When you think about the permanent diaconate, it’s easy to picture a successful, middle–aged man devoted to his wife and grown children, answering God’s call to find new purpose later in life.

That isn’t Zak Santiago.

The newly ordained deacon’s professional bio says it all. Santiago is a “modern day renaissance man, a Golden Gloves–winning boxer, popular nightclub and radio D.J., a classically trained musician, a flamenco and ballet dancer, a stuntman — and a talented actor.”

But that isn’t the whole story. Whether as a television actor or DJing in Dubai, God has always been a source of comfort and connection for Santiago. “My faith always found me a home,” he says. No matter what, “I was always in a Catholic church.”

As one of six children born to immigrant parents, Santiago travelled across Canada as a child, following his father’s work for the federal government. Because of this, community and belonging are dear to him.

From a young age, his devout mother instilled in him that “God’s message of the kingdom is that we are all children of God. My faith flourished on the idea of being a child of God.” She is also the source of his artistic ambitions. “I was in ballet and played classical piano,” he says. But most notably, his mother enrolled him in Ukrainian dance at the community center.

He says this was his first taste of real belonging. Regardless of his ethnic background, the other dancers embraced him. “As a mixed–race kid, I struggled to fit in,” he says. The classes showed him what a real sense of welcome and belonging could be, and ever since, he has felt a connection between art and community.

Unfortunately, tragedy dogged his steps as a young man. He was a boxer, and in his own words, he learned to “throw hands” on the street. A few rough scraps and the deaths of some close friends, including the love of his life — a devout woman who always told him God had great plans for him — made him reconsider the road he was travelling.

Santiago has opened for some big acts, including Prince and Ludicrous. (Contributed photo)

A few options presented themselves, and he spent time discerning holy orders, but ultimately, he didn’t feel God’s call. Instead, he found an acting agent and devoted himself to studying the thespian arts.

His DJ career began much more serendipitously. One night, while working as a nightclub promoter, he looked at the opening musicians he had hired, and it occurred to him that maybe he could do better. He got a loan, bought some turntables, and discovered he was a natural.

It hasn’t always been easy to integrate his faith with his work. “I work in worlds [Hollywood and nightclubs] where God’s voice doesn’t always get to,” he admits. “In some of the places I live and work, God’s voice gets drowned out by a lot of nonsense.”

“It’s important to be a humble representative of Christ in those places,” he says. Still, it’s a tricky balance and often becomes something of a “professional martyrdom.”

“I have lost work for being an affirming Christian — you know, wearing a crucifix, reposting something Pope Francis has said.”. 

Santiago says integrating his faith into his work has been challenging, but he sometimes adds bits of praise music into his mix and often wears clothing with religious themes. (Contributed photo)

“I know it has cost me relationships in the film world — some of my friends think I am drinking the kool–aid” by being religious, he says. “You can see the lines being drawn.” 

Still, the call to witness is important to him, and when working as a DJ, he sometimes blends snippets of praise music into the mix and wears a lot of clothing with Christian messages. It’s often enough to start a conversation.

He is grateful for the other Catholics he has encountered while acting. Working with people like Mark Wahlberg or Harry Potter director Chris Columbus helps remind him that even in places with reputations for godlessness, Christian fellowship is still present.

His agent is also very proud of his upcoming ordination.

Surprisingly, Santiago says, “Hollywood spaces are more open to faith than nightclubs.” He believes actors are built differently. Because the work takes them away from home and family, they often have more time to talk, and Santiago says the work attracts unique people.

Actors have a unique job, he says. “If you are going sell something, even a child knows when something is fake — especially in dramatic moments.”

“It’s all about the word,” he said after quoting the opening to the Gospel of John. Much like a disciple, an actor needs to “bring the words to life” and connect with people.

“Acting can be dangerous and difficult,” says Santiago. “Those are real tears — your whole goal and training is to make that real.” Some actors get lost in the role (Heath Ledger’s death after playing the role of The Joker in The Dark Knight comes to mind) but it also opens the door for deep and spiritual experiences.

Regardless of rejection, he doesn’t shy away from speaking about his faith and regularly invites friends to Mass. Sometimes, they say no, but when they say yes, Santiago says the experience leaves an impression.

When Santiago eventually decided to discern becoming a deacon, he threw himself into the process with all the abandon of an actor preparing for a big role. Even before committing to the diaconate, he received a master’s degree in theological studies from St. Mark’s College at the University of British Columbia and is currently completing a master’s in pastoral studies. He works as a pastoral care worker at Vancouver General Hospital and has been active in the archdiocese’s prison ministry for many years.

While it is not unusual for a man in his 40s to consider a vocation as a deacon, they are usually married with a family. Santiago is not, and this made discernment more complicated.

Initially, when the Archdiocese opened its permanent diaconate program in 2011, he passed because it would require that he stay single. “I have nieces, nephews and godchildren — I like children, and I didn’t know if God wanted me to get married,” he said. The choice to remain unmarried was never intentional, but after losing his betrothed as a young man, he was never engaged again.

Deacon Zak Santiago and Deacon Andre Coronado after their ordinations on June 1. (Photo Victor Das, St. Mark’s College) 

“After she was killed, I was never engaged,” he says. “I would talk to girls and date. I have had amazing girlfriends, always in a respectful way, with the opportunity to marry — but it was never out of pressure or need — only love.”

As he’s gotten older, his perspective has continued to evolve.

“I find Christ in all the people I work with — in the hospitals, in the prisons, in the clubs, on set — and in my family and friends; there is abundance. I am not solely looking for one single person to share my love.”

“I never feel alone,” he says. “I just trust God so much — I am just so sure of his love. I never need someone there. And I am never lacking for where to put my love — because I have him and his children.”

Santiago is most looking forward to preaching and continuing in the various ministries he is already committed to. Maybe he will get a PhD, he said, but ultimately, he is like all his brother deacons, who, when asked what they want to do after ordination, happily respond they will follow their bishop and the desires of the Holy Spirit.