But no matter their ages, occupations, or GPS coordinates, all three men told a universal story.

A vocation is a lifelong presence, they each said, and it is known only to God. The mystery is simple: when will the vocation be recognized?

“I believe I realized my vocation in 1974 or 1975 at age nine or 10,” said Father Khiem Van Nguyen. “It was during a Sunday Mass. When I heard my pastor say that our lives must be lived according to God’s will, I began to think I wanted to become a priest.” During a treacherous small boat trip from Vietnam to the United States, Fr. Khiem promised the Blessed Mother that if he survived, he would become a priest. Later, as a young man, he renewed that resolve while spending a month in a hospital recovering from an auto accident.

In 1989, he joined the Congregation of the Mother Co-Redemptrix in Missouri; 22 years after that, just this month, he was ordained to the priesthood for the Diocese of Fort Worth.

“Part of the mystery of life is figuring out what God wants you to do,” said Father Philip Petta, who had carried a reverence for the popes since Pope John XXIII, in the early ‘60s when he was a child. “Everyone figures it out. It takes a lot of prayer, and you have to do your best.”

Fr. Phil was inspired to be a priest in 1998, while he was an Episcopalian. “I knew I was supposed to be a Roman Catholic priest before I was a Catholic!” he said. He was confirmed into the Catholic Church in 2003, called Sister Donna Ferguson, then director of seminarians for the diocese, and said, “I’m ready to go to the seminary.” He was disappointed to learn he had to wait two years after his conversion before being admitted.

Father Richard Kirkham’s childhood neighbor in Oak Cliff was Sr. Donna herself, who was a high school senior when he was born. (“I was the baby of the neighborhood,” he said.) The product of a strong Catholic family in a mostly Catholic community, Fr. Richard was always faithful and active in the church, but continued wondering and searching.

As he approached his 40th birthday, the successful businessman asked himself, “What do I want to be doing when I die?” His answer was that he wanted to be serving God. “I had no more excuses, I began the process of entering the Fort Worth Diocese as a seminarian.”

Fr. Donna was the babysitter for Fr. Richard during his childhood, but would miss the biggest development in his life. He entered the seminary in 2006; she passed away in 2008. Bishop Kevin Vann spoke of his own vocation history in his homily at the June 4 Liturgy of Holy Orders.

“As I was thinking of all of you and your paths to this day,” he said, “I was in my office at the Catholic Center, and I happened to look up on the wall of my office. I saw the one copy that I think was left of my ordination invitation 30 years ago, now in the form of three small pots that hang on the wall in my office.”

His invitation, he told the three then deacons, had a quote from St. Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, chapter 4, verses 1 and 2.

“I liked the quote,” the bishop said, “but I wanted a different translation, so I found a Jerusalem Bible and it went something like this: ‘People must think of us as Christ’s servants, stewards entrusted with the mysteries of God.’”

The bishop also referenced a reflection from Blessed John Paul II, on the same Corinthians quote. The reflection, he said, comes from a work entitled Gift and Mystery. “What does it mean to be a priest?” Bishop Vann read John Paul’s writing. “According to St. Paul it means above all to be a steward of the mysteries of God. This is how one should regard us: as servants of Christ and stewards of the mysteries of God.” The reflection explained that the steward is not the owner but the one to whom the owner entrusts his goods, so that he will manage them justly and responsibly, in exactly the same way the priest receives from Christ the treasures of salvation in order to duly distribute them among the people to whom he is sent.

“The treasures are those of faith,” Bishop Vann recounted. “Thus the priest as a man is a man of the Word of God, a man of the mystery of faith.”

The ordination of a Catholic priest takes place in a solemn liturgy, during a sequence of traditional actions. First is the examination of the candidates, in which the bishop asks the men to proclaim their willingness to commit to the responsibilities of ordination; then the promise of obedience, in which each of the men places his hands within those of the bishop as a sign of obedience and respect.

The invitation to prayer occurs when the men lay prostrate before the altar, as the celebrant and congregation join in praying the Litany of the Saints.

The ancient sign of ordination comes immediately afterward, when the men kneel before the bishop, who lays hands on their heads, and prays in silence for the gifts of the Holy Spirit. Wearing stoles, the symbol of the Order of Presbyter, all priests present do the same, and afterward, the bishop prays the prayer of consecration, that the newly ordained may joyfully accept their role of service as Presbyter.

The priestly ordination of these three men attracted the attention of the diocese and a large attendance of those who had followed the men through their formation. Diocesan seminarians served in different capacities, and, said Fr. Kirkham, the new priests appreciated their participation. “I was with my brothers, and they were there to serve!” “My chalice was a gift from Father David Bristow, who is a mentor to me,” Fr. Phil said. “It belonged to an Episcopalian priest who left it to him. Father received permission from the widow to give it to me. It means a lot to me.

“At the ordination I saw so many friends who had tracked me through the whole process. They were all from St. Mary, and have been supportive.

“At St. Mary I am at home,” Fr. Phil said. “I don’t care if I get sent to Vladivostok of Russia, St. Mary will always be home. It is the most special place in Fort Worth for me, and I was extremely honored, pleased and thrilled to have my first Mass there.” “The day of my ordination, I felt really happy because the love of God and of the people of the Church have been bestowed on me,” Fr. Khiem said. “Standing beside the altar and looking down at the people, at that time, I just thought how wonderful it is when different races of people come together in one house of the Lord.

“I did pray that God and our Blessed Mary, our Heavenly Mother, bless and pray for everyone in the Church, especially those who have been helping me successfully come to the day of ordination.”

“My chalice is special,” Fr. Richard said. “It is from 1957, and was given to a parish in New York by a family whose son had died. My godmother — my childhood next-door neighbor — purchased it for me. I never knew the priest, but his name is on the chalice, and I feel blessed to have it.

“At the ordination, I was not overwhelmed with anxiety, I wanted to enjoy every moment. A stand-out experience for me was when the bishop had anointed my hands with oil, he wrapped them with a cloth, then looked at me and said, ‘I’m proud of you.’”

“When I went in the back to remove the cloth,” Fr. Richard finished, “my brother seminarians were waiting there to help me. This meant the most to me — they are the men I joined with, and these are the men who were first to call me ‘Father.’”