Barclay’s words remind me of a woman I knew who, on the occasion of her 95th birthday, declared to me that she had never discovered God’s purpose for her life. I was initially startled by her comment until I realized it had taken me almost four decades to discover my own calling.  

I was baptized into a mainline Protestant denomination, the faith of my parents. My formative years were spent in that denomination and I continue to have a deep and abiding love for those in this denomination who took me by the hand and led to the knowledge of God and his divine Son. 

I grew up in Staten Island, N.Y., surrounded by Catholic friends and neighbors. Our home stood in the shadow of Our Lady of Good Counsel Catholic Church and its parochial school, which stood on the bluff of a nearby hill.  

One winter afternoon when I was eight years old and full of curiosity, I climbed the hill to Our Lady of Good Counsel Church and hesitantly stepped inside.  The interior of the church was dark and the only visible light came from the glow of the lamp suspended above the tabernacle. Since I had never been in a Catholic church, I knew nothing of tabernacles or sanctuary lamps. I was, however, transfixed as I stood quite still and stared at the glow coming from the lamp. Although I was totally unaware of the presence of our eucharistic Lord in the tabernacle, our Lord was there and I remember that was the instant I knew in my heart I wanted to become a Catholic. 

Eleven years later I enlisted in the Air Force and was sent to Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio, Texas, where I arrived on a Saturday afternoon. The next morning I sat on a footlocker and wondered what was in store for me. Suddenly, an officer walked into the barracks and ordered all Catholics to line up on the road outside so they could march to the chapel for Sunday Mass. “What is this? Why does the Air Force make sure all Catholics get to Mass on Sunday?” Sitting there I made a promise that as soon as basic training was over I would seek out a priest and find out about Catholics and what seemed to make them so special.

When I reached my permanent assignment, it didn’t take long to find Father Patrick O. Higgins, a young chaplain with a thick Irish brogue.  

Father Higgins and I spent the next six weeks studying the Catechism and some history of the Catholic Church. One day when Father Higgins was showing me around the chapel, pointing out things of interest, I asked why Catholics genuflected when they entered church. “Well, Henry,” he said, “it’s because our Lord is truly present in the tabernacle.” That’s when it hit me that our Lord had been speaking to my heart that day years earlier when I was transfixed before the tabernacle. Unaware at the time, it had been one of the defining moments in my life.  

In spite of the great confusion and countless myths that circulated between Protestants and Catholics regarding each other’s religions, I never had the slightest doubt that I had finally reached home. 

Soon after completing religious instruction, I was welcomed into full communion in the Roman Catholic Church. I made my first confession and the next day received my first holy Communion. Now I knew what had been missing in my life and what would fill me with God’s grace. As I grew in faith and understanding, the Catholic Church would become my anchor and the most important thing in my life. 

The next defining moment came a quarter of a century later as I sat on the deck of my house and gazed at a glorious Oregon sunset. “I’m 45 years old,” I thought to myself, “and don’t know what to do with the rest of my life.” Musing over this, the thought crept into my head, “Why not become a priest? Isn’t it time to thank God for the grace I’d been given?” 

Over the next few weeks the idea became clear that God might be calling me to priesthood. Although I was frightened by all the hurdles that would be ahead, I decided not to second-guess God. There was so much to do. I had never been to college. I’d have to do that first. When I told my boss I was giving up my position with the company to go to college full-time, he said, “Henry, you’re having a mid-life crisis: ignore it.” 

But I didn’t ignore it. I quit my job and went to college and earned a degree. 

In 1992 I entered Holy Apostles College and Seminary and was almost simultaneously sponsored by the Diocese of Fall River. Four years later, at the age of 55, I was ordained on June 8, 1996 by Bishop Sean O’Malley. Father Higgins, the chaplain who brought me into the Catholic Church 38 years earlier, was present at my ordination and was a concelebrant the following day for my first Mass.

I spent the first four years of my priesthood at Corpus Christi parish in Sandwich. In 2002 Bishop O’Malley named me the pastor of St. Peter the Apostle Parish in Provincetown. 

I have been here at St. Peter’s for more than seven years and am truly blessed to be the parish priest of this wonderful community of faith. The parishioners of this parish, whom I am honored to serve, have not only validated my call to priesthood, but in so doing, have helped me discover why I was born. My head spins as I recall how quickly things moved from the evening I sat on my deck and thought God might be calling me to priesthood. 

Barclay was right when he said, “The two most important days in a person’s life are the day we are born and the day we discover why.” When someone asks why it took me so long to become a priest, I tell them I came as soon as I was called. They really don’t have to know it took 47 years for me to process the call. 

Father Dahl, ordained in 1996, is pastor of St. Peter’s Parish in Provincetown.