Seminary Stories

Breaktime

Busy semester. Classes are crazy. Time for a hiatus. I’ll be back once all the papers are done. Expect something fun in early July.

Overheard At St. Joseph

“God, come to my assistance”

“Wow, that’s a lot of lace. Did you get these vestments at La Senza?”

“I think I’ve put on some weight since I got here.”

“Floor Hockey tonight?”

“I’m so glad my bishop didn’t hear that I just said that.”

“No time? No sources? No problem!”

“And that right there is why you don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Guh, philosophers.”

“Lord, make haste to help me”

“Well in Romania…”

“Can someone explain the origins of monasticism?” “A bunch of guys running around in the desert doing stuff”

“This is a great prank idea!”

“Oh crap! It’s the rector!”

“Seminarians are under no circumstances allowed on the roof.”

“Man, you looked like hell during Morning Prayer today.”

“You’ll never believe where I found a scarecrow.”

“Glory to the Father, to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit.”

“You can’t write a paper that size in one night.” “Challenge accepted.”

“So, missed morning prayer again I see.”

“You know, outside of seminary that would just be downright weird”

“I could use a drink”

“Decisions have consequences. You can go on one date. It’s like punching the Rector. By the time you try for a second, you will no longer be a seminarian.”

“As it was in the beginning, is now, and will be forever, Amen.”

(with as much sarcasm as possible) “How very pastoral of you”

“That’s it. You’re getting sent to Mission”

“That’s a formation issue.”

“Alleluia”

Propaedeutic

Today’s message is brought to you by the word “Propaedeutic”. And what in purgatory does propaedeutic mean? Let’s find out!

In a general sense, propaedeutic means something similar to preparation. Something propaedeutic prepares you for learning. It’s a pre-study experience. In some fields a propaedeutic period is required, although they usually don’t call it that. Medicine, law, and education are all fields that generally require at least a prior year of university before entering. There needs to be a general academic competence before moving into more difficult fields.

Seminary has its own brand of propaedeutic instruction. The typical academic degree that one complete’s at St. Joseph Seminary is a Master of Divinity (M.Div). Yes, it is quite strange to claim that divinity is something you could ever be a master of but I’m not the guy who named the program. Most graduate degrees require an undergraduate degree first. In our case, the ideal undergraduate preparation for an M.Div is a B.A. with a major in philosophy. It frequently happens, as it did in my case, that someone arrives with a B.A. and majored in something other than philosophy. In these cases, a year is spent blitzing undergraduate philosophy to get them up to speed before sending them into theology. The summary of all this is that, in the mind of the Catholic Church, the preparatory learning needed to do theology is philosophy. Up until last year, St. Joseph Seminary ran with that as the main requirement.

A request to change this was made about 50 years ago and in its typically glacial pace, the propedeutic requirements are just now changing. It isn’t exactly a change so much as an expansion. The philosophy requirements are unaffected but some time ago, roughly coinciding with an ecumenical council, a call was made for priests to have additional spiritual formation. Particularly, the feeling was that young men entering seminary did not have the spiritual and devotional background that used to be assumed and they would need additional time and attention in formation to develop these. What this looks like at St. Joseph is a propaedeutic year. A full year set aside without classes so that seminarians can learn to pray, to fast, to find the value and comfort of solitude, and to develop the deep and close intimacy with God needed to shepherd the people of Christ.

I’ll be going on my propaedeutic year this fall. The final details haven’t been released but from the information that is out it looks like quite an intimidating year. One of the key practices will be a media fast. During the week there will be no tv, Internet, iPods, computers, cell phones, or any of the like. There will be time on weekends to reconnect with the world but we’ll be largely unplugged. Two of the other strongest themes are solitude and service with the poor. Every Friday will be a time of silence, fasting, and solitude for prayer. Every Thursday will be spend serving the poor and those in need.

I’m a little excited and a little fearful. The coming year won’t leave me the same.

Navigating

One of the unique charms of the prairies is that the people who settled here seemed to have a unique gift for ensuring that nothing was ever conveniently nearby. Once you leave a bastion of civilization like Moose Jaw for the wilds of small town Saskatchewan, you realize that goods and services are spread scattershot over the landscape. Do you need the RCMP? The station is in next town over. Hospital? Next town over, opposite direction. No matter what you’re looking for, there’s 10 miles of wheat fields between you and it.

A second important charm is the scenery. Saskatchewan scenery is something particular. After enough trips down the same empty roads looking into harvest after harvest swaying in the wind, you start to find the distinguishing landmarks that the gravel roads aren’t yielding to the uninitiated. Barns and garages are easy. A slough or a grain bin will become familiar after a few trips. Once you start recognizing fence posts you know you have been on the same uneventful drive a few too many times. If you start naming the fence posts, pull over. Wherever you are going, it isn’t worth it.

One of the perks of this back roads recognition system is that it makes gauging progress easy. Every unmarked intersection is an incremental step towards wherever you happen to be going. Each fence post forms part of the path and keeps you on track. It is effortless to know where you are, where you are going, and how long until you get there. The connection to land makes all of that intuitive.

Seminary life has a different style of fence post. Everything is on a cycle. The daily schedule for prayer repeats. The prayers themselves, the liturgy of the hours, are structured on a rotation and every four weeks we flip back to the beginning of the Psalter. The refectory keeps its menu on a four week rotation and the favourite meals show up at roughly the same time in roughly the same order. The class schedule repeats week to week. Even the liturgical calendar is drawn as a wheel. Rotation within rotation within rotation. The landmarks are there but they come around again and again without any distinguishing features. Every week one is vaguely familiar and I don’t know if I’m recalling the most recent one or this week from three rounds back. Was that conversation during a lunch of fish and chips one month ago or two? I’m adrift without a landmark to orient myself by. All of the little ways I used to gauge my progress aren’t visible in this new landscape.

It’s odd to be on a path with a clear start and a hazy finish. Discernment is unsettling that way. The goal is just over the horizon. Entering seminary is like setting sail with a destination out of sight from land. Being on the water is unfamiliar and indistinguishable, especially to a Saskatchewan boy. Just trust the navigator. Catch glimpses of the lighthouse where you can. Stay the course and you’ll set foot on your familiar shores.

Exult

There are times that the prayers of the Church are everything I could hope to say. The Exultet, the Easter Proclamation, is part of the beginning of the Easter Vigil. It’s our call to rejoice in the risen Christ. There is nothing I could add and nothing I could want to take away. Here’s how it goes:

Exult, let them exult, the hosts of heaven,
exult, let Angel ministers of God exult,
let the trumpet of salvation sound aloud our mighty King’s triumph!
Be glad, let earth be glad, as glory floods her,
ablaze with light from her eternal King,
let all corners of the earth be glad,
knowing an end to gloom and darkness.
Rejoice, let Mother Church also rejoice,
arrayed with the lighting of his glory,
let this holy building shake with joy,
filled with the mighty voices of the peoples.

Therefore, dearest friends,
standing in the awesome glory of this holy light,
invoke with me, I ask you, the mercy of God almighty,
that he who has been pleased to number me, though unworthy, among the Levites,
may pour into me his light unshadowed,
that I may sing this candle’s perfect praises.

V/: The Lord be with you.
R/: And with your spirit.
V/: Lift up your hearts.
R/: We lift them up to the Lord.
V/: Let us give thanks to the Lord our God.
R/: It is right and just

It is truly right and just,
with ardent love of mind and heart,
and with devoted service of our voice,
to acclaim our God invisible, the almighty Father,
and Jesus Christ, our Lord, his Son, his Only Begotten.
Who for our sake paid Adam’s debt to the eternal Father,
and pouring out his own dear Blood
wiped clean the record of our ancient sinfulness.
These then are the feasts of Passover,
in which is slain the Lamb, the one true Lamb,
whose Blood anoints the doorposts of believers.

This is the night, when once you led our forebears,
Israel’s children, from slavery in Egypt
and made them pass dry-shod through the Red Sea.
This is the night that with a pillar of fire banished the darkness of sin.
This is the night that even now, throughout the world,
sets Christian believers apart from worldly vices and from the gloom of sin,
lending them to grace, and joining them to his holy ones.
This is the night when Christ broke the prison-bars of death,
and rose victorious from the underworld.
Our birth would have been no gain, had we not been redeemed.

O wonder of your humble care for us!
O love, O charity beyond all telling,
to ransom a slave you gave away your Son!
O truly necessary sin of Adam, destroyed completely by the Death of Christ!
O happy fault that earned so great, so glorious a Redeemer!
O truly blessed night, worthy alone to know the time and hour
when Christ rose from the underworld!

This is the night of which it is written:
The night shall be as bright as day, dazzling is the night for me, and full of gladness.
The sanctifying power of this night dispels all wickedness,
washes faults away, restores innocence to the fallen, and joy to mourners,
drives out hatred, fosters concord, and brings down the mighty.
On this, your night of grace, O holy Father,
accept this candle, a solemn offering,
the work of bees and of your servants’ hands,
an evening sacrifice of praise, this gift from your most holy Church.

But now we know the praises of this pillar,
which glowing fire ignites for God’s honour,
a fire into many flames divided,
yet never dimmed by sharing of its light,
for it is fed by melting wax,
drawn out by mother bees to build a torch so precious.

O truly blessed night,
when things of heaven are wed to those of earth,
and divine to the human.
Therefore, O Lord, we pray you that this candle,
hallowed to the honour of your name,
may persevere undimmed,
to overcome the darkness of this night.
Receive it as a pleasing fragrance,
and let it mingle with the lights of heaven.

You are Morning Star that never sets
find this flame still burning:
replace Christ, you Morning Star,
who came back from the hell,
and shed his new light on all mankind,
your star, who lives and reigns for ever and ever. Amen

Parted

Good Friday. Sometimes things just come together.

Thursday was a long day and finished after midnight. It ended with the overpowering conclusion that I am a sinner. In the midst of everything else running through my mind, that resounding chord pierced everything. Only rarely do I approach the loving, forgiving God in total grief of my sin. When I do, it is to seek out the sacrament of reconciliation so that things will be put right. I hate my own sinfulness. I hate separation from God. When I am separated, I seek confession to mend the wound. Triduum, however, is entirely different. Instead of grieving a particular sin, I grieve sin itself. I’m not hobbled by a particular injury to my soul, I’m walking wounded with my rebellion against God and everything that has caused. Good Friday is a day to know the wounds sin, to see who died from my injuries, and to try to reconcile the injustice of what took place. My sin was about to wound another.

Friday started early with a journey to downtown Edmonton for a walk through the stations of the cross in the middle of the city. As a great example of the spirit being willing and the body being weak, I was underdressed for the weather and spent more time trying not to shiver than focusing on prayer. I returned to the seminary just in time to continue fasting through lunch. The schedule for the weekend had me as an altar server for the Good Friday liturgy. This is probably the only time in my life that I was hoping an alb would warm me up.

Still shivering, still hungry, and still overtired. I didn’t exactly have myself together when the liturgy began. As we told the story of what took place and began to mourn the death of Christ, my situation wasn’t particularly improving. The culmination of the Good Friday liturgy is the veneration of the cross. Everyone takes a turn to come before the cross and make an individual gesture of reverence, sorrow, and thanksgiving. Being an altar server, I was holding one of the candles beside the cross and was in a privileged position to see the community come one at a time to venerate. Being able to see my brother seminarians venerate reminded me more and more of my own connection to that cross and how my illness claimed the life of another. The injustice of what took place and of my own sins is staggering. The antiphon being sung captured, and amplified, my emotions completely.

“I parted the sea for you and you parted my side with a spear. My people, why have you done this to me?”

It broke me. There is always a limit and my physical, spiritual, and emotional disposition had brought me to mine.

Good Friday isn’t like any other day. There’s no easy way out. There’s no sacrament to wrap up the injuries and mend the wounds. You just have to wait it out. Death was about to be defeated.

Circuit

There’s an old tradition of traveling around to be present at adoration at seven different churches during the Holy Thursday reposition. Shortly after the liturgy, I set out with a carload to make our circuit. It was an adventure to rush to churches I had never entered before to look around trying to find the chapel of repose, which sometimes seemed unintentionally hidden. Every parish was different but they all contained the same Eucharist, the same body of our Lord.

While the Son of God present among us was the same, every parish provided it’s own frame within which to view it. Some had rambunctious children. Some had faithful and prayerful seniors. One had a priest and a few faithful singing in a language I couldn’t hope to decipher. (It was the Italian parish but it definitely wasn’t Italian.) The Spanish parish had music with a group leading worship and words on powerpoint. Others were quite, still, and contemplative. A few were nearly empty, others had plenty of fellow worshippers.

The people of God are the frame through which we see Christ. Everywhere we encounter him there are people at the periphery of his presence, faithful pilgrims walking the same path that we are. In so rich a Church, prayer is necessarily an act of community and communion. We draw near to Christ and find ourselves drawing near to those close to him.

Despite our efforts, time constraints kept us to only six. We had to get back to the seminary to wrap up for midnight. Between morning prayer and adoration to midnight, I was quite exhausted at the end. Part of the experience was the frequently interrupted prayer. Pray for a few minutes, jump back in the car and hit the road, and then repeat. Pray, drive, pray, drive. I’ve never experienced so frequent and fluid a transition between encountering Christ in conversation with brother seminarians and encountering Christ in reverence of the sacrament. I’m truly blessed to be in this community and that blessing was especially highlighted this Triduum.

As a whole, the parishes had more of the elderly than the young. I’m not surprised by this. It seems sometimes like the generation before me lost the memo and my own generation hasn’t yet been able to right the ship. It’s an understatement to say that I find this frustrating at times. I’m stuck wondering what went wrong and how to go about fixing it. It feels like, despite the richness of Catholic faith, it just doesn’t translate well from parent to child. Thursday was one of other first time I really brought those questions to prayer. I’m not sure why it took so long since Christ is place where the solution will be found.

Christ’s answer was painfully simple. Why do people have unfulfilled faith and leave the Church entirely? I’m a sinner and my sin ruins it for everyone. How do we get everyone back in the pews? I stop sinning and be holy.

Repeat the above a billion and change times over and you have the pictureframe that is the Church. We’re all sinners and our sin injures the world. We can, despite ourselves and through the gift of grace, be righteous and that righteousness has the ability to transform the world. We are pilgrims, wandering at times with little direction, ever aware that there is a horizon calling us.

As Holy Thursday concluded, however, I was left with one thought: I am a sinner.

Triduum

I’m probably due for an Easter update. Triduum is a too much to unpack at once. Too much happening on every level. This needs to be brought out one piece at a time. With luck, the trees will make a forest and individual posts will all create a whole. Here’s hoping. This one’s a long one and I’ll make no promises about the others. It was quite the Triduum.

There’s a few rounds of explaining to go through before I can get into the meat of this. First up is Triduum. Triduum is the Easter liturgy. It takes place in three parts. First is the celebration on Holy Thursday, followed by Good Friday, and culminating in the Easter Vigil, which starts on late on Holy Saturday and stretches into the first moments of Easter Sunday. It is one liturgy that is celebrated throughout the holiest days of the year and is celebrated in a gathered capacity on those three occasions. Holy Thursday is a celebration of the last supper when Jesus gave us both the Eucharist and the ordained ministry, making the disciples into the first bishops. Good Friday is quite sensibly the commemoration of Jesus death and the implications of that. The Easter Vigil is the celebration of the resurrection, beginning after sunset and staying up in anticipation of our Lord’s return.

Following the liturgy on Thursday, every parish anywhere has adoration of the blessed sacrament in a chapel of repose until midnight. Translated into non-Catholic language: After the Holy Thursday portion of the liturgy, we continue to celebrate the gift of the Eucharist by spending time with and praying to Christ, bodily present in the Holy Eucharist, until midnight. In preparation for Good Friday the altar is stripped and the sacrament is moved to a separate chapel from it’s usual place called a chapel of repose. This reposition continues until the Eucharist is celebrated again at the Easter Vigil. Catholics stay at the parish to adore the Eucharist until midnight.

Good Friday is probably the most straightforward of the three to explain. Catholics fast on Good Friday, typically staying away from meat other than seafood and eating a reduced amount. This is usually understood to be having one full meal, two smaller meals that added together, do not constitute a meal, and no snacking that day. I honestly have no idea why seafood is okay when other meat products are left out. There are many aspects of the faith that are a total mystery to me but I love eating fish and chips so some happy doctrines never get questioned.

The Easter Vigil is a thing of beauty. It starts late, after sunset. The beginning is around a fire outside. The first is blessed and that lights the Easter candle. The candle and the people process into the church where the Easter proclamation is made. We’re called to exult and rejoice for the Lord is risen. The readings begin at creation and tell the story of our salvation. The vigil is when new converts are welcomed into the Church through baptism and confirmation. I was baptized at an Easter Vigil so I have a yearly trip down memory lane as I see others experience the same process. Finally, we celebrate the rising of the Lord with the Eucharist. Once the liturgy ends the party begins. Celebration with food, drink, and friends is an essential act of worship in Catholic tradition. I’m not sure why we don’t advertise this more, since partying makes for great evangelism.

The Vigil after-party I was at last year was fantastic. I got to meet a girl who came over and talk to me and seemed very intent on conversation until she found out I was a seminarian. That kind of killed the conversation. Oh the joys of celibate life.

This isn’t a big update in terms of volume and is sorely lacking in background information. Acknowledging those shortcomings, there is something that absolutely must be expressed.

The capacity for grace in a human person is completely astonishing. When looking for it, mercy is not hard at all to find. It’s abundant and nearly irresistible.

Annunciation

It’s the Solemnity of the Annunciation of our Lord! In nine months it will be Christmas and our Savior will be coming to us. I love today. And in just a few moments you’ll get to find out why.

(Clever readers will not that today is the 26^th and Jesus was born on the 25^th. This solemnity is usually on the 25^th so that it can be exactly nine months to the day from Christmas. This year the 25^th was on a Sunday and Sundays during Lent take precedence over a solemnity like this. The procedure for a conflict like this is to move the lesser holy day to the next available day, which is usually the Monday after.)

Many years ago when I was first experiencing the Catholic Church and trying to figure out what exactly Catholic life looks like I was brought to a Bonanza. Normally Bonanza has no business in evangelism but our Lord works in mysterious ways. I was in the midst of my very first Lent fast and as has been mentioned before, I loathe fasting. Little did I know that solemnities trump weekdays during Lent so the fast didn’t apply for that day. Much to the opposite, it was a feast day and I had a spiritual responsibility to stuff myself and have fun. So I was brought to Bonanza. It was magnificent. I learned an important principle of Catholic faith: Jesus loves a good party. The revelry, fellowship, and sheer volume of food was quite overwhelming. The community that was welcoming me into the faith not only showed an profound appetite for prayer and penance but a remarkable aptitude to celebrate God as well. The reality of God’s activity in the world that I learned is that, by turns, our sinfulness demands penance from us and God’s abundant grace demands celebration from us. A new devotion of righteous partying was developing.  

As a far less spiritual aside, I once brought a girl I was dating to a Bonanza on the solemnity to relive the tradition. It turns out that whipped cream and sour cream can look deceptively similar. This is a great way to ruin one’s dessert. That kind of surprise can put a grinding halt on the feasting.

There are more stories about the Solemnity of the Annunciation to tell but they will have to wait for another year. I can’t spend too much of a day like this writing. There’s a whole new story to make.