The archdiocesan seminary that I entered after graduating from college had rules and regulations—and following them was often extolled as following the will of God.
Take the daily schedule: Allegedly God wanted me awakened at 5:30, washed, dressed, and in my place in the prayer hall at 6:00 for morning prayers and meditation, and then to Mass, breakfast, and a brief outdoor (whether fall, winter, or spring) free period before classes began.
And so the whole scheduled day until lights out at 10:00. A very military schedule! The will of a very military God?
Academically we were in graduate school. As clergy, we were in basic training, and, in my case, it continued for five years!
Did God personally want all this detailed control of my life? Probably not as such—but I was being taught to submit to authority, to subordinate my will to another’s, and, ultimately, to seek and obey the will of God.
What did we study? Thomistic Philosophy, Scripture, Theology, Church History, Canon Law, Liturgy, Homiletics, Gregorian Chant, and Spirituality.
How did we study? Most classes were lectures, to be listened to and rarely questioned or challenged; many textbooks were in Latin. Obedience and conformity were high values; originality and creative thinking were not especially encouraged.
I liked it!
But it could be very frustrating as well. I had a very dynamic, creative, challenging form of college education; the seminary formation was very different.
My metaphor for this difference was mining: college was a fantastically modern, up-to-date mining operation working a thin vein of gold, while seminary, by contrast, seemed like a little house sitting on a gold mountain with picks, shovels, and wheelbarrows for all who mined there!
But God was central to seminary life.
In the seminary, I felt like an ugly duckling—that is to say, I felt in many ways like an outsider. I didn’t come from a traditional, ethnic Irish or Italian Catholic family like most of the guys. I didn’t grow up thinking of becoming a priest or attending Catholic schools.
One think was clear to me. I was there because I felt God wanted me there. For better or for worse, this was what God wanted. I felt that if any day I woke up feeling that God wanted me elsewhere, I’d be gone immediately.
I felt the same way when the day for priestly ordination came. And, I have felt the same way all through my life as a priest. I lived each day because I believed God wanted it that way—if any day I felt God wanted something else, I would do it!
When I was ordained, I was sent for the summer to the parish in Monticello, New York. At the end of the summer, I was transferred up the road to the parish in Liberty.
I was pulled out the next spring to go to Ponce, Puerto Rico, for summer training in spoken Spanish and Puerto Rican culture. Unexpectedly towards the end of the summer, I was sent to a rural parish in central Mexico for a month.
Back home, I was assigned to an inner-city parish. Ascension, in the West Side of Manhattan. I had been there once the year before, visiting a priest friend, and had thought, I’d hate to be in a place like this!
Guess what! It was a wonderful experience, and I turned out to be very effective and innovative in Hispanic ministry.
Following orders led to many rewarding things and involved God after all!
25 January 2022