To Be, Or Not To Be: A Seminarian

It’s been a while since I have posted. My sincerest apologies, but there is alot to catch everyone up on. As I write this post, I am now just 13 days away from Diaconate Ordination which will take place on December 8. Bishop Nicholas DiMarzio will ordain 5 of us as deacons, 3 Rockville Centre men and 2 of us from Brooklyn.

This past week, we were on our cannonical diaconate retreat which was held at St. Ignatius Retreat House in Manhasset New York. It was directed by Msgr. Fernando Ferraresse, pastor of Immaculate Conception Parish in Astoria, NY. His confrences was based on St. John’s Gospel with the title of Jesus as Lord and Master. It was a great time of rest and reflection. Each evening Msgr. showed us movies that reflected the theme of priesthood. They all seemed great, but my favorite was True Confessions with Robert Duvall and Robert DeNiro.

All in all, as I make my final preparations for diaconate ordiantion I ask for your prayers, that I may continue to follow the Lord where he calls me.

     Each year that I’ve been in Rome, we have had to let our classmates and professors know that we will not be in class on the last Thursday in November because it is a national day of Thanksgiving. The rector of our college even sends a letter to the different universities excusing us from classes on that day. It has always surprised me, however, that when we mention Thanksgiving Day the immediate response is, “Oh…si, il Tacchino.” (the italian word for turkey). However, this year one student stopped and instead of this normal response highlighting our dinner’s main course said to me, “You know that is a great thing, to spend one day as a country to thank God.” I confess that this made me pause and appreciate once again what Thanksgiving is truly about, and how great an act of witness it remains.
     For us as Catholics, however, thanksgiving is not a rare occurrence; in fact, it is the very meaning of Eucharist. To be a “Eucharistic people” means that at the center of our lives is a deep and abiding gratitude for all the abundant blessings our Lord has bestowed upon us, not the least of which is our faith and our vocation. I cannot help but think of the words the bishop speaks to the ordinandi when he hands on the chalice and paten, “imitate what you celebrate.” If as future priests we will one day celebrate the Eucharist, it must also mean that we will embody in our own lives a true and sincere gratitude, as thanksgiving in reality is at the heart of the mystery and of our faith itself.  I think my classmate said it correctly, what a great thing it really is.   Happy Thanksgiving to all!

Some time ago one of my fellow seminarians came to me. He needed me to help him with a presentation he had due the next day. Unfortunately for him, the day he asked me was a Sunday. Most of my friends know that I don’t like to work on Sunday. In my book, it’s a day separated specifically for the enjoyment of God, family, friends, deep prayer and other wholesome pleasures (like the Louis DeWohl novel I’ve been trying to finish for the last month).

But work? Not on Sunday. Sure, I recognize that some should work on Sundays: firefighters, police officers, health care workers (such as my mother) and the like. There are also those people who have to work because corrupt aspects of our present economic system don’t allow them to earn a living wage and work only six days a week. But these are exceptions. They fall under the the category of the issues Christ meant when He said “Who among you, if your son or ox falls into a cistern, would not immediately pull him out on the sabbath day?” (Lk 14:5).

But for the harried brother seminarian who darkened my doorway one Sunday afternoon, I held little sympathy. Knowing his personality, I figured that he had likely squandered the time needed for research and preparation on extensive naps and you-tube videos. But when it deemed him expedient, he came running to my door hoping I had spare oil for his dying lamp (Mt 25:1-13).

My response was even more harsh than the ten wise virgins: “I’ll help you tomorrow morning. If you want to get this project done, come to my room at 7.”

Here at the seminary, we usually have morning prayer at 7:30. But for that auspicious Monday, we were allowed extra time; morning prayer would be at 9:00.

Crushed by my (characteristic) insensitivity, with wild fear in his eyes, my brother responded, “7 a.m. I can’t do that.”

Sanctifying grace kept me from laughing in his face. But he could read my smile.

“I wake up at 6:50 everyday. It’s not fair. I can’t get up at 7 on our day off.”

“Why not go to sleep earlier. If you want to get it done…” I responded

“I can’t do that,” he protested. “It’s not right.”

“If you want to get…” I began again.

“Fine!” he growled, taking back the assignment sheet I held. He turned, heading back to his room.  “7 a.m.?” he continued mumbling. “I can’t. I can’t”

I knew what you’re thinking: and yes I can be quite sadistic. But in this case, I think my love for my brother and for what our rector, Msgr. Peter Vaccari, (among others) calls “an asceticism of time” compelled me to dispense tough love.

Consider what aspects of our lives need tough love. How has the Lord asked me to wake up and yet I hit snooze? Ususally when we hit snooze we have in our minds the proper wake time. When is the latest that I will arise to the duty at hand? After college? After working in the world for a few years? What about now?  I ask you, the reader, the question as much as I ask myself. What about now?

I’ll write more on this tomorrow. Now, however, it’s time to sleep.

I spend most of my weekends in the seminary –even though we’re given a break from Friday afternoon into Saturday. Over the weekend, several groups come in to conduct retreats and seminars. Sometime ago I had an experience that reminded of a scene in the Gospel. The scene is the calling of Nathanael in John 1:43-51. To understand my message, read the passage and then come back to the blog.

Done? Good. So here’s the story. I was working out in the seminary gym, blasting on the stereo, late one Saturday night. I decided to grab some water. As I walked out, I slammed the door into the face of some kid who was standing on the other side. He was about 19.
He apologized and explained that he was on retreat with his university. When he heard loud music coming from the other side of the door, he thought there a party. It was probably just as he pressed his ear against the door that I ran into him. [That's how God works these "coincidences", you know.]

We began talking about his retreat. At one point he remarked “You guys have a gym, too? This place [the seminary] is huge. You guys have it made.”

“Well,” I said, “prayer and study aren’t very active. So we need to work off extra energy while we’re here. It’s not just a frat house.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said. “I thought about being a priest or a brother but I think I should be a deacon…” [and then came my favorite line] “…after I get married.”

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Side note: I’m in no position to question his motives. From my experience, however, every time I’ve asked a young man who has expressed a desire to become a deacon, why he would like to do so, I’ve received the invariable answer “because I can preach and get married.” Every single time, without exception. I decided to give this kid the small benefit of the doubt and not ask him. I’ll write more at another time on the spirituality of the diaconate.

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So I asked: “Okay, I figure you’re about 18 or 19 years-old, right?”

“Yeah”

“Well, I think most dioceses want a candidate for diaconate to be at least 35 years-old. So you’ve got a good 17 years to pray and think about it.”

Catching on to my drift, he chimed in “you know, I’m not against the priesthood. I know we need priests and all that. But I just feel…” He trailed off.

“I hear you”, I said. Then, echoing St. JoseMaria Escriva, I said “in fact, I hope you have a holy, beautiful, and amazing wife…if that’s what God wants from you. Or, if He wills it, you could…”

“be a priest,” he finished my words.

We talked to some degree more. I told him about a few deacons I know who’ve discerned that they are not called to be married and yet not called to be priests. The Lord wants them to be single, celibate deacons, working in the world and for the Church. That amazed him.

“They might as well become priests,” he said.

“Only if it’s what God wants,” I responded. And I meant it.  He was pensive.

“Listen,  just as long as you try to be a holy as you possibly can and remain open to whatever Jesus wants, that’s all that really matters. Our Lord will show you.” I think he was heartened that I didn’t conscript him into the seminary.

We parted on the agreement to pray for each other.

Now I feel our Lord speaking to my heart close to what He had said to Natahanael, “here is a true Israelite.” “Yes, my Lord. But how long do you think he’ll stay sitting under that fig tree,” I wonder. “Not very long,” Jesus seems to say. “He’s already dusting off his pants and putting on his sandals. I’ll call him soon enough.”

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In my mind, I can imagine Nathanael knew Jesus was in town. Unlike Zacchaeus in Luke 19:1-10 or the two blind men in Matthew 20:30-34, this kid knows exactly where Jesus is walking. He can see Jesus in the distance, crossing the horizon. He can see Jesus and wants to walk over. Maybe Nathanael, too, was looking for holiness. Maybe he, too, was considering an easy way out. Something holds him back. The unknown. For this reason, when our Lord greets him and accepts his trust (at the prompting of a good friend), the perceptive Lord satisfies some of the young man’s worries.

“‘Do you believe because I told you that I saw you under the fig tree? You will see greater things than this.’ And he said to him, ‘Amen, amen, I say to you, you will see the sky opened and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man.’”

And suddenly the unknown is a bit clearer. The message is still cryptic. But there’s solace in knowing that we are following a Man who will eventually disclose the right answers. But one must first be open, stand up, and ask “can anything good come of the priesthood?” Or the diaconate, or the married life, or the religious life, for that matter. For all vocations belong to the Lord and must be asked of Him.

Behold, the Lord will make things clearer for you. Keep your eyes on Him, don’t lag too far behind the crowd of disciples, and pray with every step.

What more can I say but: Come and see.

Last night we had a great time here at the college celebrating our Halloween/Oktoberfest Party.  During the course of the year each class sponsors a house-wide celebration, and it is always amazing to see a class come together, show their many talents, and having a great time.  As polka music was being played, student made German cuisine being served, and a general loud laughter shared by all, I could not help but think of how important fraternity is in our lives as seminarians and future priests.   Many have a concept of the priest as living a “solitary life,” and while certainly there are moments of solitude (which can often be great moments of prayer and reflection), the life of a priest and seminarian is far from solitary.  Relationships are central in the lives of priests, especially those relationships with family and friends.   However, in a special way there is something special and important about the friendships priests and seminarians share with each other.

Much is shared among priests and seminarians: a common experience of formation, of ministry and apostolic life, and also of similar challenges being faced in where they are serving.  In some ways, one can see such friendships among members of the presbyteral college modeled in the Apostolic college gathered around the Lord.  With at least two sets of brothers (Peter and Andrew and James and John) and the others coming from different walks of life, I imagine that there was certainly a fraternity and friendship shared by the 12.  They shared a particular experience of being called and sent out by the Lord, of suffering at his death and of experiencing the joy of the resurrection.  They were 12 men gathered together by the Lord, and in him they found the source of their unity and fraternity.  Friendships among priests likewise are supports and sources of great joy, whose origin and unity is found in the Lord who has called us to serve Him.  It was hard not to hear the words of scripture ring true last night, “How good and pleasant it is when brothers live in unity” (Ps.133:1). 

Diocesan Trip to Rieti/Greccio 2008-2009

I remember the gross large-scale model of the human ear in science lab. I remember my teacher explained that my ears were responsible for balance. And I couldn’t believe that such small organs could keeps such a [heavy] kid walking or riding a bike straight. If it wasn’t proven to me, I might not trust an organ so meek to keep me from crashing. And yet all throughout my vocation I’ve needed the meek virtue of honesty with the Lord to keep me balanced.

By honesty I mean that the strength of my vocation required my complete self-disclosure with Jesus. One must pray fervently about the wants which excite him,  the desires which animate him,  dark corners of his life which he may not want to expose to light, and the fears which paralyze him. These latter two are those which people find especially difficult to express honestly –even to God. [Pssst...here's a help: he already knows.]

When I began discerning, I had all the Hallmark-card prayers beautifully wrapped in rose gift-tissue: Oh dear Lord, I desire whatever You desire. Show me Your will. If You want me to be a priest, let it be done! I didn’t pray them irreverently. I meant what I said. But I didn’t say all that I meant.I didn’t admit to our Lord that the priesthood scared me.

I wanted to say: Listen Lord, You really don’t want me as a priest. Have you spoken to my confessor lately? Last week, alone, was probably enough to keep me off the vocations list for good. Who am I to tell people what’s right and what’s wrong? So just find someone else, please.

I wanted to say: Don’t you read the news, Lord? The priesthood isn’t exactly popular. What would I do if some smart-mouth patron made fun of me in a restaurant? What would I do if I was accused of pocketing the second collection? Or worse?

I wanted to say: Thy will be done, Lord. And make sure Your will is that I marry the beautiful girl who sits in front of me in Chemistry class, buy a moderate sports car, a private home in Queens, another in Florida (for vacations), have 8 successful kids and a comfortable retirement.

What I realize now, though, is that those prayers needed to be voiced in honesty. This blog is geared for priestly vocations but the same rule applies here as for any prospective vocation. If you think God wants you to be married, express to Him your worries: what if your child is born with a terribly disease? If you have the inclination that He wants you to be a nun: what will you do if after three years in the monastery, you realize that it isn’t God’s call? Admit that you’ve had these fears. Tell Him.

But the follow up is crucial. After such prayers, leave room for God to speak. Make your case and then wait. Be silent. Be still. He probably won’t answer in a flash of blazing light. But if one speaks to Him often, laying all the cards on the table each time, you may get the sense that I did when I was finally honest.

My Father sat me down and spoke to my heart: You may fall. And you really haven’t done so well up to this point. I know you’d rather be doing something else. But I need you to trust Me; you can do this. But only if you trust Me.

And as you swing your legs over the seat and boldly make your first furtive pushes at the pedals of your vocation, you’ll find that Honesty as a dialogue, as a balance the Lord adjusts from within you, will maintain your poise and steer you around all obstacles.

Honesty is not merely telling the truth. It is waiting for the Truth to speak to you.

This year, my pastoral assignment continues from last year to be Service to the Poor. The reason is because I have done catechetical ministry for three years at various parish in the Diocese of Brooklyn. So the seminary and I decided to continue my assignment at A Simple House. A Simple House is a direct outreach ministry to the poor in Southeast Washington. The ministry helps the poor with scripture studies, home visits, and delivering donated goods, such as groceries and clothing.

Two weeks ago I had a wonderful experience during a home visit. My superior and I visited a family that did not have any furniture, and we just told the family that someone donated a lovely couch and dinner room set to A Simple House. The mother was so excited. She thanked the Lord for this blessing. She even hugged and kissed us both.

This past week we visited family, and I had the opportunity to read a children’s book to the children who just returned home from school. I grew up as an only child, and I never did that before. So, reading a children book to someone was new to me. As I read the book to the kids, I understand the Gospel where Jesus says, “Let the children come to me and do not prevent them; for the Kingdom of God belongs to such as these” (Luke 18:16). After I read the book, the youngest girl wanted me to read another, and so I did. It was awesome.

This week I have a paper due on Thursday about the First Crusade for Medieval History, and a Latin exam on Friday. Please keep me in your prayers. You all are always in mine.

-Christian Rada

Five banners are waving right now from the balcony of St. Peter’s Basilica. Illuminated at night and waving during the day these five banners bear the images of the Church’s five new saints. Canonized yesterday, they include two prominent figures for the Church in the U.S., as St. Jeanne Jugan is the foundress of the Little Sisters of the Poor who do so much good work throughout the country and also St. Damien of Molokai the Belgian missionary to the lepers of Kalaupapa.

Here at the college we have the privilege this afternoon of venerating the relics of St. Damien brought here by the Diocese of Honolulu. It appears to me to be fitting that the Church has canonized such a holy and selfless priest in this Year for Priests. His heroic life is a testament to the selflessness and pastoral charity that each priest is called to manifest in the service of God’s people. He serves as a great example for all of us in formation for the priesthood and challenges me as I come closer to priestly ordination. As we pray in the preface of Holy Men and Women, “[Lord] You renew the Church in every age by raising up men and women outstanding in holiness…” Outstanding examples of holiness…five of them displayed this week for the world to see.

St. Zygmunt Szczęsny Feliński
St. Francisco Coll y Guitart
St. Damien Joseph de Veuster
St. Rafael (Arnáiz Barón)
St. Marie de la Croix (Jeanne Jugan)

PRAY FOR US!

I am writing today having just returned from a great five day silent retreat with my classmates, many of whom will be ordained this Thursday to the diaconate. Silence can be a very powerful aid to prayer, especially when you are in a retreat setting because it opens your senses up to everything going on around you and allows you to more acutely hear the Lord’s voice speaking to your heart. This is done through contemplation, reflection and lectio divina on the scriptures and even sometimes in other reading and other activities you find yourself doing. Another aid to prayer in these times is also journaling. It would be an aid to any type of vocational discernment as well. To sit and write down your thoughts, memories, and even the events of the day all help you to organize your thoughts and sometimes even allow you to notice the workings of God’s Providence in your life.

“That they may know my joy…” These words from John’s Gospel literally popped out at me and became a great source of great reflection about the life of the priest this past week. So much sorrow and tragedy is present in our world, and yet in the midst of everything we are called to stand and be ministers of God’s presence and at times remind people of the joy of Christian living. We have much to share, and in preaching the Good News inevitably part of what we share is the hope and joy that comes from knowing Christ has conquered death, evil, darkness and has called us to share in his victory.

So as we get ready to witness the ordination of 30 new deacons here in Rome, as we embark on another academic year, and as we enjoy another Sunday to praise and worship our God, let us never forget as St. Peter reminds us in his epistle “that there is cause for rejoicing here…(1Pt 1:3)”

My name is Evans Julce. I’m a bit late to post an introduction(which, I’m sure, isn’t a surprise to anyone who knows me). I’ve just started my first year of theology at the Seminary of the Immaculate Conception in Huntington, L.I. While Mr. Cox  and the Rev. Mr. Bruno are on their way out of the priestly formation pool, I’m just getting my feet wet.

I attended university at Hofstra in Hempstead, L.I. and studied Film Theory, Literature, and Philosphy. From there I entered the Cathedral Seminary Residence in Douglaston, Queens where I studied more philosophy and languages for two years. I enjoy films, reading, long walks on the beach, and writing profiles of myself on blogs. More info in the days to come. Pax Vobiscum.

[N.B. All the cool kids in the theologate end their missives in Latin.]