Enrique R. Ansaldi, pediatric physician, married to Cecilia A. Iwanowski, a teacher of general and special primary education, both originally from Rosario, province of Santa Fe, Argentina. They have lived in San Rafael since 2000. Retired from public healthcare, he continues working in a private practice. He has been studying Bioethics since 2021.
What does it mean for you to already have four sons who are priests and to be about to have a fifth ordained?
I will begin by commenting on what it meant when José and Emmanuel decided to continue their lives in the minor seminary at ages 16 and 14 respectively. Having chosen a solid humanistic secondary education, it was normal—or at least not out of place—that they would want to experience firsthand what priestly life was, each deciding from different motivations—and surely different predispositions.
After a few years, and one after another, Javier, Gregorio, and Joaquín also chose the same path. It has now been 25 years since those first “vocational stirrings,” and during this year, God willing, Joaquín’s priestly ordination will take place.
The first personal impact I experienced was when José, the first to receive the cassock, visited me at my new workplace. Through his religious presence, I became aware of my new social identity, and with it came a growing gratitude to God for His active love among us, for that first vocation, and naturally for the other four that followed in due time, each adding their religious presence.
All of this meant—and still means, even now in retirement—having to explain “why they become priests” and “why all of them…”. From the beginning, when people say “it sounds strange,” I have maintained that yes, it is uncommon; many families experience something similar, but we live it day by day as something normal, as what has been given to us. We accept it because we see our sons making a free, faithful, and joyful choice. Therefore, we know and desire this because it is ours—a gift from God—and God knows why it was given to us in this way.
A short time later, something new happened in our home: we added a chapel so that they could celebrate Mass during their vacation periods.
How has this fact contributed to intensifying the call to holiness in your family?
I return to what I mentioned earlier about my “re-identity,” which means nothing other than a deeper dialogue with God. I have not ceased to be just one more among others in my environment—“one more, but the father of five priests” (even when they were still seminarians, seeing them in cassocks people already called them “priests”).
Spouses, through the sacrament, cooperate with God in the creation and education of children, seeking that the home reflect the ideal of the Child Jesus, the Virgin Mary, and Joseph the artisan—an ideal toward which we were already inclined during our courtship and to which we consecrated ourselves in marriage. In truth, by God’s grace, we recognize that this search had already begun in our respective families of origin—a phenomenon spanning several generations (some from Eastern and others from Western Europe), families of simple life centered on home, work, and faith.
Although it is a gift from God rather than a merit of the parents, in what way do you think this example builds others up and gives hope?
I am convinced that I do not know, because only God can give such an account—if He wishes—of what, how, how much, and when He does with what He gathers from our efforts. We try to live daily life intensely, although most of the time we are overwhelmed by its demands; necessary activities often push aside leisure and contemplation. Even so, we rejoice in God because He knows the reason for these things. One day—that is our hope—we will recognize Him face to face, having at least intended to be faithful to Christ’s command: “be holy as my Father is holy.” In conversations with acquaintances, neighbors, relatives, friends, and even enemies, our contribution lies mainly in sharing experiences of family life, along with elements of study—teaching, medicine, apologetics, exemplary lives—but we do not have much knowledge of their impact. Only God knows.
You told me that this is something you did not ask for, but rather entrusted yourself to God’s will without asking for anything. Why?
First, because I was taught that the Our Father, with its seven petitions, encompasses all our material and spiritual needs: faith, adoration, praise, thanksgiving, repentance, forgiveness, hope, communion, charity, avoidance of evil, and the elevation to God of the one who prays and of all people of all times.
Secondly, because vocation—the call—comes from God, who knows whom, how, when, and where to call. For us parents and our surroundings, it only remains to provide a suitable environment—something we often do imperfectly, but God is realistic and works wonders even with that—and each person freely decides how to respond to God. This is the daily paternal attitude, the strongest desire: that they be free, faithful to God, and happy. As for the mother’s heart… I understand that God counts on her in a way that is inscrutable to me.
Nobility obliges—the nobility of Saint Joseph—and so I recount an event: when they were still children, there was a time when every Sunday the celebrant, at the end of Mass, would say a communal prayer asking for “many and holy priests.” After some time, somewhat uncomfortable with this repeated insistence, I said to Saint Joseph: we only have five small children… do as you see fit…
Briefly tell us about their current assignments…
Yes, currently all five live outside Argentina, and only two share the same mission permanently:
José and Javier in a parish on the outskirts of Toulon, France.
Emmanuel studying Archaeology in Rome.
Gregorio in a parish on the outskirts of Portoviejo, Ecuador.
Joaquín (Juan Diego in religion), a Benedictine monk and deacon, on the outskirts of Avignon, France.
How did the family environment provide the right setting for these vocations to grow?
God knows how ideal His field is and what its best harvest will be. Each of our children had to give his own personal response, as their processes were different, leaving home at different ages and therefore at different stages of family life, sometimes more comfortable, sometimes less.
The development of the family, despite normal ups and downs, has been one of growth in faith, personal and family prayer, care for others, sacramental life beginning with early baptism, then the normal course of the sacraments, and always at least Sunday Mass, participation in household tasks, games, pets, reading time, personal responsibility in school, communication with neighbors and extended family—and answering the door when anyone called, known or unknown.
An anecdote: once, one of our sons, at age three, in keeping with that “rule,” answered someone who asked for shoes for a child and gave him a pair—two left shoes… so in the end, three children were left barefoot. I can affirm that prioritizing service to God and neighbor—loving neighbor for the sake of God—is a habit that leads us to Heaven; and it is possible that this influenced our sons to realize that faithful priesthood is the greatest service to God and neighbor, and the full realization of oneself.
A similar environment is what we, as spouses and parents, experienced in our own families from childhood. That treasure—in earthen vessels—is what we brought into courtship and marriage, always governed by the costly fidelity to Truth, to the ends of marriage, to the family mission, and above all to the worship of God… the best clothing and shoes were reserved for Mass. We understand that God, through this domestic formation, made life and vocation easier for us, and it remains—up to now—the basic element for sheltering our children and daily praying that “things go well for them, that they have zeal only for Him,” while also awaiting a letter or some news… though that is only an added consolation.
To what extent could one vocation have influenced the others?
It follows from what was said earlier: just as our families of origin spontaneously and naturally fostered our vocation to marriage, we understand that this same natural stimulus served them—each one and from one to another—in hearing and responding to their vocation. Only God knows exactly how. It is normal among siblings to observe what others do and to take something from it. Their processes were different. One day each may tell his story. For now, we have few details, except for one who said, “I’m going too—but it has nothing to do with my brothers…”
We also have at least three other children who, very early in their gestation, with only baptism of desire, were called by our Father. I say this convinced of their prayer and influence upon their priest brothers and their monk-deacon brother.
Why can Catholic families that properly educate their children be a great seedbed of vocations?
We know this happens and can be explained without complication by a certain natural and logical relationship among those coherent characteristics. Asking apples from a poplar tree is not reasonable because it is not natural. God writes straight with my crooked lines, because He needs them to give me His grace; He cannot give it to me through someone else’s lines. God needs priests and religious, marriages, and celibate laypeople to extend His Kingdom to all people. For this, He has seen fit to use marriage, the family—especially large families—education, and the Christian nation… The more and the better of these, the greater the possibilities of response. It is a conjunction of quantity and quality—although God can act differently, as there are testimonies of vocations that had none of these… or perhaps they did, through the prayer of families striving for holiness.
Why should parents not oppose God’s call in the least?
Because we must answer for the existence and happiness of our children, at least by cooperating with them as persons and giving them the environment to discover their vocation and assume the corresponding responsibility—fidelity. It is a civic duty and a religious duty, human and Christian, together forming one personal-social duty, something ontologically included and necessarily developed as the meaning and moral purpose of each human life. Thus the mother, the father, the child—each one—fulfills his or her vocation. Undoubtedly, we do so with the help of others, also growing in vocational perfection.
1 For some years now, his monastic name has been Juan Diego.
2 Cf. John Paul II, Familiaris Consortio, no. 19.