Newest priests share their vocation journeys

When Bishop Howard J. Hubbard ordained three men to the priesthood for the Albany Diocese on July 3, the trio had a rare distinction: In a priesthood that, of late, has drawn more and more members from the ranks of "second-career" seminarians, all three are members of "Generation X."

Just before their ordinations, The Evangelist spoke with the three new priests on their journeys of faith.

REV. MICHAEL COURNOYER
A month before his 28th birthday, Rev. Michael Cournoyer holds the honor of being the youngest priest of the Albany Diocese. But for a while, the new priest thought he'd be crunching numbers instead of christening children.

Growing up in Watervliet, Father Cournoyer joked that "I always had my hands in Church." A parishioner of Our Lady of Mount Carmel Church along with his parents and younger brother, he tried nearly every ministry the parish had to offer.

"I had thoughts of the priesthood when I was younger," he recalled. However, when a teacher at Maplewood Elementary School asked his class to describe their future careers, he balked at talking about his vocation.

"I want to be a state worker," he informed his class before changing his answer to "priest."

Discerning his role

Putting the urge toward the priesthood "on the back burner," Father Cournoyer graduated from Watervliet High School and went on to Siena College, where he majored in accounting. But when the opportunity to participate in Siena's discernment program for Franciscan vocations came up, he took it.

Eventually, the future priest found himself working as Bishop Hubbard's "master of ceremonies," traveling around the Diocese to help plan Confirmation ceremonies and, in the process, meeting many priests who guided and inspired him. After college, he decided to forgo accounting and enter the diocesan priesthood.

The announcement "did not come as a surprise" to family and friends, he told The Evangelist; in fact, his family encouraged him on his journey with the affirmation that "whatever you want to do with your life is great with us."

God of surprises

Father Cournoyer entered St. Mary's Seminary in Baltimore in 1992, attending for two years before taking a year's leave of absence, then returning to finish his degree.

His education, he said, sparked "a growing love for God and God's people. When I think of vocation, I think, `How am I best called to love?' That's what ministry's all about."

Smiling, the priest said he also discovered that "God is the God of surprises -- and God writes straight with crooked lines. I think, `It's got to be my way, my time,' but God doesn't work that way."

Asset in youth

During his time in the seminary, Father Cournoyer served at Our Lady of Grace parish in Ballston Lake, St. Jude's in Wynantskill and Annunciation in Ilion, as well as at Berkshire Medical Center in Pittsfield. The latter position -- that of chaplain's assistant in the emergency room -- caused him to struggle with his young age.

"People would say, `What can you do for me? You could be my son. You could be my grandson,'" he remembered.

But as he persevered, the priest realized that his youth "is a blessing. It's inspiring for other young people like myself that someone is willing to make a lifetime commitment to the priesthood. For older people, there's a sense of hope."

Today, Father Cournoyer even calls it his "personal project" to inspire as many young men as possible to enter the priesthood.

Cowed by assignment

As his ordination neared, the priest was finishing his pastoral year of service at Annunciation parish in Ilion, which he completed after the seminary. He spoke with joy of baptizing children after he became a deacon, and of his time on the western edge of the Diocese.

Having worried when first assigned to the rural parish that "I'll be ministering to cows out there," Father Cournoyer has had cause to rue his words. His bookshelves now hold countless cow knickknacks, gifts from teasing friends.

He is quick to speak of his admiration for the Mohawk Valley. "I've really enjoyed it out there," he noted.

Sees hope ahead

Some concerns still affect the new priest, such as the growing shortage of his peers. "Without priests, there's no Eucharist. That's the bottom line," he told The Evangelist. "Are priests going to be the Lone Rangers? Is it going to be a new hobby of mine to collect parishes?"

However, he added, "The positive side is the tremendous growth of lay ministry. It's a sign of people living up to their baptismal call. [And] there are vocations out there; we just have to shake a few more trees."

Father Cournoyer was eager to hear of his first parish assignment, saying that "I'm willing to try anything" in terms of ministry.

"I'd like to say `thank you' to so many people -- family, priests who have been a guiding influence in my life," he added. "Continue to pray for me -- as I will you."

***

REV. DAVID LEFORT
A shortcut through a parking lot ended up being a shortcut to the priesthood for Rev. David LeFort.

One of three children and a native of Ballston Lake, Father LeFort attended St. Joseph's School in Scotia and Burnt Hills-Ballston Lake Senior High School, and earned an associate's degree in criminal law from the University at Albany and a bachelor's in philosophy from Nazareth College in Rochester.

During his younger days, the 30-year-old priest recalled several women religious commenting, "You should be a priest."

"But I didn't want somebody telling me what to do," he explained, "and I also wanted to be married, have a family."

Path to vocation

Instead of the priesthood, he aimed for another "helping profession": the police force. But since Father LeFort is legally blind, he soon found that he didn't qualify. Instead, he became an operations coordinator for Eastman Kodak, where he worked for three years.

"At that point, I wasn't really going to church," he admitted.

But proving the theory that God works in mysterious ways, the future priest drove past a church on his way to work each day whose parking lot was a convenient shortcut. When parish officials discovered cars crossing through their lot, they blocked the entrance. Father LeFort decided that if he went inside to say a quick prayer, it would be all right to cut through the lot.

Daily prayer soon turned into weekly Mass, and he finally called the Albany diocesan vocations director, Rev. John Molyn, seeking acceptance into the priesthood.

In plain sight

Making a pun on his disability, Father LeFort said, "My eyesight wasn't clear [before entering the seminary]. In a sense, it's a vocation that's been there all along -- I just didn't recognize it."

However, his family and friends certainly did: "I'd say, `I'm leaving Kodak to go back to school,' and they'd say, `What are you going to do -- become a priest?'"

Father LeFort attended seminary at the Pontifical North American College in Rome, Italy, where he learned to teach religious education to 12- and 13-year-olds in Italian. "I should say they taught me," he said wryly. "It was humbling."

Other Albanians

One opportunity in the seminary "changed my whole appreciation of the gift of faith," he remembered: a mission in Albania with the Missionaries of Charity in 1994.

"They had just renewed the freedom of religion two years before I went," the priest said. "I saw the real joy they had. All of this faith was denied them for 25 years. We benefitted a lot more than they did; they taught us what it means to have faith."

Back home, Father LeFort served at Christ the King parish in Guilderland, St. Francis de Sales in Loudonville, St. Marie's in Cohoes and Blessed Sacrament in Albany. In Italy, he also served at a naval base in Gaeta, which he refers to as "a little taste of an American parish."

Global experience

Helping out at Italian parishes proved an interesting experience. While he described women shuffling in holding rosaries, men smoking outside the door before Mass and children going to Reconciliation during the homily, his biggest insight was that "the Church is an awful lot alike throughout the world. Equality doesn't have to mean sameness."

Having prayed with Muslims and Orthodox during his time in the seminary, the priest found confirmation "that we do believe in one God." He also learned that "people show the Creed in their actions."

BY far, his greatest blessings, he said, are the people he has met. "I didn't know how powerful a support the people would be for me," he explained. "Growing up, people didn't tell me, `Oh, it would be great to be a priest.' But now, they're very supportive, very encouraging. Coupled with God's grace, we've got a lot of work going in our favor."

Concern and optimism

There are also many challenges. Father LeFort expressed concern about the media "advertising difficulties and problems within the Church, but not as often do we find that we get built up." As such, one of his priorities will be to maintain friendships with fellow priests.

The new priest finds hope in the fact that despite the Church's struggles, "people continue to offer lives that are faith-filled and committed -- proof that they see something greater than ourselves in their lives."

His prayer is to become the kind of priest "who does not forget I'm dealing with real people, who will be there for them to remind them of God's presence in their lives. They don't always want answers."

Back to Rome

Unlike his classmates, Father LeFort has another year of schooling in Rome to earn the degree he is aiming for. He hopes to serve parishes there as he awaits his return to the Albany Diocese.

Compassion, a listening ear and a talent for working with different age groups are among the talents the new priest said that he will bring to his first parish assignment.

However, he noted that his sense of humor is what helps him most: "I don't mind making fun of myself or being made fun of. Humor is a good way to get into someone's heart."

***

REV. ROBERT LONGOBUCCO
Rev. Robert Longobucco says he's a little gregarious.

"Okay, I'm a lot gregarious," he conceded with a laugh. "I bring a lot of enthusiasm [to the priesthood], because I was blessed to end up in the right job!"

Becoming one of a trio of new priests for the Albany Diocese wasn't the job he planned. Born and raised in Bayville, Long Island, he attended St. Gertrude's parish with his parents and brother, but joked that he only had "a little period of playing priest after playing imaginary baseball when I was seven."

Back of his mind

He did know that the priesthood "was something I'd have to think about. I knew how much I enjoyed sharing my faith."

Attending the University at Albany proved a positive introduction to the Church in the Albany Diocese, and the future priest became involved in the campus ministry program -- as well as falling in love with the Capital District.

"I have an irrational love for Albany," he told The Evangelist. "If you asked me where I'd like to be any day of the year, outside of Shea Stadium when the Mets are playing, I'd say, `Albany.'"

Prayers for peace

It wasn't until the Persian Gulf War began that Father Longobucco took the idea of a vocation seriously.

"During the war, I was praying fervently for peace," he explained. "I realized how deep my prayer life could be, and I started seriously discerning. The one thought that gave me the greatest peace was the priesthood."

Still, he spent his first year after college in the Jesuit Volunteer Corps, then worked at LaSalle School in Albany before spending three years as a speechwriter for Assemblyman Joseph Lentol (D-Brooklyn).

The latter position stirred up his vocation again. "The things that mattered most to me about the job were helping poor people and working for justice," he said. "Preaching the Gospel was more naturally me than politics."

Learning experience

That discovery led to Father Longobucco's entry into the seminary at the Theological College of the Catholic University of America.

"Going in, I thought I knew what it was to be a priest," he remembered. "I found out I didn't know anything!"

One of his fondest memories was that of working in an African-American parish in Washington, D.C. He spoke of his "real love for the inner city," saying that the poor "teach me so much."

However, he also enjoyed other assignments closer to home: Our Lady of Grace parish in Ballston Lake and St. Gabriel's in Rotterdam. He also served as a lobbyist for the State Catholic Conference, the public policy arm of the state's bishops.

"I really have loved every place I've gone," he declared. "The most important thing is being a place where the parish can love each other as a family."

Ideas of priesthood

Theology courses in the seminary and people he met confirmed Father Longobucco's belief that "the Gospel is the only way to love, the only way to make peace, the only way to treat each other. That's now my greatest conviction."

He realized that the priesthood is not without its challenges. "Vocations are going to be a problem, because even as we're planning [the future of] the Diocese, I know right now that the Church I'm being ordained in will look significantly different 10, 20 years into my priesthood," he stated.

Ultimately, though, the priest believes those questions are best left to the Holy Spirit to answer. His hope for the future, he said, lies in the Spirit and the people he meets: "I see people in sickness, in grieving, in joy -- then you realize that it's their faith that rebounds to me."

Starting fresh

The approach of his ordination held no fear for Father Longobucco.

"I'm naive, which is a great thing to be!" he joked. "It's like the beginning of seminary again. Who's to say I really know what it's like in the confessional, what it's like when you're at a parish for three or four years?"

Since he has yet to try a ministry he doesn't like, the priest was unconcerned about his first parish assignment, as well. "I'd like to continue with the `Journey' high-school retreat program," he remarked. "Someday, I'd like to be in an inner city. But I have no doubt that if I never did, I'd still have a wonderful priesthood."

Another of Father Longobucco's favorite ministries is the Catholic Worker movement. He said that he draws much of what he preaches from the ideals of the Catholic Worker and called Emmaus House, Albany's Catholic Worker house, "a gift to the Diocese."

The former speechwriter said he was most looking forward to being "a person who preaches peace -- not just worldwide peace, but peace within the community, within families."

He noted: "I get credit for my speeches now!"

(07-16-98) [[In-content Ad]]