(The following article appeared in the Assumptionist magazine, L’Assomption et ses oeuvres, April/May/June 2013 issue.)

I was born on a Saturday, December 15, 1984, in Adjudeni, a village located in northeast Romania, in the section of the country known as Moldavia. I was told that it was a bitter cold day, with heavy snow, typical of that time of year.  Although Romania is basically a Christian Orthodox country, I grew up in a Catholic village, where the church, with its characteristic bell towers, symbolized by itself alone the pride of these peoples who were to maintain their Catholic faith in spite of fierce persecutions that lasted almost half a century. I was fortunate to be one of the first generations of “free” children, that is, those who grew up after the fall of Communism in 1989. My family never longed to return to those days even if the transition was painful.

Faith always played a·central role in my family. ·We went to Mass every Sunday, and since the Children’s Mass was at 8 AM, we had to get up pretty early in order to arrive on time and find a seat. The year of my First Communion was the occasion for huge celebrations, for my eldest brother was married that year as well. It was that year, right as I was receiving my First Communion actually, that I first began to think about the priesthood. But a week later I was already thinking of other things! I would have to wait till my high school years for the question to arise again·in a must more pressing fashion.

Given the fact that one of my elder brothers had joined the Franciscans already, I naturally headed in the same direction. The seminary wasn’t far from my house, only 10 kilometers away, in the village of Roman. However, the discipline there was much too rigid and the huge dormitories and long, cold corridors turned me off. Still, I stayed for four years, telling myself that following Jesus meant sacrifice and renunciation.

The Assumptionists

After receiving my high school degree, I left the seminary with the hope that I might find another congregation more suited to what I was looking for.  It was then that I discovered the Assumptionists, seduced first of all by their charism and then by their style of community life, which I really liked. It was during my first years as a candidate that I was able to read the Confessions of St. Augustine for the first time. Since then, there has always been a copy of the Confessions on my bookshelf, probably because anyone can recognize part of himself in the tortuous ways that Augustine experienced. The years I spent at Margineni (discernment house of the Assumptionists in Romania) gave me an opportunity as well to have a fresh look at Orthodox Christians and to set foot for the first time in one of their churches!

All in the same boat

In 2005 I was sent to Italy to complete the final months of my postulancy. Above and beyond the country’s heat, I really liked the warmth of the Italian people who welcome you with a perfectly natural charm.  I barely had time to unpack than I had to leave for France to begin my novitiate. But before doing so, I would be remiss if I did not say a word about my experience at World Youth Day in Cologne with the newly elected pope. I was truly happy to be part of this Church which had come from the four quarters of the world to celebrate its faith. Besides, it’s always amazing to see to what point the faith can overcome our differences. Are we not all part of the same draught of fish taken in? Are we not all in the same boat? For my part, it seems that I was drawn into the Lord’s net rather early on and that my place is in his barque. By the time the novitiate ended, I had become the youngest Assumptionist in the congregation. A distinction, by the way, to my great relief, I didn’t hold for long.

“Here I am”

Once I had taken my first vows, I was assigned to the community of the Orangerie in Strasbourg. There I completed my five years of philosophy and theology at the Catholic Faculty of the University of Strasbourg. The commute between our house and school gave me plenty of time to reflect on what our professors were teaching us and to personalize it in my own life.  I had some remarkable intellectual experiences. All of these experiences would have been incomplete without the different pastoral opportunities I had, whether at the parish or in the prison.

It was in the year of the bicentennial of Fr. d’Alzon’s birth, 2010, that I made my final vows. That day I did publicly and solemnly, i.e. say “Here I am, Lord,” what had already taken place in the depths of my heart a long time before. These words, if I might say it like this, have become like the words of the rosary for me.

A new beginning

Today I find myself in Montpellier (France). It’s like a new beginning. First, because I am living in a community fully involved in pastoral work; but also because these realities constitute the challenges of the Church to come. It is in this Church which the Lord has entrusted to our care that we are called to open new doors. The keys that he places in our hands must not keep us enclosed and self-centered; rather, we are called to go into the highways and byways to invite all to the table of the Savior.

Last November 11, under bright blue skies, I was ordained a deacon in view of the priesthood. Following Church tradition, the dalmatic I wore that day symbolized joy. From the start it was meant to signify what the role of the deacon should be: a servant of joy that brings one to deeper faith. It is captured in the beautiful phrase in St. Paul’s Letter to Philippians, “Rejoice in the Lord always; I shall say it again: rejoice” (Phil 4:4).