When God Takes You in His Arms – or Serious
“You can do that when…”
It was a glorious spring day in 2005: the sun was shining, it had already become quite warm, and a fresh breeze was blowing. Just as one could wish for the start of spring. We were on a pilgrimage with a youth group, and the Holy Mass was already nearing its end. It had been a beautiful Mass that deeply shocked me, only a little chaotic. Because the large group of altar servers had been assembled spontaneously, anyone who wanted could serve. So, surely about 20 children and teenagers had gathered, but I didn’t have time to instruct them before the Mass. To contain the chaos at the end of the service, I briefly announced the procession: We will exit through the main aisle of the church. This always works and makes the conclusion a bit more festive. Only: the main celebrant had explicitly forbidden me to do so earlier in the sacristy. But I didn’t think much of it and simply disregarded it. The altar servers also did well; the procession went very orderly and not chaotically. However, I noticed in front of the church that the main celebrant had not come along. When we then arrived at the sacristy to change, he awaited us, the altar servers, and me with a thunderstorm. I have now probably suppressed the details; I only remember the end of his tirade. Before storming off, he shouted to me: “…you can do that when you are ordained”. The good mood was gone for me; even after sunshine, I no longer felt like it. What shocked me so deeply was not the fact that I had earned a reprimand—I was fully aware of my guilt. What disturbed me profoundly were his last words: “when you are ordained”. I had never spoken with him about my inner struggle with a vocation. Not even my parents and siblings were in the know. It was a very personal problem I had with God. How on earth did this priest come up with the idea of incorporating this struggle into his reprimand—and in front of a whole crowd of teenagers? I was devastated and needed all my strength just to keep up the facade outwardly. It then took some time before I realized I had committed another “mistake”: In my struggle with God, I had asked Him to speak to me very loudly and clearly if He truly wanted me to be His priest. Because, honestly, I wanted to do something entirely different with my life. But I did not expect God to take my request so seriously… But let’s go in order:
Childhood in Paradise
As the third of four children, I was born in 1986 in Bonn. The family lived in the countryside in a small village. Between hills and fields, there were plenty of opportunities to explore the world. Also, there were many teenagers our age, so we could meet every afternoon. Adventures awaited us! There was no weather bad enough to keep us indoors. I was actually out every afternoon and returned home exhausted but happy for dinner. I always brought clay from the field to my mother. Often, I imagined we needed to help a farmer. Today, I wonder whether riding along on the tractor was in any way helpful or rather annoying for him. But from an early age, I tried to learn a lot. About how to herd cattle—and how not to. How to drive a tractor—and how not to. How to handle heavy tools—and how not to. Collateral damage was tolerated, and at least a bloody knee in summer was simply part of it. Over the years, the focus of our leisure activities naturally shifted: from building treehouses to harvesting asparagus. Slowly, our presence became more useful, and when I received our “wages” at the end of the season (pocket money and a book), I was proud as a peacock!
Of course, this life also included parish life. Each season had its important festivals, and so the Three Kings, Holy Week and Easter, Pentecost, Corpus Christi, St. Martin, and the Advent and Christmas seasons marked our calendar. I looked forward to my First Holy Communion from an early age. Eventually, I was allowed to become an altar server and to belong to the group of the older ones. With all these experiences, I never questioned whether I believed in God. He was simply a natural part of my life.
Boundaries to Overcome
Sometime during my youth, my older siblings received invitations to summer camps from Regnum Christi. At first, I was not very interested, but soon I also reached the age to receive such invitations, and eventually, I set out on the journey myself. They usually lasted a week and quickly became the highlight of each summer holiday. On the one hand, because they opened up a new world for me. Out of the Rhineland, mostly into the Alps, with activities like white-water rafting, etc., really getting into the action. Friendships quickly formed that would accompany me for a long time. On the other hand, faith also played a big role here. Prayer times, daily Mass, and the sacraments were naturally part of it. So I found again the aspects I had already come to love in our village. Adventure, friendships, God. All of it belonged. But in every area, I could also grow beyond myself. With adventure, it meant overcoming personal limits: especially when I no longer wanted to continue physically, there was always a summit to climb. Friendships became more international: I came into contact with teenagers from other countries, yes, from other continents. They usually brought different mentalities (and of course different languages), and I learned that neither one nor the other had to be an obstacle to friendship. And God? Slowly, I got to know Him more personally: that He is not only my Creator and Redeemer but also wants to be my Friend. Someone who has prepared a special plan for me and invites me to walk with Him. I returned from each event somewhat bigger—not necessarily physically, but inwardly: These were moments of inner growth, which I often only recognized as such after some time. But over time, one thing became clear to me:
No matter what I would do in my life someday, no matter which path I would take: Faith and especially my friendship with God would play a role. With this conviction, I then also joined Regnum Christi as a young person.
A Decision for My Life
And once this principle was clear, I felt very free inside and set out to conquer the world. Two experiences from my youth remain especially memorable:
Once, I had the opportunity to travel for a few days to Brussels to the European Parliament to participate in a youth meeting at the Convention on the Constitution. The idea was top-notch lobbying: making contacts and promoting Christian values through the famous Vitamin B (i.e., relationships), and defending them if necessary. I enjoyed this very much and it brought me great joy. At the same time, I also saw how tough the political battles could be. When I set out on the journey home, I was both disillusioned about how politics works and also gained my first experiences of how to bring my faith into society. Both were important for my future path: on the one hand, my enthusiasm for political activity diminished, but on the other hand, my conviction grew that I wanted to actively live my faith and do something for God.
A few years later, I had the chance to spend a summer in North America: first some time in the wilderness of Alaska, and later on a farm in Canada. The basic idea was of course to learn English. But for me, it was much more: I left my securities behind and plunged into a completely unfamiliar world. I spent the entire time with a Canadian farmer, a member of Regnum Christi, who was shrewd and experienced. He had been a police officer before taking over a large farm with his brother. Now, he sacrificed his few vacations to organize trips into the Alaskan wilderness and run a summer camp for youth there. During the summer, I got to know him and his wisdom. A moment that remains deeply imprinted in my memory is when some machine on the farm just broke down in the middle of harvest. And how he then crawled out from underneath, covered in oil, assessed the damage, and instead of swearing, stubbornly declared: God is greater than any problem I have! In his own unique way, he showed me how one can stand firmly on both feet in life, with faith being a fundamental part of that life. This lesson was far more important and lasting for me than all the English I learned during that time. At the end of the summer, I returned to Germany completely fulfilled, with the desire to travel back to North America to my farm as soon as possible.
But that didn’t happen right away. In 2005, the World Youth Day in Cologne took place— from America’s perspective: right at my doorstep—and I was involved in helping with the preparations. Some friends from Canada also came to visit me. Or rather: my parents. They arrived too early to have accommodation yet, but too late to meet me. I was somewhere in the Sauerland, preparing a summer camp for children, and was very annoyed not to be in Cologne where the music was happening. This was one of those moments when my plans clashed with God’s plans. And although I was convinced that my plans were brilliant and His were stupid, I remembered what I had learned the previous summer: God is greater! With more rational decision-making than emotional joy, I decided to go along with it. But I couldn’t help but do so quietly and without fanfare. I regularly reminded Him and complained to Him about my plight. Much like Peter in the Gospel when he says to Jesus: “We have left everything behind, what will we get in return?” (cf. Mt 19:27).
The Great Decision
After World Youth Day, I moved quickly toward my high school diploma: the final school year began. Now I realized I had to further concretize my future plans. Up to that point, I had been postponing them and avoiding the well-meaning questions about it with deliberately bold answers. The struggle was as follows: Should I travel to America again, improve my language skills, and then pursue an engineering degree— that was my plan—or should I first explore whether I should let God play a bigger role in my life? Not just in the background, but at the forefront? I needed a year to resolve this struggle into a decision. Besides my interest in returning to America, I was also very attracted to a technical degree, as I had achieved some successes in this area toward the end of high school. But deep inside, I was aware that I would only lead a truly fulfilling life if I was generous toward God’s will and not toward my own. The more I engaged with this question, the more I wrestled with it, the more I became aware of the great freedom God granted me. Regardless of how my decision would turn out. So, in this situation, I asked God for clarity. I was inclined more toward engineering based on my own drive, but if He wanted something different from me, He should make it clear and explicit. A few weeks later, the pilgrimage I mentioned at the beginning took place. What I experienced was quite a clear sign. Similar embarrassing situations would repeat for me, always accompanied by the phrase: “if you are a priest…”. At first, I felt quite put off by God—only later did I realize that He had taken me seriously.
In 2006, after finishing high school, I entered the novitiate of the Legionaries of Christ in Bad Münstereifel. Since I already knew the spirituality and community, I was clear that if I became a priest, it would be here.
Pe. Mariano Ballestrem was born in 1986 in Bonn, Germany. He was a member of ECYD and joined Regnum Christi at age 16. In 2006, he entered the novitiate in Bad Münstereifel and made his first temporary vows there in 2008. Afterwards, he studied two years in Salamanca, Spain, in Humanistic Studies and Philosophy in Rome. His apostolic internship took place from 2012 to 2015 in Germany, where he cared for the concerns of friends and benefactors. During this time, on September 6, 2014, he also took his perpetual vows in Altötting. From 2015 to 2018, he studied Theology at the Pontifical Athenaeum Regina Apostolorum in Rome. He currently lives in Washington DC, USA, working in youth ministry and in the national leadership of the coworker program Regnum Christi Mission Corps.
