The Parousians Thank Father Bryce Sibley

“This probably isn’t what you want to hear...” Anyone who’s ever asked Father Bryce Sibley for advice has probably heard these words preface his reply. They’re the truth; Father Sibley never tells us what we want to hear, but that’s exactly why we value his counsel as much as we do. We trust him entirely.

I first met Father Sibley my freshman year of high school. He was my confessor at a retreat that came at a very pivotal moment in my formation as a young Catholic, and I’ve harbored a sincere appreciation for him ever since. I’ve fallen to pieces in front of him —“all tears,” as St. Teresa would say — on several occasions, and while he’s certainly been kind, he’s also never hesitated to challenge me to seek a higher sort of holiness.

The past six years have only deepened my admiration for Father Sibley. To some, he may seem stern, even callous at first, but that’s just his way of teaching us “tough love.” I can say without a doubt that Father Sibley is one of the most approachable priests I’ve ever known.

The Parousians’ meetings are always packed when Father Sibley comes to speak to us, and with good reason. He’s a brilliant, passionate, articulate teacher, one who we all know doesn’t mince words. He somehow manages to be both accessible and orthodox, and that’s what we as young people want from our priests: honesty, faithfulness to Mother Church, and a perceptible eagerness to help form us as young workers in the vineyard of our Lord.

Though he might not admit it, we know that Father Sibley cares deeply for us, and that his genuine affection for young people is born out of his courageous devotion to his first true love: the Church in the person of our Blessed Mother.

We’ve sat in rapt attention as he explained to us in detail how to correctly form our conscience; we’ve heard him lecture on John Paul the Great’s Theology of the Body; we’ve stood in awe together at his Novus Ordo Mass in Parks and shared many a meal with him over the past year. Many of us get a certain satisfaction out of seeing him waltz into the room, proudly sporting his cassock (and occasionally a white seersucker jacket).

Thank you, Father, from all of us, for answering God’s call to the Holy Priesthood, and for shepherding the Parousians this past year. You witness to us what it truly means to be “a Priest after God’s own Heart,” as St. John Vianney said, and you give us courage to actively seek out our own vocations. We’re grateful to you and for you.

After all, if it weren’t for you, we’d still be calling ourselves the “Puh-ruse-ee-ans.”