“One of the tricky things for foreigners trying to learn Vietnamese is learning how to address people,” Nguyen told The Catholic Register a couple days before his ordination. “When I address you I don’t just say ‘You.’ I say ‘My brother’ or ‘My uncle.’ We address the person in relationship with ourselves.”

When Nguyen was first ordained a priest he had to adjust to parishioners old enough to be his grandmother saying to him in Vietnamese “My Father” and referring to themselves as “Your Daughter.”

“It was very moving, and also very humbling, to have an old, old lady address me as ‘Father’ and address herself as ‘Your

Daughter,’ ” he said.

Though he is Canada’s youngest bishop, and the third youngest in North America, Toronto’s Vietnamese community already respects and admires Nguyen as a kind of ideal elder brother, said St. Rose of Lima parish priest Fr. Joseph Pham.

“I have to admire him,” said Pham. “He has a lot of common sense. He deals with people in a very common sense way.”

Pham is not alone in his admiration. He was in charge of organizing a Vietnamese community reception for the new bishop in Scarborough Jan. 16. Pham’s problem is that the biggest Asian restaurant he could find only seats 600, but he could easily have sold 1,000 tickets or more.

“All the people here, they are very excited and they all want to go,” he said.

Admiration for Nguyen is not a Vietnamese thing, and nobody should imagine Nguyen will be just the immigrant, Asian bishop, said Fr. Pat O’Dea. O’Dea’s own admiration for Nguyen has grown since, as Toronto’s vocation director in 1992, he invited him to spend a year of discernment living at Serra House. O’Dea’s initial worry that Nguyen might be too shy or introspective for leadership was reversed early.

“By no means is he passive. He’s extremely gifted and extremely smart. I’ve seen him lead communities in prayer. I’ve seen him preach,” said O’Dea, one of two chaplains who vested Nguyen during the rite of ordination. “(He has) that quiet leadership, gentle leadership, but there’s a firmness there and a resolve. That’s what got him out of Vietnam.”

As a young teen Nguyen had already set his heart on the priesthood, imagining life as a missionary in Africa or elsewhere. Within his family the tale of his great-great grandfather lived on — how in the 1840s the man was tied to a post in the bay and asked to recant his religion as the tide came in. Eventually he drowned confessing his faith, becoming one of more than 130,000 Vietnamese Martyrs, 117 of whom were canonized in 1988.

Nguyen assumed the role of leader when he ventured into the same sea that took his great-great grandfather. At 16 Nguyen was around during construction of a fishing boat that would a year later take 20 Vietnamese boat people on a perilous journey headed towards Indonesia.

When storms blew in, threatening to swamp the little boat, Nguyen was asked to take the helm. He knew the boat better than any of his shipmates.

“When the big storm came the others couldn’t navigate the boat, so I was told to take control,” said Nguyen. “I just tried to do my best, trying to keep the boat afloat, steering it away from these big waves. I knew how the boat reacted at certain points, so I knew at which point to steer the boat directly into the waves.”

Nineteen of the 20 boat people were Catholics, and when a Japanese freighter eventually rescued them it was time to sing a hymn of thanksgiving and praise.

“Certainly the hymn was really meaningful to all of us,” said Nguyen.

In Toronto after a year in a refugee camp, Nguyen was introduced to his spiritual father, Fr. Peter Pham. Nguyen lived with Pham, the first Vietnamese priest to come to Toronto in 1980, for five years as he finished high school and made his way through studies in electrical engineering at the University of Toronto. The old priest and the young candidate prayed the rosary and the Divine Office together every day and Nguyen took over cooking duties in the rectory.

Pham recalls a young man who immediately emerged as a leader, taking over as choir master in the parish.

Pham always knew he had been lucky to know Nguyen. When he heard that his one-time protege was to be made a bishop it confirmed Pham’s instincts.

“That’s an amazing grace,” said Pham. “When I heard that news I felt so overwhelmed by the grace of God.”

For Nguyen this next chapter is all about grace and salvation.

“My great-great grandfather was martyred. He never came out of the sea,” said Nguyen. “For me, being rescued, I’ve kind of been drowned in the grace of God, in His plan. I’m drowning in His plan for me.”

 As a canon lawyer (he was awarded a licentiate in canon law by the Angelicum University in Rome in 1998) he is very fond of the very last line of the 1983 Code of Canon Law: “always observing canonical equity and keeping in mind the salvation of souls, which in the church must always be the supreme law.”

“That’s all the pastors of the church have to keep in mind,” he said. “It’s not something imposed on us or forbidding us. It’s more than just rules and regulations. It’s about salvation of souls.”

On retreat just after accepting the Pope’s invitation to become a bishop, Nguyen’s retreat master told him he will have to stop trying to impose his will and start trusting in God.

“It’s very comforting, but it’s easier said than done. We can think about it, but to really take it home is hard.”

For now, Nguyen can hardly wait to get out there among the people.

“I look forward to being out there with the people and administering the sacraments for them,” he said. “One of the sacraments I will do a lot is Confirmation, and it’s exciting to meet these young people as they commit themselves to the faith, confirming and affirming their faith.”