star rises in their sky too.

As when we reap the fruit of our own foolishness, our stupidity. Dare I say, also, when we eat the bitter sequel to our sins? Yes, He is there then too. Perhaps more than ever. He has a helpless love for sinners and follows them around.

I should know. I work in the retreat house. I meet all kinds of people. Some have been in the worst places, the worst situations. Have eaten the bitter fruit of their wild flings, and followed a star in the dark night and found the Light.

God does not give up on anyone. He made the human heart good and He has a mind to heal the hurt heart, the bruised one, the cold, the hostile and evil one. It is why He came.

The star still shines. And when it is responded to, God stands revealed. And revelation is what Epiphany means. And of course there are Herods to deny it and would put it to death.

When out of the blue God called Father Olivier, he could not believe it. "My troubles have reached your ear. You have the wrong name. You have the wrong man. I am too old. I am not competent."

So what else is new?

If I were you, be you the saddest of sinners or the wannabee saint, that you keep an eye on the dark sky is my suggestion. In the deepest night. In the saddest hour. In the bleakest time. Your marriage collapses, your son is dead, your house is gone up in smoke, flood and wind and disease have come your way, your life is on a reef. You can be sure He is there. All you need do is to start looking. The looking will reveal Him.

As Bishop Olivier said, "The people have accepted and supported me. I have been here seven years and have been very happy."

As the wise men said in Eliot: "All this was a long time ago, I remember, and I would do it again...This birth was hard and bitter for us, like death, our death.... I should be glad of another death."

So, even when the Light seems to lead to death, it doesn't. It's a birth.  Amen.