Jolaine wrote this reflection following St. Phoebe Day 2025: 

St. Phoebe, My Vocation, and the Hope That Carries Me

“Wherever God has put you, that is your vocation. It is not what we do but how much love we put into it.” -St. Teresa of Calcutta

Yesterday was the feast day of St. Phoebe—a saint I hadn’t even heard of until a few months ago. But today, she’s one of my favorites.

Phoebe appears in St. Paul’s Letter to the Romans, where he commends her as a “deacon of the Church” and entrusts her with delivering his letter to the Roman community (Romans 16:1-2). This brief mention is more than a historical footnote—it points to her as an ordained and respected leader, preacher, and teacher of the early Church.

I was introduced to St. Phoebe through Discerning Deacons, an organization passionately working to amplify women’s voices in the Church and advocate for the restoration of women to the diaconate.

Last night, I joined hundreds of people from around the world for a virtual prayer service hosted by Discerning Deacons. We prayed for our Church, lifted up the voices of communities across continents, celebrated the elevation of women’s leadership in Paragraph 60 of the Vatican’s final document of the Synod on Synodality, and heard the call to go forth and share the Good News.

It was a night that filled me with HOPE.

You see, I’ve long felt a Vocation to ministry—not just a job, but a deep, persistent calling from God to teach and preach the Gospel, and care for others. And yet, over the years, I’ve been told—by more than one Church leader—that what I feel is not a “Vocation,” but merely a “job.”

Why?
Because I’m a woman.
Because I get paid.
Because lay ministry isn’t formally recognized as a Vocation.
Because, “Jesus didn’t ordain women.”

Never mind that priests are paid.
Never mind that most of them don’t carry the financial burdens many lay ministers do.
Never mind that several women are mentioned in the Bible as leaders and ministers.
Never mind that countless women have poured their lives into ministry for centuries.

Still, I remain—not because this is my plan, but because it’s God’s.

And last night, as I listened and prayed with women and men across the globe, I felt seen.

I felt seen in my call to pastoral care, to teaching, to preaching—just as clearly as my ordained colleagues are seen in theirs. I felt valued. Not invisible. Not dismissed.

I don’t know what the future holds—for me, or for the role of women in the Church.

But I know this:

I have HOPE.

Hope that women’s gifts will be recognized, not just quietly acknowledged but joyfully celebrated.
Hope that the Church will continue discerning the Spirit’s movement.
Hope that my Vocation—and the Vocations of so many others—will be recognized for what they truly are: holy, vital, and Spirit-led.

St. Phoebe, Pray for Us!