Leo Tucker, 25 January 2024
In this first blog of the year, Leo Tucker shares his own story. Based in Sydney, he is the Executive Director Mission and Spirituality at St Vincent de Paul Society NSW. Thanks, Leo!
Elizabeth: Tell me a bit about your own ministry journey.
I guess I began my ministry journey in the mid-1970s as an altar boy in my local parish of St Nicholas of Myra Penrith. My family were a Sunday practicing family and so it seemed logical for my brother and I to join the altar boy club. In 1981 my parish priest “volunteered” me for Acolyte training! Well, he rang me at work and asked if I would be interested but said that someone was going to pick me up at 6pm anyway, so my discernment time was cut a little short!
By about the mid-1980s, and after much prompting from my well-educated Godmother, I began discerning a pathway into higher education. At the time I was not thinking a theological degree or priesthood, but after several conversations with our assistant priests in my home parish, mixed with a few glasses/bottles of red wine, I began to pursue a seminary life. This began with several weekends of retreat and reflection in order to fully discern this path for myself, the Diocese of Parramatta and St Patrick’s College Manly Seminary staff.
By February 1989, I began seminary studies for the diocesan priesthood, for the Diocese of Parramatta. Interestingly, I was originally placed on a six-month probation for studies as I had never perused other education after the Higher School Certificate, which was eight years prior to seminary entrance. My personal results for the HSC were dismal, so I do understand their reluctance. This probation was dropped after I secured a High Distinction mark from the Chair of Theology Fr Dr David Coffey with the remark of “this is a wonderful foundation for your theological career”. Eighteen months later he actually failed me for a course on Grace! I won some and lost a few academically!
In 1994 in my home parish of St Nicholas of Myra, I was ordained to the diaconate in the presence of Bishop Bede Heather. On the 16th June 1995 in St Patrick’s Cathedral, Parramatta, I was ordained to the presbyterate and was then appointed to the parish of St Michael’s Catholic Parish, South Blacktown. I profoundly enjoyed priestly ministry and journeying with the people in their faith, especially through celebrations, but also through difficult and deeply sad times. It truly was and is a vocational calling to service. However, it was not my only calling, for on the 7th June 1997, I began family life with my wife Anne. Anne was always in my life as a close friend but as time moved this friendship became something deeper and so, through the support of my bishop, many conversations and times of prayer and meditation, I/we made the difficult decision to leave active ministry and marry. This was a very tough time for both of us and our families, but a decision I would make again and again.
My next vocational calling was to parenthood with the birth of Madeleine in 2000 and then Benjamin in 2001. As all parents would understand, it is a role in our lives that needs unconditional love and patience, openness, generosity of heart and soul, prayerfulness, and then more love!
Professionally, after active ministry, I took on roles in the funeral industry, St Vincent de Paul Society in the Wollongong Diocese, led Pastoral Services for St Vincent Health across NSW, then moved to the National Director of Mission for the Calvary Health Group and to my present roles of Spiritual Adviser for the State Council and Executive Director of Mission and Formation for the Society of St Vincent de Paul NSW. All roles held, and continue to hold, a strong commitment to service and, although I had left active ministry, I was still called to vocational ministries of pastoral presence and service.
Much changed in 2016 when my wife was suddenly diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia and died in July, a week before her 47th birthday. Maddie was 12 days short of her 16th birthday and Ben was only 14 at the time. It was a time which changed our lives forever and my focus of ministry was then with my children, family, friends and importantly, to myself. Although there was much pastoral wisdom in bereavement, the one thing I learnt was that on the evening Anne closed her eyes to this world she also closed my eyes to all our hopes and dreams, our plans and wishes. So, I needed to find a way to understand that closure, then create a clean slate and slowly but surely begin to pencil in the new dreams and hopes, joys and wishes.
Today, Maddie is a primary school teacher, a dream that was once her mother’s, and Ben is completing his Masters in Exercise Physiology. I remain in my role with the St Vincent de Paul Society. With Maddie and Ben opening their avenues of vocations and building their personal relationships, I look to begin another vocational journey. After much prayer, reflection, discernment, conversations (including with Anne at the graveside!) I am today considering a returning to active ministry. This is a process which will take much time and continued prayers, but I deeply feel it is the continued call from a loving God to walk in the service of pastoral and sacramental ministry. It all reminds me that we are sometimes not simply called to a single vocation, but we are, at times, called to vocations within vocations. This next journey is yet to begin.
Elizabeth: Tell me about an experience of celebrating liturgy that was very meaningful with a community ‘on the margins’.
There are two moments in this ministry journey which will remain close to my heart. The first is within a staff program with St Vincent’s Health called The Gift. Throughout the day, staff are lead through times of prayer, reflection, conversation and discussion of their individual response to their vocations as nurses, doctors, administration etc. and their response to the mission of the healing ministry. This ends with a dinner and trivia which is usually a point of celebration, joy and laughter. After the meal, the group is led into the Chapel to soft music, candle lights and a small fire set in a contained cauldron. The group sits in a time of silence and then is invited to write something that they want to let go of. The process is similar to reconciliation for then they place their writings into the cauldron with a pinch of incense, which they understand as handing this challenge in their life to God. It is a most powerful cathartic moment, and many succumb to tears during the evening liturgy, finishing with the music You Raise Me Up from The Secret Garden. It is a liturgy for those “on the margins” spiritually, which welcomes all to recognise something greater and unconditionally forgiving and loving.
The second is in my present role working in collaboration with Catholic Cemeteries in Homelessness Week. At the cemetery, there is a place dedicated to Society cofounder in Australia, Charles O’Neill. It is a walkway where the ashes are interred of those who have struggled in life and then been placed to rest. In it we hold a service of no judgement, but only compassionate commemoration. It is a liturgy for those on the peripheries who are remembered not for their addictions, circumstances or status, but because they were loved. It is a beautiful service, in a sacred space, for extraordinary people.
Elizabeth: What do you think is made possible by the ordained diaconal ministry?
In the Church today, I believe much is possible in the service of the Word through the diaconate. Firstly, the diaconate expresses that the Word of God in scripture and preaching is not something that happens before the main event of Eucharist at Mass! It recognises that God is present and that the Word is eternal, for as John points out; “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” (John 1:1) . The ministry then expresses to the People of God that the “Word became flesh, and lived among us” (John 1:14). This is an extraordinary ministry and one that must be recognised as a called vocation of service and not simply a step short of priesthood. It is a place today for married men (and their loving wives) called to a life of service and I pray that, as once was in the ancient earlier faith communities, a place for the movement of loving and dedicated women of faith and service.
Elizabeth: What communities on the margins do you feel are missing out on liturgical ministry?
I deeply believe that there are many on the peripheries of the life of the Church. Many, sadly, are excluded due to lifestyle, gender, status, disabilities, education and so on. Pope Francis has been, and continues to be, a voice for the voiceless and he has called us to hear the “cry of the earth and the cry of the poor” (Laudato Si 139). Sadly, the marginalised communities are missing out because they do not fit the recognised models. The Church sometimes does not recognise the Christmas story which unfolds before them time and again, for God became human in a family that was stigmatised and cast aside. They were not a family that would have been recognised within their own religious and faith community and yet without this family the event of God’s self-revelation in our world would not have happened. What other aspects of God’s incarnation are not being recognised today through our stubborn rejections?
Liturgy on the Margins 