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(The Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel published the following story by Tom Heinen on its website on September 6. R.W. Kornburger Jr. is a member of BLE Division 405 in Milwaukee, Wisc.)

MILWAUKEE — No priest was anywhere near St. Paul Church on Milwaukee’s south side when Alissa Ripley and Jason Detaeje stood together in front of the altar Saturday, but their marriage is recognized by the Roman Catholic Church as a binding, sacramental union.

When Deacon Ralph Kornburger witnessed them exchanging vows and rings before about 50 friends and relatives – just as a priest would have done – they were wed.

The 40-minute liturgy was similar to a Mass without the Eucharist.

But the wedding was, in every sense, the real deal.

“I thought it was great,” said the bride’s grandmother, Marilyn Gonzales, 68, a lifelong Catholic from Waukesha who was surprised when she learned that a deacon would handle the wedding.

The bride’s aunt, Mary Tewes, 40, of Muskego, was impressed that both Kornburger and parish director Daryl Olszewski, who gave the homily, told the people that they are married and have children.

“They know what these kids are about to embark on,” said Tewes. “It’s good for the kids to know that these men are dedicated to God and are committed to their marriages.”

Seeing more ceremonies

A deacon for 24 years, Kornburger has presided at an increasing number of weddings in recent years, partly because of the worsening priest shortage. It’s not a complete record, but he’s had two dozen couples sign the sash-like liturgical stole that he wears over his white alb. That included five of his own children and their spouses.

Deacons, common in the early church, were reinstituted after the Second Vatican Council, said Deacon John Ebel, associate director of the certificate program at St. Francis Seminary that trains deacons and people in lay ministries.

Deacons – all men, at least 35 years old – can be married at the time they are ordained, but they cannot remarry if their wife dies, he said.

Depending on their level of training and the local church’s needs, deacons preach, teach, counsel, reach out to the poor, work on social-justice issues, and do other things. They can baptize, conduct funeral rites and give blessings, but they can’t say Mass or hear confessions.

There are 218 parishes and 121 active, permanent deacons in the Archdiocese of Milwaukee. But many Catholics don’t know that deacons can preside at weddings.

“Sometimes you get the reaction, ‘I’m being short-changed. Is this somehow less than?’ ” Ebel said. “And the answer is no. We are celebrating the church’s liturgy of marriage. It’s just not within the context of a Eucharistic liturgy.”

Ripley knew that St. Paul was run by Olszewski, who has extensive training to serve as both an administrator and a lay pastor. She also knew that Father Andrew Nelson came on weekends to say Mass and hear confessions.
Looking to the future

That’s one of several possible models that parishes throughout the archdiocese are now being asked to consider as they plan for a future in which the already thinned number of active diocesan priests is projected to drop by 20% in five years.

What Ripley didn’t know was that Nelson, the former rector of St. Francis Seminary, had another commitment on her wedding day.

Olszewski couldn’t get a priest. So he turned to Kornburger, who is assigned to St. Catherine Church on the west side. The men knew each other because Olszewski formerly was St. Catherine’s parish director.

Ripley found out about the switch before Olszewski had a chance to tell her. It happened in July when she and Detaeje gathered with other engaged couples from the archdiocese for a program where Kornburger and his wife, Jane, spoke.

“When we had to stand up and say when we were getting married and where, Ralph said, ‘I think I’m marrying you guys,’ said Ripley 22, of Cudahy. “And I went, ‘What?’ I was just a little shocked. I just didn’t know that they could, and I was a little surprised.

“He explained it to us, and I was fine with it. I was actually glad. I like Ralph, his personality. He’s really energetic, and we had a lot of fun doing our rehearsal. He’s really a good guy.”

It wasn’t an issue for Detaeje, 27. He was raised in a Lutheran tradition and hasn’t converted to Catholicism.

Deacons with the proper training can preside at any wedding, but interfaith weddings without a Mass or optional distribution of communion work especially well because they avoid the awkwardness of “who goes to Communion?”, Kornburger said.
Training is required

Men don’t need a college degree to become deacons, but the diaconate program has gradually increased its training requirement to five years, with candidates spending a 10-hour day in classes, study and prayer about two Saturdays per month. They accumulate about 800 hours of classroom time, plus about 200 hours on retreats, in parishes and in the community ministering to the poor.

Their non-paying ministry requires anywhere from 15 hours to 60 hours a month, usually while holding down a full-time job to support their families, Ebel said.

“In everyday activities, (a deacon) mirrors Christ the servant, as opposed to Christ the priest,” said Ebel, 50, a former industrial microbiologist who is married and has two sons. “People should see in his life an ordained minister who struggles just the way they do to meet the demands of work and family.”

The number of active deacons here has dropped from 154 in 1997 to 121 now. Every two years, an average of about 10 deacons are ordained.

Longer preparation time and more rigorous academic requirements could be discouraging some candidates as the church moves to produce deacons who are all qualified to preach at Mass and witness weddings as soon as they are ordained, said Timothy Charek, director of the seminary’s certificate division. The inability to remarry could be another factor, he said.

Also, the diaconate attracted large classes as a new ministry in the mid-1970s, and now those classes are reaching retirement age.

Why did Kornburger, a retired locomotive engineer, become a deacon?

“The road I was going down was going nowhere,” said Kornburger, 62. “Working on the railroad and being out long hours lent itself to searching for what it was all about, for meaning in my life.” Becoming a deacon “gave me direction, a chance to be of service to other people and the God who called me to this.”