With ordination season upon us, we’re hearing more inspiring and surprising stories of the winding road that can lead a man to Holy Orders. From San Francisco comes this remarkable tale of one late vocation:

On the eve of his priestly ordination at 56, Mike Quinn is a late vocation by anyone’s definition. But listen to Quinn describe his spiritual path and it is clear the foundations of his calling were set early in life. The key element seems to have been that he grew up in an environment where he knew priests who were good men and who did good work.

The first of these role models was Father William Quinn, Mike Quinn’s uncle. A priest of the Archdiocese of San Francisco, now retired, Father Quinn was a frequent visitor at the Quinn home. He was a fun, approachable man who took it in stride when the kids peppered him with questions about his work.

“We always had the same question,” Mike Quinn recalled. ‘Did you hear a good confession?’ He would always kind of laugh. He would never tell me anything.”

Because of men like his uncle, young Quinn never had the fear of priests that others might have felt. “Our faith was kind of fun, it was approachable,” he said.

As he grew up the young nephew also came to admire his uncle’s stalwart obedience to his bishop and unwavering service to his parishioners.

“He was a fellow who endured,” Mike Quinn said. “When he was retired from here he had time to get sick. We he left here he was really sick. We talked about that and he said, ‘I never had time to get sick before.”‘

Holy Cross Father Patrick Peyton and Msgr. Henry Lyne were two other priests who made positive impressions on the young Quinn.

Quinn saw Father Peyton from afar. He was one of a half-million people who attended Father Peyton’s rosary crusade in San Francisco in 1961 and inspired families like the Quinns to pray the rosary together at home. The event stands out as one of the three most powerful times that Quinn has “seen the people’s faith explode.” The other two were a military discernment event at St. Raymond Parish last year and this year’s May Day service at Holy Name of Jesus Parish in San Francisco, combining 500 singers and a 30-piece orchestra.

Msgr. Lyne was pastor at Most Holy Redeemer Parish, where Quinn shared altar boy captain duties with his twin brother in the early 60s.

But as much as he was devoted to his faith and knew many admirable priests, young Quinn in no way felt called.

“I went to high school, started dating,” he said. “Loved dating. Girls were good. Went to college, married my high-school sweetheart. Unfortunately that didn’t work out. Came home one day and everything was gone, including her. I guess I was a little into work.”

Quinn’s work was financial management. He was a Certified Public Accountant enjoying a thriving career and a lifestyle to match. He had nice cars – black Lincoln Marks 7s were a favorite – and a 36-foot boat moored in Sausalito. He was a modern, free professional man leading, he admits, a charmed life.

“I believed life was mostly a meritocracy,” Quinn said.

Although he did not know it at the time, the annulment of his marriage and his decision not to remarry aligned him toward his new vocation.

“Being a Baltimore Catechism Catholic, I said you can’t remarry,” he said. “You only marry once.”

Quinn now was developing as an active lay Catholic, teaching religious education at St. Anthony of Padua Parish in Novato and helping out with parish finances. The work grew on him and soon he found himself dropping old hobbies. One incident in the mid-90s dramatized the change he was going through.

His brother, who was active in a group that supported the Navy, asked him if he wanted to jump on a helicopter and take a ride into the bay on an aircraft carrier that was outside the Golden Gate. His answer would have been unthinkable to Quinn as a younger man: “I’ve got religious education tonight. I can’t do that.”

Quinn’s involvement in his parish was growing to the point where he began to feel a call to enter the diaconate. He saw himself retiring from his job and serving as a deacon in his later years. But two encounters in 1996 pointed him in another direction.

Father Sarsfield Sullivan of Butte, Montana, Quinn’s father’s second cousin, was an occasional house guest. A remark he made on one visit seemed to foreshadow Quinn’s path: “He said, ‘You know, I’m praying for you to be a priest.”

Then-Auxiliary Bishop Patrick J. McGrath had become a friend through Quinn’s uncle. Quinn told the bishop of his plans to become a deacon and his decision not to remarry. The accountant at this time was bringing his dating career to a close. The bishop put the pieces together and came back with: “Why don’t you apply for the priesthood?”

Quinn responded with litany of reasons why that was a bad idea. The bishop listened and let his answer hang in the air: “Why don’t you just let God take this one.”

And so he did.

Visit the link for the rest and, as the great old hymn puts it, “Ponder anew what the Almighty can do!”