By, Deacon Nick Biever, Special to The Message
I didn’t grow up dreaming of priesthood. I grew up dreaming about becoming a Jedi from Star Wars. In high school, my life was all about Vanderburgh County 4-H, building computers, playing video games and working shifts at Dairy Queen. By college, I was studying Computer Information Systems at USI and excited about cybersecurity and all things IT. But I felt like Luke Skywalker staring out at the binary sunset – not bored, just sensing something mystical waiting out there. A call I couldn’t name yet.
And then, it found me. Sophomore year of college, in the middle of a superhero TV episode, it hit me like a surge in the Force. I felt the presence of God – personal, real and calling me bluntly with the words, “Nick, I want you to be a priest.”
That moment changed everything. I started praying about it, met with the vocations director and got involved with the USI Newman Center. Soon, I was applying to seminary.
Seminary was good. Clarifying. Holy. But after a year, I stepped away – thinking maybe God was calling me to marriage – a normal hidden life. I returned to IT, but what stood out wasn’t the technology. It was the people – walking with them in everyday joys and struggles. And slowly, that mystical call returned.
It was quieter and deeper than the first time. This time, I wasn’t just called to priesthood – but to serve the people of the Diocese of Evansville and bring them the Sacraments. So I returned to the seminary with fewer questions and a stronger ‘yes’ to God.
One of the moments it all clicked for me wasn’t in seminary itself. It was in a trauma hospital in Arkansas. That summer, I worked as a hospital chaplain, responding to trauma pages and sitting with patients. I sat with dozens of patients as they died. One day, after a few deaths, I realized something unexpected: my heart was shattered. Being a Christian isn’t about protecting your heart. It’s about giving it – letting it be pierced – just like Jesus does. And in the middle of these ministerial heartbreaks, letting the peace of Christ sit there like Jesus is next to us on a stone bench. There’s nothing more joyful than knowing your heart broke in the right place.
Now I’m standing on the threshold of fatherhood – as a deacon at St. Philip Parish. I’m practicing Mass, baptizing, preparing couples for marriage and walking with catechumens. In just a few weeks, I’ll lie on the marble floor again – this time, for priestly ordination. This time, it will be different. My soul will rise reshaped – and sent into the world as a father.
A fatherhood shaped by men like St. Joseph, who led with silence and reverence. Like St. Thomas More, who stood firm in conscience and faith. And ultimately like Jesus – the true Eternal High Priest – who gives his heart and life – again and again.
On the day of priest ordination, Heaven will mark our hands with Chrism. And through them, grace will strike like lightning.
Hands that will consecrate the Body of Christ.
Hands that will absolve sin.
Hands that will anoint the sick and bless the people.
Not because of who I am – but who Christ is through his priests.
In a world dimmed by distraction and doubt… a priest glows – consecrated with the light of Christ, so that the people too may glow in light.
Till the death.