Gonzales puts faith on the line, on the road

This week,as part of its continuing focus on various aspects of vocations, Catholic New World staff writer Michael D. Wamble talks with Deacon Jose and Lucila Gonzales.

Faith.

What other word better describes Jose Gonzales’ decision over 20 years ago to enter the permanent diaconate as a married man, while not having yet met his bride?

Talking to the deacon (Class of ’80), and his wife Lucila, it’s clear this couple has found a way to juggle duties at home, at work, and at two parishes on the Northwest Side where the deacon couple ministers.

At his first assignment, St. Peter Canisius, Deacon Gonzales’ openness to the plight of others led to the formation of a ministry to prisoners serving in central Wisconsin.

His desire to reach out to the city’s Hispanic community was the catalyst in the creation of a new ministry to Spanish-speaking parishioners at St. Bartholomew and a Mass in Spanish.
Despite minor bouts of doubt and questions about if he’s making an impact, those he has touched, he said, sometimes make him feel like an MVD: Most Valuable Deacon.

Catholic New World: How did you first learn about the diaconate program?

Deacon Jose Gonzales: Back in 1975, I started going back to church at St. Sylvester. It was in the summer of ‘76 that I was renewed by the Holy Spirit. Before that happened I hardly attended church. At a charismatic retreat I met the Lord in a very special way and I just decided to come back to the [Catholic] Church and serve at St. Peter Canisius.

I was so filled with the Spirit. The fire was there. I wanted to learn the Bible. I had thought about attending Moody Bible Institute to learn the Scriptures. That’s when a friend said, “Instead of going there, why don’t you go into the diaconate?”

I talked to friends of mine who were deacons like Jose Uroza (Class of ‘77) and they helped guide me through the process. The whole time I felt like this was what God wanted me to do.

CNW: Were you married at the time you decided to become a deacon?

DJG: No. At the time that I was interviewed [by late Father Larry Gorman to enter the diaconate program] I didn’t know my wife. They asked me, “Would you like to bring a girlfriend to the classes?” And I said, “When I meet her, I’ll bring her.” I knew I wasn’t going to enter the diaconate as a single.

CNW: How did you two meet?

Lucila Gonzales: When I came to Chicago, I lived with my aunt and her husband who were involved in the parish and knew Jose. I participated in a Cursillo there. On the last night, they held a clasura (closing). Since Jose knew my family he came to clasura and saw me there. I didn’t notice him at the time.

DJG: (Laughs.) But I noticed her.

LG: That night, the participants formed a receiving line. That’s when Jose said he saw me.

DJG: Before that night, I had been praying every day and night to God telling him, “You know I can’t be single.” I told him, “if that’s what you want me to do you’d better grant me the gift of celibacy.” And I prayed and asked him to “show me the girl.” I wasn’t getting any younger and I figured it wouldn’t be easy.

The only reason I was there was because a friend invited me. There were 100 ladies in the receiving line. When I walked up to Lucy, I saw her smile. She smiled at me and all of a sudden I knew she was the one.

Now, I’m arguing with God—in my mind—telling him, “This can’t be.” Then my friend, who turned out to be her uncle, invited me back to a party in his niece’s honor. When I got there, I knew it was God at work.

Her [late] grandmother was also “at work.”

LG: Yeah. My grandmother had this way of reading people. She’d always tell me, since most of my family is back in Puerto Rico, that “I don’t want to die without knowing you’re in good hands.” That’s grandmas for you.
So six months before he was ordained we became Mr. and Mrs.

CNW: Have your ministries been primarily in parish life?

DJG: They’ve been mainly in the parish. I’ve also had a vision to work in prison ministry. Father Gorman told me the program needed a Hispanic deacon to visit the MCI (Metropolitan Correctional Institution) in Chicago.

Although I had a year to go in my formation, I began to volunteer there. It inspired me to begin work in prison ministry in 1987.

A St. Peter Canisius parishioner’s relative was going through the trial process. I knew the family. The young man was sentenced to serve time at Oxford penitentiary in [central] Wisconsin. Knowing me, he asked the chaplain if we could visit him. Another prisoner wrote our pastor requesting a Hispanic minister to visit the prison. We started going two to three times a month. The group at St. Peter’s goes about once a month. We leave out at 4 a.m., arrive at 8 a.m. and spend the day there. Both ministries are still going strong.