Josephine Siedlecka talks to Fr Ronald Rolheiser on the occasion of his annual Catholic Herald lecture

HE'S ATTENTIVE, kind and goodhumoured. A meeting with Fr Ronald Rolheiser OMI soon begins to feel like a talk with a wise friend rather than an interview. We met at the Oblates' London house, on Canadian Thanksgiving Day, shortly before his annual Catholic Herald , lecture.
Last year, Fr Ron told me about his background. He was born in 1948, in a small . Saskatchewan farming community. His parents, George and Matilda, were " descended from German farmers who had emigrated first to Russia, then to Canada after the Revolution.
Fr Ron said: "I look back on my childhood very fondly. If I could order an upbringing from a catalogue I'd take that one. There were 16 of us. We were a joyous family. We'd sit around the table discussing everything. Most of our neighbours were Catholic. It was a very . sheltered, close-knit community."
His parents weren't that strict, but he said: "There were some essential moral boundaries you didn't cross. Generally our house was pretty free. For instance, I was one of the only kids at high school that never drank or smoked. Yet I was one of the few that had permission , to. We had beer and tobacco in the house. But we were also told about the good sense of moderation. There was a kind of implicit trust system and you didn't want to betray that.
"My parents were very different from each other, but very complementary. Mum was the soft touch who couldn't say no to anything. Dad was more authoritarian. He never yelled or hit us but could give you such a look of disapproval or disappointment you stayed in line.
"As kids we were always trying to play one parent off against the other. It never worked. They were a united front. They had a unique marriage. They'd met at a parish picnic. Mum was about 18. Dad was in his early 20s. They were very close. When he died, about 25 years ago, she followed three months later. She wasn't going to live without him.
"All the children turned into happy and adjusted adults" he continued. One older brother became a priest, one sister was a nun. Several brothers and sisters became teachers and nurses. Two still run the farm.
Although he describes himself as a "lifer", Fr Ron's initial decision to become a priest didn't come easily. He said: "It was something I'd always resisted. My mother was the family vocations director. She didn't put pressure on us, but she would say 'you have to consider whether you've been called'. And whenever she said that I'd be out of the room straight away. I didn't want to hear At 18 Ron was all set to start a psychology degree at the University of Saskatchewan.
"The course started on September 6th," he said. "On August 16th I went to see our parish priest. Two weeks later I was in the seminary. I remember the date really well. Everything was calling me.
"I was working for a local farmer, driving home late it was on my mind all the time. The night before I decided, I really felt 'I don't want to do this'. It's interesting. Vocation stories are all different. My other brother wanted to be a priest from the time he was a kid. And he's done well and he's happy. I resisted and resisted. But as soon as I said 'yes' I realised it was there the whole time. Clear as a bell."
"I resisted partly because of the celibacy. Not to be married and have kids is an abnormal life and you picked it at some risk. I was also never very attracted by some of the trappings of the priesthood. I felt there was a danger that they could separate you from people and, more importantly, from yourself."