They say that you don’t fully appreciate something until it’s gone. Perhaps, you’ve experienced this before when you’ve run out of gas in your car, or money in your bank account, or crabs at a crabfeast, or maybe there was someone important in your life who isn’t present anymore. This lack or absence leaves a hole within you. There was something there that isn’t any longer. But it should be.
Some absences are more substantial than others. Perhaps the largest absence in most people’s lives today is fatherhood. Numerous people have grown up without a loving father who cares for their best interest and protects and provides for them. This is increasingly true among young people, including (even) seminarians.
As I see this “father wound” growing amongst my peers, I’ve become more and more aware and grateful that, fortunately, this is not the case for me. God has blessed me with a loving father who has played an active part in my entire life. From taking our family to church and engaging in service projects to watching sporting events to doing math homework to camping, he’s been there. However, there was one time where he wasn’t there and it made a big difference.
A few years ago, my dad and I were participating in a 12-day hiking trip out West. We went along with some teenage boys as well as some adults. I was tasked with leading the crew which meant everything from not getting us lost and organizing logistics to reconciling relationships as patience naturally waxes and wanes throughout a multi-day journey.
Although my father started the trek with us, after a few days he needed to return to base camp due to difficulties adjusting to the altitude. For a fifteen year old, this was a devastating blow. It felt like the main load-bearing wall was being taken away from me. I relied on my father a great deal for peace that everything was going to work out as well as for prudent advice, especially when making decisions that affected the whole group’s wellbeing. He didn’t always know what to do or how to do it, but his presence, whether he knew it or not, meant everything . Without him at my side over the next few days, I realized that, in a very real way, I was alone.
Certainly, this one particular flashpoint from my life is not intended to make light of anyone who has a real and deep hurt because their father was never present to them. Rather, I bring up this story because, mysteriously, this was the story that my own father highlighted in his letter of recommendation during my application to seminary. From his vantage, this was a watershed moment for me because this experience revealed that the deepest desire of my heart, indeed what I was created for, is to be a father - a father who brings life and love to his children through his presence.
As I progress through seminary formation, I am continually reminded, often at inopportune ministerial moments, that I am not enough. I have certain gifts for sure, but, on my own power, I cannot preach and teach as effectively as I would like and even need to in order to “win” souls for the Kingdom.
However, what I can do, by the grace of God, is show up. It sounds unimpressive, perhaps even self-limiting, but it means everything. I can be a father who is present to his children at whatever stage of life they may be in and in whatever situation they may find themselves. I can be the one to be there in the middle of the night when tragedy strikes, and I can be there to provide a listening ear after Mass or in the confessional. As a priest, there will be long, busy days, but my identity as a father is not merely based on function. Rather, it is primarily based on being. I long to bring God’s presence to the People of God, most especially through the Sacraments of the Most Holy Eucharist and Reconciliation whereby Jesus, who Himself said that “Whoever has seen Me has seen the Father” (cf. Jn. 14:9), will be with us always, “until the end of the age” (cf. Mt. 28:20).
Benjamin Oursler is in Fourth College at Saint John Paul II Seminary in Washington, D.C. His home parish is St. John the Evangelist in Severna Park. Please God, Ben will be ordained to the diaconate in 2026 and to the priesthood in 2027. Please pray for Ben!