Vincente Hoàng Ngọc Hân is an incoming novice of the Society of Jesus in Vietnam. Along with 12 others, he will begin the novitiate on July 31, the feast of St Ignatius of Loyola. In this reflection, he shares how growing up in the place where the first missionaries introduced the faith to Vietnam influenced his vocation discernment.
I was born in a small countryside that belongs to the Diocese of Bùi Chu, where the seeds of the Catholic faith in Vietnam were first sown in 1533. In 1670, French bishop Lambert de la Motte (known as Micae Lmô Tế in Vietnamese and one of the first two Catholic bishops in the country) founded in the diocese the first indigenous religious congregation for Vietnamese women, the Lovers of the Holy Cross, which numbers continue to grow up to this day. Of the 117 Vietnamese martyrs canonised by the Vatican, 26 were born in the diocese and 18 were executed for their faith while serving there between the 18th and 19th centuries.
Perhaps it was growing up on this land, so rich in the heritage of faith, which allowed a small seed of religious vocation to be sown quietly within my heart. I still remember how, as a child, I longed to join the altar servers in my parish. Though that dream never came true, I was gradually drawn—almost unknowingly—by the sight of the parish priest offering daily Mass. There was something profoundly sacred about the image of a priest in liturgical vestments, elevating the chalice and breaking the consecrated host. That image etched itself deeply into my heart with quiet intensity.
I began to ask myself: “What would it be like if one day I became a priest?” That question did not arise as a passing thought but rather as a persistent interior stirring—one filled with deep inspiration and longing. Was it, perhaps, the first time I felt a “crush” on God? No, for me it was not a mere crush. A crush fades over time and leaves nothing behind. But this experience left a lasting mark—something that resonated and grew over time like a quiet summons. I felt within myself a strong desire to live differently, to follow the Lord more closely. That early spiritual encounter became the inner flame that nurtured my vocation through the years of growing up and especially now that I am beginning my formation as a Jesuit novice.
Over the years of being away from home, I noticed that every time I would return to my village, I would find that things were gradually changing: new commercial structures in what used to be agricultural lands, more houses that share the communal canal that serves as a drainage and irrigation channel, expanding cathedral grounds to accommodate more activities, and the diocesan cathedral itself receiving a much-needed refurbishment, among others.
But the changes I noticed the most went beyond what my eyes could see, because they involved the hearts of those in my own family. Ever since I grew more serious in my discernment to become a religious, I have witnessed the Lord pouring abundant graces and tender love upon my family. These changes did not come from outside but from within: my family became gentler, more united, and especially freer and more mature in their faith. What Jesus said to Peter resonates with me: “Truly I tell you, no one who has left home or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields for me and the Gospel will fail to receive a hundred times as much in this present age…along with persecutions—and in the age to come, eternal life.” (Mark 10:29–30)
In a few days, I will be leaving behind my beloved homeland—a land rooted in centuries of faith—to follow Christ in the Society of Jesus. My heart is filled with a mix of joy and concern. Joy, because I am walking one step further with Jesus. Concern, because I know my own limitations and weaknesses and the challenges that religious life may bring. Yet I believe I do not walk this path alone: I walk with my brothers, with the Society, and above all—with the Lord, who journeys alongside me.
The Lord first planted me in a small piece of land rich in spiritual nutrients: my native land and its faith. Now that the seed (that is me and is in me) is beginning to sprout, He is lovingly transplanting me into a larger garden, where the conditions for growth in love and service are richer still: the least company of sinners bearing His Most Holy Name, the universal Society of Jesus.



