with Father Jeffrey Hennes
“ Though they differ from one another in essence and not only in degree, the common priesthood of the faithful and the ministerial or hierarchical priesthood are nonetheless interrelated: each of them in its own special way is a participation in the one priesthood of Christ.” (Lumen Gentium 10)
Every issue of Catholic Life begins by sharing one of our clergy’s stories. Simple black clerical garb, commonly worn, belie distinct personalities, powerfully individual devotions, unique holy experiences and wildly engaging senses of humor. These men are our shepherds, and
we are united to them through baptism and mission, so it is our hope that by sharing their stories, our bonds will grow and our communion deepen.
For this issue, we spent time with Father Jeffrey Hennes. Enjoy the conversation.
Catholic Life: When you walk into a room, what is it that you hope people feel in your presence?
Father Hennes: I hope they feel—without my sounding boastful—the presence of God. I want people to experience me as a representative of the Church, someone bringing forth the light and, most importantly, the love of Christ. My hope is that their reaction isn’t, “Oh no, Father’s here,” but rather, “Hey! Father’s here!”
Catholic Life: And how do you actually do that? Is it through the way you carry yourself or what you say? What do you think communicates it?
Father Hennes: It’s probably a combination of posture, presence and attitude. On any given day, I’ve got a lot running through my head. But I’ve learned to pause—breathe in, breathe out—and remind myself who I’m about to encounter. My goal is always to be the best vessel of the Holy Spirit that I can be. I am human, of course. I’ve certainly had moments where I’ve shared frustrations, and I wish I hadn’t. But in those moments, I try to refocus on goodness. Whenever I meet with someone, I remind myself: I’m here because of God’s love, and so are they. At the end of the day, that’s what it’s about. It’s not my church—it’s the Church of Christ.
Catholic Life: What is something about you that would surprise a parishioner?
Father Hennes: With my “amazing physique” [laughs], I’m actually a runner. I’ve run about six marathons and twice as many half marathons. It’s something I truly enjoy. My favorite race so far was the Paris Half Marathon. It was beautiful running through Paris, and it was a springboard for exploring Normandy, Lyon, even the UK. I enjoyed it so much that I came back and ran it again for three more years in a row.
Catholic Life: Which race was your favorite and which race do you look back on and shake your head?
Father Hennes: I hate to say it, but my least favorite was the Oktoberfest Half in La Crosse. The course itself was fine—until the return stretch through the parade route. That’s when I became acutely aware of just how many people smoke and how many grills were firing up brats and burgers. [laughs] Let’s just say a cloud of secondhand smoke and sausage grease isn’t exactly ideal race fuel.
Fresh Cut Hay and
“What a Priest Should Be”
Catholic Life: Tell us a bit about your roots—your hometown, your family and the environment that formed you.
Father Hennes: I grew up outside of Colby, Wis. Both sides of my family go back generations there. My grandparents lived nearby, and eventually, they built a home just a quarter-mile down the road. Church was always filled with familiar names—our family names [were] etched into the Stations of the Cross. I have one brother, but I was surrounded by cousins. My dad has seven sisters, all with children. My mom has five brothers and a sister. Extended family was a daily reality.
Catholic Life: Are there certain smells or sounds that bring you instantly back to that time?
Father Hennes: Fresh-cut hay. That’s summer joy. And incense—that brings me right back to childhood, serving Mass or benediction. Smells are deeply rooted in memory, and the scent of incense always reminds me of funerals and reverence.
Catholic Life: Looking back on your own life, who’s the priest who really embodied that love of Christ for you? Someone whose presence made you feel it?
Father Hennes: Monsignor John Malik, absolutely. He came to my home parish the summer before I started first grade and remained there through my college years. Even after retirement, he stayed in the parish until the Lord called him home. If someone asked me to describe what a priest should be, I’d say Monsignor Malik. He was kind, gentle, calm and a good listener—and he wasn’t afraid to challenge either. He’d ask, “Why do you think that?” or “Where did that idea come from?” Even as a child serving Mass, those little conversations before and after liturgy were edifying. And later in college, we had serious faith conversations. He was a gift.
Catholic Life:
People see you in the Roman collar every day, but when you’re alone—when you look in the mirror or return home—what grounds you? What brings you back to being Jeff, the little boy who grew up serving Mass with Monsignor Malik?
Father Hennes: I’ve always had a love for the outdoors. Fishing, hunting, hiking—those are lifelong passions. I’m also blessed to have some tangible reminders of home. After I was ordained, my home parish began renovating. My Mass of Thanksgiving took place in the middle of that renovation. The altar I used had a carved Paschal Lamb on it, and shortly after, the altar was removed. The parish saved it and gifted it to me. It’s in my bedroom. It’s one of the first sacred images I see every morning, and it reminds me where I came from.
Catholic Life: You mentioned fishing just now. Do you have a particularly memorable catch?
Father Hennes: The first time I went musky fishing was with the kitchen crew from a supper club where I worked. I’d never used a bait caster before and never even fished for musky. First cast—I caught a musky! I thought, “What’s so hard about this?” [laughs] It was the only musky of the day.
Bible Roulette
Points the Way
Catholic Life: What moved you away from your interests in business and science and toward the seminary?
Father Hennes: The Lord. I started college at the University of St. Thomas, studying actuarial science—a nice blend of math and business. But during my sophomore year, God started to tug at my heart in a way I couldn’t ignore. A men’s retreat with Saint Paul’s Outreach became pivotal. I brought everything to prayer—my major, my relationship, summer job offers—and I asked, “Lord, is this where You want me to grow?”
I was hoping for clarity. What I got was a quiet word in my heart: seminary. At first, I chuckled. Then it came again. Then louder—as if it had been spoken aloud.
Catholic Life:
Did you question it?
Father Hennes: Oh, absolutely. I laughed, to be honest. And then I did what you’re not supposed to do—I played Bible roulette. I opened the Bible, and my eyes landed on John 15:16: “It was not you who chose me, but I who chose you.” That stopped me cold. I didn’t tell anyone right away.
But when I got back to campus, I opened my email—and there was a message from a hometown acquaintance who happened to be in seminary. We weren’t especially close, but he’d taken that exact weekend to invite me to visit Saint John Vianney Seminary. I said yes. And the moment I stepped in, the agitation I’d been carrying all week settled. There was peace.
I reached out to Monsignor Malik to talk, even though I didn’t expect a quick reply. He usually only checked email once a month. But the very next day, he responded. We met that weekend. I shared the whole story, and he listened. That conversation helped seal it. I still didn’t know I was going to be a priest—but I knew I needed to enter seminary. I needed to give God space to keep speaking.
Catholic Life: If you could sit across the table from yourself back in seminary, what would you say?
Father Hennes: Take it one day at a time. Don’t rush through it. Seminary is a unique season, and the friendships you form there—you’ll carry them for life. I still bump into guys from those days. Each reunion is a gift. Savor the time.
The Invitation
to be Present
Catholic Life: The world is so fast and anxious. How do you help your parishioners find rest in God?
Father Hennes: By slowing down. That’s one of the gifts of the Mass—there’s no timer. No phones. Just prayer, song and silence. It re-centers us.
And I’ve noticed this hunger. Our Order of Christian Initiation of Adults (OCIA) numbers have grown. More and more people are reaching out. Even in schools, we’re moving away from screens. There’s a longing to reconnect with the basics—Scripture, presence and silence. The devil wants us exhausted and distracted. The Lord invites us to be present.
Catholic Life: Speaking of the sacrifice and celebration of the Mass compared to the distractions of a screen, parish life swings from funerals to finance meetings. How do you hold together the sacred and the ordinary?
Father Hennes: As a pastor, you care for the sheep—but also the barn. [smiles] Those things aren’t separate. It’s easy to measure success with a balance sheet. But finances don’t define a parish, just like GPA doesn’t define a Catholic school. We form souls.
Catholic Life: Not in terms of your schedule or checklist—but at the level of the heart and soul—what does a good day in ministry look like for you?
Father Hennes: Every night at 9:00, the requiem bell rings. If Father Williams and I are both home, we pause and pray Night Prayer in the rectory. That rhythm has become sacred to me. It’s a moment to look back and ask: Where did God move today? Where did I cooperate—and where did I resist?
Even the tough days are filled with grace, if we take time to notice. For me, a good day isn’t one where everything goes smoothly. It’s a day when, by the end of it, I can name the moments where God was unmistakably present.
The “Little Flower” and
Being Found
Catholic Life: During the eucharistic prayer, what line or gesture always moves you deeply?
Father Hennes: The epiclesis—when we call down the Holy Spirit. It’s humbling. Who am I to call God down onto this altar? In seminary, we prayed with Maronite brothers, and their gesture was to join thumbs and flutter their hands like a dove descending. It looks a bit like a shadow puppet, but it reminds me—this is the Holy Spirit. It’s one of the most moving moments of the liturgy for me.
Catholic Life: To which saint(s) do you have a particular devotion?
Father Hennes: St. Anthony of Padua has always been close to me. He is the patron saint of lost things—and I felt like a lost thing in college.
Apart from Our Lady, St. Thérèse of Lisieux holds a special place in my heart. On one of my marathon trips to Paris, I made a pilgrimage to Lisieux to visit her family’s home. The garden was full of rose bushes, each with signs in multiple languages: Please do not pick the flowers. I wanted one badly—but I respected the signs and let it go.
On my way out, I saw a gardener trimming the roses. A few small buds had fallen to the ground. In broken French, I asked if I might take one. She smiled and said, “St. Thérèse would not want you to have that. She would want you to have a much nicer one.” And then she clipped the finest rose from the bush and handed it to me.
I still have it, dried and saved. It’s one of my most prized possessions.
Toward Abundance
Catholic Life: When people walk away from your parish on Sunday, what do you hope lingers with them?
Father Hennes: I hope what lingers is an encounter with the Lord. Whether it came through a neighbor’s kindness, the Eucharist or the Word proclaimed, I want them to walk away knowing—not just thinking, but knowing—that God was present to them. That it wasn’t just another obligation checked off, or a Mass that ended five minutes early, or even that the donuts were especially good. Those things are fine. But what I pray they carry home is the quiet certainty that they had an encounter with God.
Catholic Life: Looking toward the future, what excites you about ministry right now?
Father Hennes: What excites me most right now is the opportunity for genuine collaboration in pastoral planning. It’s no longer about “my parish” or “your parish.” It’s about becoming, together, a more radiant witness of Christ’s light in the world. Yes, change brings uncertainty. But I see this season not as a threat but as an invitation. A moment of real growth.
We must keep reminding ourselves: the parish doesn’t belong to the pastor, or to any one family. It belongs to Christ. The fields are ripe for evangelization—and now is the time to step forward in faith.
When anxieties arise, I encourage people to pause, breathe, and remember who the Church truly belongs to. Not us. Not our preferences. But Christ. And our strength doesn’t come from clinging to the familiar—it comes from fidelity to the truth, together.
And I see hope all around. People are reaching out—calling, emailing, walking into OCIA sessions with deep hunger and curiosity. The Holy Spirit is clearly moving. “Rebuild My Church” isn’t about parochial pride—it’s about shared mission. It’s not, “What’s mine?” It’s, “How do we get to heaven—together?”
Catholic Life: And now, all these years later—after seminary, after assignments, after everything—how would you describe your vocation in a single sentence?
Father Hennes: To love and serve the Lord.
Catholic Life: Before we close, is there anything else on your heart that you’d like to share?Father Hennes: Just this: when we talk about vocations, we often focus on the man’s “yes”—and rightly so. But the priesthood isn’t just about an individual’s response. It’s also the Church’s yes. The Church discerns with us. She listens, tests, affirms, and welcomes. I’m deeply grateful for her yes—for entrusting me with this vocation. It’s been over 13 years now, and I hope,
God willing, for many more.