The Catholic Sun Magazine

Father Eusebio Kino had a vocation that has impacted generations. As a Jesuit priest, he founded 20 missions in Southern Arizona and Northern Mexico in the late 1600s, riding on horseback while spreading God’s love.  The Kino Catechetical Institute in the Diocese of Phoenix, named after this horse-riding priest, helps students experience a deeper sense of their vocation. Founded in 1972 by Father Ernest Larkin, the Kino Institute offers faith formation programs for Catholic school teachers, aspiring deacons, parish catechists and any Catholic adult seeking to deepen their faith. 

When I was a kid, Easter mornings were always exciting. The night before, all of us Dolan kids would line up our Easter egg baskets in front of the fireplace. When it was morning, we would race out to see what goodies filled them. But we didn’t simply receive whatever was given to us — we spent the morning counting. Every single one of us looked in our own baskets, and each other's, to make sure we all had the exact same number of Easter eggs and jellybeans. Looking back, I can’t help but laugh. We just wanted an equal share in the excitement of the morning, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But we also needed to do some growing; we eventually would need to get out of our own selfish way to start considering those around us. I think the same can be said of the spiritual life, especially during the Easter season. 

The surge in the number of those seeking to become Catholic is catching the attention of parish staffs across the Diocese of Phoenix. Whether it’s disappointment with the empty promises of secularism, a deep hunger for something authentic, the election of the first U.S.-born pontiff or a combination thereof, parishes have seen a strong uptick in inquiries. Not everyone fits in the standard model for the Order of Christian Initiation of Adults (OCIA), the process by which men and women become Catholic. From nurses and police officers who work nights to truck drivers and those in hospice care, a welcoming, flexible approach is helping hundreds become Catholic. We checked in with parishes in four corners of the Diocese of Phoenix to see how creative OCIA leaders are adapting in order to welcome more people into the Catholic Church. 

Although Deacon Simon Ortiz’s summer assignment ended at St. Mary’s Parish in Chandler, Ariz., parishioners are still requesting him to baptize their children. Ramona Murga, office supervisor of St. Mary’s, has to politely respond that he is now back in seminary, preparing for his priestly ordination.  The culturally diverse community hosts a yearly fundraiser for the seminarians and partakes in adopt-a-seminarian. So when Deacon Ortiz arrived at the start of the summer, they welcomed him with open arms.  Deacon Ortiz went right to work, thankful he was able to practice his Spanish, a real blessing to the roughly 40-percent of the parish community who are Spanish speakers. His ability to connect with any parishioner who walked through the doors made him well-loved among the people. 

The longer I live my faith, the more I am struck by the beauty and power of baptism as a lifelong mission that calls us into who we are. Baptism is more than an entry point into the Church. It is our awakening to a sacred mission that reveals a world far greater than any one person. Yet, in that vastness, God loves each of us uniquely and fully, without exception. This is true for every person, and baptism is our recognition of and commitment to live out this truth! 

When Omar Gómez thinks about what it was that drew him to becoming Catholic, he smiles. “I feel like God was using my girlfriend as an instrument so that I would turn to the path toward God.” That was four years ago when life looked different for Gómez. He was born into a nominally Catholic family in California that later relocated to Arizona. “My parents were Catholics, but they didn’t go to church,” Gómez explained. He was never baptized, and the family did not attend Mass. When he was just 16 years old, Gómez’s mother died, leaving him and his seven sisters. His father died a few years later, and just like that, Gómez found himself faced with the heavy responsibilities of family life. 

These are the words God the Father spoke over Jesus during His baptism in the Jordan River. But it isn’t just a nice phrase or a happy sentiment that was shared during a historical event 2,000 years ago. These words hold immense significance in each and every one of our lives, pointing toward our deepest identity as beloved sons and daughters. The Lord loves to reveal Himself and deeper realities through images and stories, and when we take a closer look at the account of Jesus’ baptism in Matthew 3:13-17, there are three wonderful details that help us understand the magnificence of what took place during our own baptism.

Life is often filled with uncertainty, challenges and moments that test our faith. Yet, in the midst of it all, we hold to the promise of our Catholic faith: Jesus is the Way. He is the One Who walks with us in every season — whether joyful or difficult — reminding us that we are never alone. I experienced this truth profoundly in 2001, when I traveled to Peru. At the time, I was still carrying the weight of my own son’s life-threatening health scare. The fear, the sleepless nights and the prayers for his healing had left a lasting imprint on my heart. And then, in Peru, I encountered families who walked for days — sometimes hundreds of miles — just to receive basic medical care for their children. 

Bishop John Dolan sat down with Fr. John Muir, vicar general and vice-moderator of the Curia, to share his heart on year two of TILMA, the bishop’s seven-year pastoral plan on evangelization. Below are some highlights from the interview, edited for length and clarity.

Just a few blocks from St. Agnes Catholic Church and School in Phoenix, there’s a small building others may not even know exists. For those inside, it’s sweet relief from the heat and misery they’ve left behind.  Desert Terrace Healthcare houses and cares for mostly elderly patients in poor health who come from difficult circumstances. Traffic whizzes down the busy street in front of the facility as men and women experiencing homelessness push battered grocery carts and beg for money under the shade of a nearby freeway overpass.