When he was 21 years old, Fr Nhân Le made the bold and dangerous decision to escape Vietnam. It was 1980, five years after the north of Vietnam had taken over the south, and he would soon be expected to become a member of the Communist Party or risk being sent away to nobody knew where. Instead, Fr Nhân decided to go ‘searching for freedom’.
Today, Fr Nhân is Parish Priest at the combined parishes of St John Bosco, Niddrie, and St Martin de Porres, Avondale Heights. He recently celebrated his silver jubilee—25 years of ordination to the priesthood. During his homily for this occasion, he shared the story of his vocation and how, despite many tremendous challenges, God lovingly brought him to where he is today.
It was not a story of him choosing God, he said, but of God choosing him.
Offered to God
When Fr Nhân was born, both he and his mother nearly died. The midwife called his father in from work, saying, ‘I have never experienced a case like this. Your wife is haemorrhaging; she is bleeding to death, and her child isn’t able to be born.’ His father felt at a loss: ‘If you don’t know what to do, neither do I,’ he told her.
Fearing the loss of his wife and the prospect of raising six children by himself, he begged God for help, and promised to give his unborn child to the Lord as a priest if they survived.
‘I heard that story,’ Fr Nhân admitted, ‘and I didn’t like it. It was my father’s promise, not mine.’
Nevertheless, as he grew older and learnt to see with ‘a faith seeking understanding perspective’, he recognised that his father was faced with something beyond his ability to control, deciding to leave it totally in the hands of God—the name ‘Nhân’ means ‘God’s mercy’, Fr Nhân explained.
The Old Testament has similar stories. Abraham and Sarah are one example, as are Elkanah and Hannah. Both couples offered their children to God in thanksgiving.
‘I believe that thanksgiving is a ritual where we acknowledge what God has done and that all that we have is a gift from God given to us,’ Fr Nhân said. ‘Our right and just response is to offer back to God and to allow God to do whatever he likes.’
By God’s mercy, both he and his mother survived. When he was old enough, after primary school, Fr Nhân was sent to minor seminary in Vietnam, which was how people began studying for the priesthood in his country.
‘I didn’t know anything about the priesthood—I only remember we ate dry fish, and if we were not quick enough, we would miss out,’ he said.
But then, in 1975, the north of Vietnam took over the south and everything changed.
A dangerous journey
As a result of communist occupation, all of the seminaries in Vietnam were closed, preventing him from pursuing a path to the priesthood. He went to university to study economics instead, but along with his brother, Van Phu Le, eventually decided to brave the terrible journey out of Vietnam.
‘In the high seas, we used a fishing boat which was used to running on the river,’ he explained. ‘The boat was like a leaf in the raging water. The waves were like monsters, ready to swallow us, but every morning brought new life and hope.’
Harrowing encounters with pirates left them robbed and the women on the boat raped. Some of the pirates towed them close to Malaysian shores, where they were instructed to sink the boat and swim the rest of the way in order to escape detection. In Malaysia, he had a short stay at Pulau Bidong Refugee Camp before setting out again on a boat and eventually coming to Australia, in January 1981.
In Australia, he didn’t return to seminary. He decided to study engineering instead and became successful in his work for an international mobile phone company. In his time with the company, he got to travel the world: he saw Niagara Falls, the top of the Jungfrau in Switzerland, the fjords of Norway and so much more. He also developed a love of photography in that time. It was while he was ‘chasing the landscapes of the world’ that he sensed God’s prompting: ‘What a wonderful world, and what can you do to make it a better world?’
I didn’t know what to do, but the call kept following me until I responded to it.
Finally, after ten years of sponsorship, Fr Nhân’s parents were able to come out to Australia too. He told his father that he was thinking of becoming a priest again, to which his father responded simply, ‘Go ahead, son.’
In 1992, Fr Nhân was accepted into Corpus Christi Seminary in Clayton.
Seminary was ‘a big shock’, he said. Not only was there a difficult shift in terms of finances, having spent so long relying on a regular wage, but the language barrier often proved distressing.
‘When they laughed, I laughed even if I didn’t understand their jokes. I didn’t understand what the joke was about, at the same time they couldn’t understand my expressions.’
It got to a point where he was considering leaving the seminary but chose to wait until the mid-year retreat. During prayer, he heard Jesus say, ‘You do your best, and I’ll do the rest.’ Fr Nhân responded, ‘Fair enough. I can only do what I can and you will handle what I can’t.’
‘Amazingly since then I did not feel the hurt any more. So far I have been a priest for 25 years and still very happy.’
Now, he said, ‘the landscape I am chasing is the kingdom of God, kingdom of love and justice, kingdom of mercy and compassion, and in that kingdom we need everyone to be part of it.’
‘Looking back at my life, I can see all is grace. My heart sings of God’s gracious love and praise, “Forever I will sing the goodness of the Lord.”’
