I am Fr. Diego José Lobo Mendoza and I am from Tovar, Mérida state, Venezuela. I was born on March 17, 1995, and I was baptized on April 20, 1996, in San Juan Bautista de Mérida. In my family, there were 6 of us: my dad, my mom, my older brother, and my maternal grandparents.
As a child, I was like any other kid: normal, mischievous, and sometimes badly behaved, but also affectionate and playful. One moment of what I call my calling—and I believe it is one of my earliest memories—is when I was about 6 or 7 years old. We went to a Mass, and for some reason, we went to greet the priest. He was taking off his vestments, and that caught my attention because he looked like a magician with his robes. I told myself that when I grew up, I wanted to be a priest because I wanted to dress like him.
I did my first years of catechism and was preparing for my First Communion. During that time, we performed religious plays with other children from catechism and sang in a choir that some nuns had made with the children of the parish. We represented the Sunday Gospel or some Bible passage, and I remember that one of the roles I played was Samuel, in the calling passage. Receiving that call from God in the play left a mark on me because I already felt something from those early years.
After receiving my First Communion, a date I remember with great affection because I started to get closer to Jesus, I would sometimes find any excuse to go to Mass and receive Him, and I always made sure to go to Confession on the first Fridays of the month. I began to serve as an altar boy at the parish where Fr. Railí was, and I later asked him to be my confirmation sponsor, inspired by his example of being a dedicated priest, someone who cared for his people. Since I was 6 years old, I wanted to be a priest, and my thought at that moment was: “If I want to be a priest, I suppose I start here, being an altar boy.”
At school, I behaved like everyone else; I didn’t stand out for being good or bad. I was restless and greeted everyone. I had good classmates with whom we played, and sometimes we fought with the kids from the next classroom over trivial things, but we later made peace. In the afternoons, I had music and painting classes, and I learned something, although sometimes I got bored, but at least I was occupied.
When I started serving as an altar boy, those afternoon classes began to decrease because I went to church more often. I went on Thursdays for a time of adoration with the Blessed Sacrament, and on Fridays, it was my turn to serve as an altar boy at the parish Mass. I liked going because there were few of us helping that day, and I had more responsibilities during the Mass. After Mass, we had a meeting for altar servers, where the parish priest gave us some formation, taught us how to serve at the altar, and we prepared for Sunday’s Mass.
Saturdays were for catechism, and in the afternoons, I helped if there was a baptism, because the parish priest would give us an ice cream and a soda if we helped him. Sundays were for going to Mass, helping at the altar, and then returning home to rest, do homework, and sleep to start a new week.
I was in 5th grade, and my family already allowed me to go alone to some places, especially to church or art classes. I felt like a grown-up kid, and I had the example of my brother, who already went alone and even bought some things. So I had my family’s confidence to serve as an altar boy. It was during this catechism time that my family grew closer to the Church. My brother and I were in catechism, and everyone took advantage of the opportunity to go to Mass and confess. I grew up in that environment of practicing faith.
More or less, when I made my First Communion, I told my parents I wanted to be a priest. They looked at me and said it was fine, but they would see where I could enter, which seminary I could go to. I was in primary school, so they told me there was still time. They supported my dream. I heard about the seminary in San Cristóbal, in another state, which accepted students from the first year of secondary school, while my diocese’s seminary accepted students from the third year. An aunt told them she knew a seminary in Barquisimeto, where a friend of hers, a Legionary of Christ, was.
At that time, the Legionaries came to my town and invited my brother and me to join the apostolic. I couldn’t enter yet because I hadn’t finished primary school. They arrived in my town for the first time, and the parish priest told them to speak on the radio and announce what they were going to do and where they would be. My grandmother heard this and told my dad.
My dad went to my school and my brother’s secondary school to ask how we were doing and to check our grades. When he was leaving my school, he saw the Legionaries entering, greeted them, and asked, “Are you the priests I’ve been looking for?” That’s how my path to the apostolic began. My dad told them I was an altar boy, and they already had a talk scheduled with altar boys that evening.
The priests arrived at the meeting, gave a talk about the apostolic, showed photos, and my dad took my brother so he could also get to know it. They separated some children, including my brother, and invited me too, even though they knew I was too young. They invited us to a gathering, which we attended. My brother decided to enter the apostolic, and I visited him from time to time because the apostolic was far from us (my brother finished the apostolic, did a year of novitiate, and after discernment, realized that God was not calling him through that path). Later, I was invited to a gathering as well. I entered the apostolic on July 16, 2007, the feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel. God’s plan was that after my first year in the apostolic, we would move to Mérida, just an hour from my home.
I was part of the foundation of that apostolic community. There was nothing there—only a building under construction, without windows or doors—and about 100 enthusiastic apostolics who wanted the community to be their home. We rolled up our sleeves to work on the gardens while the buildings were finished. During that first year in the new house, we slept in a retreat house that was lent to us until the dormitories were ready. In that house, we had Mass and afternoon activities; the rest of the time, we were in the new community, attending classes, eating, studying, playing, working in the gardens or organizing things. We returned to the retreat house to shower, pray the rosary, have dinner, and sleep.
What captivated me about being a Legionary and what drew me into the spirituality was the great charity among the seminarians. I saw that everyone cared for everyone: in play, at the table, in conversations—all very kind and respectful. And above all, that missionary spirit, so strong that I imagined myself going into the jungle to evangelize and having great adventures as a missionary. That idea has always accompanied me in my life as a Legionary, and I have lived every mission with that missionary spirit.
I finished my high school in the apostolic, did my candidacy, and then my novitiate in San Antonio de los Altos, Miranda, at the Santa María de los Altos center. It was two years (2012–2014) full of joy. My first year was all new to me, and I experienced it intensely. The second year was a bit more challenging because the instructor priest tested us in virtue and sought to make us good and holy religious. That becomes clear after the novitiate ends. Many friendships, many moments before Christ in the Eucharist, and with the Most Holy Virgin Mary helped me decide to always say yes to the Lord.
My mom told me, before I entered the novitiate, that whenever I felt lonely or sad during the novitiate, I should go to the Most Holy Virgin and stay with Her because She would be my mother from that moment on, and She would always be by my side. After the novitiate, I made my first vows. I was nervous but also very happy. I was giving myself completely to God, for life, and I have always lived that in my heart.
The year of studies in Classical Humanities (2014–2015) I did in Monterrey. A year full of studies because the schedule was intense, but I sought times to be with God. I studied Philosophy in Rome, for three years (2015–2018). Years of learning from Rome, everything new, and living with my brothers. Then I did three years of apostolic practice in Monterrey, Mexico (2018–2021); at Kilimanjaro School, as a formation instructor and ECYD assistant. Those were years of growth, maturity, and amid a pandemic, years of rediscovering community life, seeing all the good that God does through us, how many people I could help, accompany, and how many people love me. God does not let Himself be outdone in generosity.
I returned to Rome to study theology, for three years (2021–2024). Very beautiful and challenging years, as discernment is more intense but filled with joy. It is “concluded” or “confirmed” by the perpetual profession of vows I made on August 22, 2023. Besides this gift from God, I also approached the altar of the Lord and received the ministries of lector and acolyte.
The gift of God, the diaconate, I received on September 14, 2024, a grace because my family was present, in my homeland, with people who saw my vocation born and who began this path with God. Now, I have been entrusted with the mission of being a novice master’s assistant at the novitiate in Monterrey, Mexico. It is a great responsibility because I am forming the Legionaries of tomorrow, those men who will carry the Legion of Christ, and I want them to fall in love with Christ, the Church, and the Legion of Christ. These men must be saints—not just good, but holy religious and priests of the Legion.
I thank God, paraphrasing St. Clare of Assisi, for creating me, for loving me, and for calling me to the Legion of Christ. I also ask Him and the Most Holy Virgin Mary to accompany me in this ministry that begins. Amen.
