April 6, 2018 at 1:53 p.m.
VOCATIONS
RELATIVELY SPEAKING: Families discuss loved ones in religious life
Katie Parisi was just 13 when her 18-year-old sister, Laurie, was discerning religious life - and still in high school when Laurie chopped off her long hair and took the plunge in 1998, becoming Sister Laurie Marie Parisi, CR.
"It was just so awesome," Katie Parisi gushed. "You don't see those things anymore. You don't hear about young people deciding to devote their lives to God."
At the time, "it just felt normal" for her sister to enter religious life, as the family was active at St. Paul the Apostle parish in Schenectady. Sister Laurie Marie loved church and reading about religion and saints.
"It wasn't anything I was shocked about or weirded out about," Ms. Parisi said. "[But] I wasn't expecting it. I think my mom always knew."
Today, "I still think it's pretty cool that she's a nun," Ms. Parisi said. "I think it's neat because she's stuck with something all these years. She's very happy and she loves what she's doing, and it's very courageous of her to continue to live her life for God."
Still, when Ms. Parisi tells people about her sister, most say, "Nobody's a nun anymore! People still do that?"
Sister Laurie Marie is finishing a master's degree and teaching in Yonkers. She visits her family every chance she gets and enjoys movies and restaurants, swimming and the family's dogs. She and Ms. Parisi chat every few weeks.
"There's nothing I keep from her," Ms. Parisi said. "She knows about every aspect of my life. We're each other's best friend.
"I try really hard to remember" to call her "Sister" in public, she continued with a laugh. "But to me, she'll always be Laurie. She is like everybody else."
She understands Sister Laurie Marie's relationship with her fellow women religious: "I know her sisters are her family - just like if you got married and had a husband and children," Ms. Parisi said. "They all love each other and care for each other."
Her advice to laypeople whose loved ones are discerning a vocation: "It's nothing to be scared about. You're not losing your family member. You're giving your family member to God. You're going to see them being happy and being fulfilled and following what God has called them to do."
FATHER'S BROTHER
Colleen Keegan was a little surprised when her brother, Rev. Patrick Butler, began discerning a call to the priesthood after college. She had imagined him being a father some day.
As it turns out, he is: "Pat has a family," Mrs. Keegan said. "He is a father, as they say, to all. I think that this extended family has helped him grow and has helped us grow as a family."
More than 30 years into her brother's service as a priest of the Albany Diocese, she has forged friendships at nearly every parish he's overseen.
"Every place he goes, he seems to create such a beautiful community," she said. "I believe he lives the word of God every day, and he just seems to speak to the minds and hearts of everyone in the pews. He does possess a rare gift. He's continually teaching, even at our table."
Father Butler gets together with his three siblings and their families about once a month. Mrs. Keegan sometimes worries about her brother burning out, but knows he's following in their parents' footsteps by putting the needs of others first.
"We're very, very proud of him," she said. "He has brought an immeasurable amount of love to the lives of so many people."
Instead of questions upon learning Mrs. Keegan's relationship to Father Butler, parishioners "tell me how lucky we are to have Patrick as our brother because of what he means to them," she said.
DEACON'S WIFE
Sally Beckman's first reaction to her husband Marty's desire to become a deacon was, "The timing [is] wrong.
"I just didn't think I could handle his involvement," she explained.
But, as their six children got older and the couple got more involved in marriage preparation and other ministries in the cities they inhabited, Deacon Beckman's call grew stronger.
"I felt like I really needed to pay attention to it," Mrs. Beckman said. "I was encouraging it outwardly, but I had reservations, because I was concerned about the time commitment."
Deacon Beckman ended up combining diaconal preparation with a degree in social work and his job in highway construction. Four years later, Mrs. Beckman was asked to give consent in front of the Bishop for her husband to begin ministry.
"I felt like I did it through clenched teeth," she admitted. "I feel like, when I said yes, much like when I said yes to marriage, I didn't know what I was getting into."
Three decades later, "I can look back and see what a blessing this has been in our life. It has deepened our faith in each other, in God's Church. Through the deepening of all of his gifts, I benefit.
"Today, I would say yes unreservedly," she continued. "It has been a real gift."
Deacon Beckman, 77, currently serves as a part-time chaplain at St. Peter's Hospital in Albany and preaches once a month at St. Vincent de Paul parish in Albany. He and Mrs. Beckman led Scripture classes and did marriage preparation at the parishes where they've served and were involved in senior housing ministry for 10 years together.
Parishioners sometimes act uncomfortable around the couple: "Sometimes, it's hard to just be yourself because they think you're some kind of a saint, and we're not," Mrs. Beckman said. "[Marty is] not only normal, but he's also very honest and easy. There's a lot of laughter in our home - and music and normalcy."
Mrs. Beckman attends a deacon support group with her husband and other support groups for herself. She advised wives of men considering the diaconate to talk it out ahead of time, be honest and rely on God's grace: "It will be there when you need it, even though it will be very difficult sometimes."[[In-content Ad]]
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