Exhortation at Final Profession to Religious Life of First Resident

Rejoice with the Confraternity of Penitents! Br. Pachomius, a CFP Member in 2010, and the first resident of the Confraternity of Penitents Discernment Houses, entered religious life in 2011 with a Franciscan community that was later disbanded. He then joined the monks at St. Martin's Abbey, in Lacey, Washington USA, beginning his novitiate in 2020. On July 11, 2025. Br. Pachomius took his final profession as a Benedictine monk with that abbey.
​
Adopted by a single mother when he was twelve years old, Br. Pachomius's journey, alluded to here, is an inspiration for anyone who has experienced rejection and disappointment. May it give you hope.
Profession Mass Exhortation by the Abbot
You are Pachomius, our brother
​
July 11, 2025 Feast of Saint Benedict
Brother Pachomius,
Today, before the Church and your monastic community, you present yourself—body, mind, and soul—as an offering to God through the vows of stability, obedience, and conversion of life. You do so not as a young man but at nearly 55 years old, with the richness and complexity of a life already lived. And yet, in the eyes of the Eternal One, we are all children. Today you take your place among God’s “chosen ones, holy and beloved,” as Saint Paul reminds us in the second reading from Colossians. This moment has been long in coming—and eternally in the making.
The readings chosen today are not coincidental but providential—always so for those who see with eyes of faith. They speak with uncanny resonance to your life story, your struggles, and your hard-won discoveries of God and His grace.
Like the young Samuel, you heard a voice—persistent, patient, and personal—calling you by name. That voice echoed through a long road, through many homes, many chapters, and many questions. It echoed even through silence, misunderstanding, and instability. But the voice never stopped calling. Like Samuel, you have responded with growing confidence and clarity: “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.”
The significance of Samuel’s vocation was not evident to him at first. He was just a boy, unsure of what he was hearing, unaware of what his “yes” would bring. But his faithfulness changed the course of Israel’s history—bridging the time of judges to the monarchy, anointing the first kings Saul and David, shaping the spiritual future of God’s chosen people. It is not an exaggeration to say: we do not know yet how significant your “yes” will be for us. But we know that it matters.
The voice of the Lord that has pursued you is the same voice that sings through Psalm 40: “He put a new song into my mouth.” You know what it is to feel voiceless, to be unseen, to feel unloved. But now, this profession is your new song. Not only a song of joy, but of justice; not only a vow of hope, but a testimony of healing. The very pain and instability that marked your early life have become the soil in which your vocation has taken root. What the world deemed broken, God has made beloved. What was unstable, God has grounded.
You have spoken to me—and to others—about how stability has been the most challenging of the three vows. You do not say this as an excuse but as someone who has lived the contrast. You know what it is to be moved not by your own choosing, to feel unmoored, to look for home. But God has brought you here. Not just to a place, but to a people and a community. In this community, you have found the beginning of something you had never known: the stability of love. And though it will never be perfect—because none of us are—your choice today is a declaration of trust: that the God who called you is the same God who will keep you, and who will keep forming all of us through your presence.
St. Paul’s exhortation in Colossians gives flesh to what your life now proclaims: “Clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience.” These are not mere moral ideals—they are the garments of Christ, worn by those who belong to Him. But how does one clothe oneself in virtues never modeled? You know this better than most. You have not been given the best examples; you’ve often seen the opposite. But God has given you something deeper—the desire. You’ve learned by contrast. By the “book of experience,” as Bernard calls it. You’ve come to know the good because you have lived through the lack of it.
Your past is not a disqualification; it is your novitiate, even if a very long one. Your journey has made you a man who yearns—for love, for truth, for belonging, for God. And that yearning is holy. Benedict calls us to conversion every day, and you know now that the conversion that brings peace is not the changing of others, but the change that begins in one’s own heart. You have tasted the truth of Joseph’s words to his brothers who rejected him and sold him into slavery: “It was really for the sake of saving lives that God sent me here ahead of you.” You have begun to let go of blame—of others, of yourself—and to accept the love of God that is not ashamed of your story but delights in redeeming it.
Your life has not been lived in a straight line. It has curved and twisted like a path through the wilderness. And yet the Word of God found you. Like a branch grafted onto the vine, you have begun to abide. You know now that you do not need to generate your own life— you are connected to Jesus Christ, the true vine. The Gospel you have chosen today from John 15 is the summit of your vocation: “Remain in my love… I call you friends… I have chosen you.” These are the words of Jesus spoken personally to you.
And you have answered. You have answered with gratitude for the gift of your mother, Elaine, whose love gave you an image of tenderness and affection and paved the way for this day. You have found a sibling in Michael, your brother—someone who reminds you of love and of the call to continue growing. You have learned that obedience is not just compliance but trust: trusting the voice of Benedict, trusting the voice of your conscience, trusting the discernment of others, and above all, trusting the voice of Jesus—who speaks truth in love and invites you into communion, not control.
So do not think that this profession is yours alone. It is yours, yes. It is the marvel of your discernment, the witness of your freedom, the offering of your life. But it is also a gift to us. Your vow confirms our vocation. You are the answer to our prayers. Your presence is a sign that God is not finished with us (with all the implications of this phrase). Your commitment today is the assurance that God still calls, still loves, still chooses.
Brother Pachomius, you are not perfect. Neither are we. But you are chosen. You are beloved. And you are home. May the new song God has placed in your mouth become a song for all of us—a song of joy, of mercy, of steadfast love.
We asked for God’s blessing…and we received you. You are Pachomius, our brother