My Vocation Story Part 3 (Houston)

I've been very busy and it's been awhile, but I will pick up where I left off: starting seminary in Houston.

What is seminary like?  It’s been said there are two things you don’t want to know how they are made: sausages and priests.  It’s not quite that bad.  The first thing to say for sure is that each seminary is different.  Yes, there are some things that are universal, like classes, daily Mass, Morning and Evening prayer, but the particulars are unique.  Something as simple as daily or weekly schedule can vary widely.  For instance, in Houston, we had class Monday through Thursday with Friday as a formation day.  In Milwaukee, our formation day is Wednesday.  (Formation day basically means instead of regular classes, we have classes based on things like prayer or Mass practice.)  In Houston, we had Mass at 11:30.  In Milwaukee, we have Mass after Morning Prayer (around 7:15).  Of course there are other differences, but those are just a few examples.

By the way, in seminary we talk of four "pillars of formation."  These are: spiritual, human, intellectual, and pastoral.  There are debates over which is most important, but really a balance is needed.

My two years at St. Mary’s in Houston were a great formation experience.  The people were great, to begin with.  At St. Mary’s, rooms were, more or less, dependent on class.  So, First Theologians all lived on the same floor, for example.  Our Pre-Theology class was the first significant class in a long time, so we were kind of guinea pigs. Unlike other classes, we were spread out amongst all the others.  This ended up being a fantastic grace for me, because I lived with the Third Theologians.  They immediately accepted me and made me feel welcome.  I still remember the first Saturday I was there I was about to go out and get some dinner.  One of those men invited himself along.  While at first I was put off, after all, I am very independent, it ended up being the best thing.  It immediately pulled me out of myself.  By the way, everyone of course goes through adaptation issues when they enter seminary.  For me, the most difficult thing was living in community.  I had lived by myself, more or less, for 10 years.  It had only increased my natural self-dependency.  Now, all of a sudden, I lived on a floor with about 15 other men, sharing a bathroom with a handful of toilets and three showers.  Forget independence, now your life is controlled by another.  I became so close to that class that when they were ordained the following year I joked that my class was leaving me.

 The seminary is really beautiful

Our philosophy classes were not at the seminary but rather at the nearby University of St. Thomas (as might be expected, they were extremely Thomistic, not a bad thing for a future priest).  This meant that the Pre-Theologians carpooled four days a week.  Whether we wanted to or not, this forced us to become close.  Thankfully, I was part of a great group of guys.  Each one pushed me to grow in some way.

What kind of philosophy classes?  That was the question that they were still working out (as I said, guinea pigs).  There were kind of two groups of classes.  On the one hand, there were the historical philosophy classes (Ancient, Medieval, Modern Philosophy).  Then there were the thematic philosophy classes (Metaphysics, Philosophy of God, Philosophy of Man, Epistemology, etc.).  Most people expected that they would be easy for me.  Alas, philosophy is a very different field of study from history.  For the most part I figured things out, but it was not easy.  At the same time we had a few classes in theology and liturgy, as well as Spanish.

I have often said this, and it is very true: the most important book I read in Pre-Theology was Joseph Ratzinger’s The Spirit of the Liturgy.  This book gave me a completely different look on the Liturgy.  On top of that, I became involved in the Schola.  Our Schola leader/Liturgist was one of the most important people in my formation.  Between Ratzinger and Schola, I began to understand that the “normal Catholic” idea of Liturgy was way off what it should be.  I had only gone to the Latin Mass once before joining seminary, and I did not like it because I did not understand what was going on.  Even in seminary, the first time I went I was turned off.  But then I started learning about the theology behind it, and realized how rich it was.  This was a hugely important part of my Pre-Theology formation.  I wanted to make sure that, if I were to be ordained, I would do Liturgy the right way, not necessarily the way people have become used to.  Schola, by the way, was hard work.  We met at least twice a month for two hours.  It was well worth the work, since we sang at least two Sundays a month and some other major Liturgies.  Again, hard work, but fulfilling.  Beyond the work, I was able to be around some of the best people I have ever known.

Read this book

Overall, my years at St. Mary’s were good years.  That being said, I gradually realized that I was not meant to be in Houston.  I have written already on this blog a longer account of my discernment process.  Essentially, by the end of my first year, I was on the fence.  That summer, I went to a summer long formation program in Omaha called Institute for Priestly Formation.  Long story short, a lot of guys love IPF.  I liked parts of it.  At the beginning there is an eight-day silent retreat where you meet with a spiritual director every day.  This was great.  The rest of the summer is basically classes on various aspects of priestly spirituality.  It is heavily based on Ignatian Spirituality.  A bit too heavy, in my opinion.  By the July 4^th holiday, at least, I was ready to go.  The best parts of the summer, outside of the retreat, was getting to know seminarians from all over the country and being able to visit a few Midwestern spots.  That Independence Day, I stayed a few days in St. Louis at their beautiful seminary and was able to attend a few Cardinals games and Cahokia National Park.  I took a day trip to see the Field of Dreams in Dyersville, Iowa, as well as the surprise find of their amazing basilica.  I was also able to go to an Astros game in Kansas City, one of my favorite ballparks.  Oh yes, then of course Omaha is the home of the College World Series (unfortunately the Aggies just missed it).  So it wasn’t a lost summer.  There was lots of baseball.

 St. Louis Cathedral: perhaps most beautiful church in US

Dyersville Basilica

There was another importance of this summer.  I was reminded of how much I liked the Midwest.  This was very influential on my discernment for a new diocese.  Having family from Wisconsin, I looked into the dioceses there.  Through my own research, as well as the encouragement of some of my friends, I began to focus on Madison.  I was able to visit that Christmas, and immediately felt comfortable.  That Spring, I sat on my big secret.  The funny thing was, a rumor began to spread in the seminary that I was to be sent to Rome for Theological studies.  I let it go, to throw people off the scent.  I figured a false rumor would keep people from finding about my plans to leave before I was ready to make it public.

I have to say that this decision, which could have become a major issue, was handled very well.  The diocese assured me of their support and did not “out” me before I was ready.  The same for the seminary.  Thankfully, those involved in the discernment process know it is just that: a process.  Men need time to think and pray about it.  It should be up to the individual to make their discernment public when he is ready.  Any kind of discernment decision should never be made public by someone else.

I was officially accepted to the Diocese of Madison on Holy Saturday.  I was able to finish out the school year before the transfer was official.  It was a bit awkward for some people, especially those who thought they should have known earlier (even if it was none of their business).  And, as with any big decision, some people took it personally.  But, on the whole, the transition went well.  After finishing in early May, I was able to stay around and attend a few ordinations for my “classmates.”  The first week of June, I officially moved to Madison and spent the summer at St. Bernard’s Parish in Madison, my new home parish.  It was a great experience, completely welcoming.

My Vocation Story, Part 2 (Teaching and Discernment)

Picking up where I left off…

I returned to Auburn and completed my PhD in May 2012.  I was now in my second year of trying to find full time employment, and nothing was happening.  Over three years, I applied to over 200 jobs and got a total of 2 interviews.  That's how bad it is in academy.  So I spent a year teaching part time at various colleges in Alabama and Georgia, including one north of Atlanta, about 2 hours away.  Nothing much else happened, until Christmas 2012.  I visited my parents as usual in Houston.  Then, out of nowhere, after a couple of daily Masses, two separate elderly women asked me if I had thought about being a priest.  When the first one asked, I basically laughed and said, no, not for me.  When the second one asked, I paused for a minute and thought, actually I never have really thought about it.  Thus began what I always call "the voice that wouldn't go away."  Now actually, this wasn't the first time a little old lady had asked me.  I remember one time in Auburn meeting a Daily Mass goer at the grocery store and she asked me then, but again I simply laughed and said no.  I always tell this story in my vocation talks so that people know, sometimes it's good to ask the question, especially if no one else has asked.  (Side note: my mom had been putting it in my ear for a few years.  "You know, if you want a job, there's always one open to you."  "Yeah mom, not for me."  She will tell you, I never listen to her until someone else says the same thing.)

I began to think about it a bit more.  In the spring, I went on a "come and see" excursion to a seminary in Louisiana.  This actually was a step back.  I felt completely out of place, for a couple of reasons.  For one, it seemed like everyone else there knew they were going to be priests.  I had to room with two other guys I didn't know, and the first question they asked me was: which diocese are you applying for?  Um, sorry, I'm just here to check it out.  Second, the guys were just so young.  It was a college seminary, so it was like spending a weekend with my students.  I came back pretty sure I wasn't going to go to the seminary.

But I wasn't completely shut off.  I also attended a "thinking about the priesthood" day at the parish.  It was pretty good, with a handful of priests, seminarians, and the bishop.  The theme was fear.  Everyone has fears about applying to the seminary and being a priest.  Their goal was to talk about those fears and dispel them.  It was actually a good experience.

I talked to a number of priests I knew.  They were encouraging.  In the end, I took the advice of my pastor.  Don't rush into it.  Take a year to do what you want to do (i.e. teach) and pray about it.  Ok, I can do that.  (Another side note: this was all going on during the time of Pope Benedict's resignation and the conclave.  In fact, I was meeting with my pastor when the white smoke appeared.  I remember distinctly before the meeting we talked about the fact that a vote was going on, but that a decision probably wouldn't happen.  HA!  I ended up sticking around the parish watching the TV with a couple of other random people who were around until the announcement of Pope Francis.  It was an interesting experience.)

So I had a plan, but I had no job.  I couldn't not afford to keep doing what I was doing (part-time jobs, even four of them, don't pay much), so I was going to have to move back home and teach part time in Houston.  Of course I could only find one job there, so I was going to have to figure out something else for income.  Here's your typical PhD, working at a book store/fast food restaurant.  Then, a slight miracle happened.  Less than a month before the fall semester was to start, and about two weeks before I was to move, I got a call from a university I didn't even remember applying to.  Grand Valley State University had one last full time position (three year renewable) open.  Was I interested?  Of course!  I quickly hopped on a plane, met with them, found an apartment, and flew back to finish packing.  (This was the great trip where I lost my driver's license at airport security.  Do you know how hard it is to travel without one?  It makes getting a rental car impossible, so I had to bum a ride from the chair of the department to find an apartment.  Luckily I had a picture student ID to get on the plane.)

Thus we transition to my discernment year.  Let me start by saying that I absolutely fell in love with Grand Rapids.  This despite the 114 inches of snow we got that winter, and the two full weeks of below zero temperatures.  It's a very nice city, just the right size, with everything you need.  And it only takes twenty minutes to get anywhere.  By that I mean it literally takes twenty minutes to get somewhere, no matter how far or how close.  It's weird like that.  I also loved the university and the department.  I loved teaching.  I was finally doing exactly what I wanted to do.  I was able to work sparingly on turning my dissertation into a book, getting the publication lined up, while starting on my next research project (I'm keeping that secret, since I'd still kind of like to do it in my massive spare time.)  All things considered, I was extremely happy and had no reason to change, unless I found a tenured position.

I did not forgo my promise to spend the year discerning, however.  After a lengthy search, I finally found a good parish for me (St. John Vianney, of course).  The pastor agreed to be my spiritual director.  He encouraged me to have a weekly Holy Hour at a perpetual adoration chapel on the other side of town (that meant I had to really want to go).  I began to read Thomas Kempis' Imitation of Christ (that's a doozy, every time I picked it up, it was exactly what I needed).  For some reason, even though I loved what I was doing, that voice would not stop.  Sometime shortly after Christmas, I came to the realization, with my spiritual director, that the only way I could know would be to try it.

This was not an easy realization.  The biggest hang up for me was that it had taken three years to find a full time job, doing what I wanted to do at a good school in a nice area.  I had to "break through" the ego and realize that, even if I discerned out, something good would come from my time in the seminary.  (I didn't break my ego that much.  My rationalization was that if I discerned out, the time in the seminary would help me get a job at a Catholic college.  No joke.)

Thus, I began to look into seminary.  The problem was, since I had moved around so much, I did not really feel as though I had a "home diocese."  (For those who are not Catholic, a diocese is essentially a governing district, centered around a city, with a bishop as the head.  Sometimes they are big; the whole state of South Carolina is the Diocese of Charleston; sometimes they are small; the Archdiocese of Washington, D.C. is D.C. and some of the surrounding area.  Archdiocese is simply a "more significant" diocese in the region.)  I had most recently lived the longest in the Diocese of Mobile, but that did not appeal to me.  Since I really liked Grand Rapids, I decided to meet with the vocations director.  He was very nice, certainly willing to talk with me, but he voiced a concern from experience.  He had originally studied for another diocese, before realizing he needed to be closer to home and transferring to Grand Rapids.  He told me I needed to go home, be near family.  If that didn't work out, then he would be willing to talk. 

I took his advice, and contacted the Archdiocese of Galveston-Houston, home for my parents.  Over spring break, I flew home to meet with them.  I began the application process, and had everything in relatively quickly.  I flew home another time for my official interview, and was accepted.  In the fall, I would begin seminary.  I'm kind of rushing through this, but will go into more detail about the application process and some thoughts on discernment the next time.

My Vocation Story: Part 1 (Early Life-Grad School)

I was asked some time ago, by someone important, to write about something other than baseball and movies.  Someone else had told me, a couple of years ago, that I should write "the inside scoop" on seminary.  Well, I'm not going to go that far, especially since they say there are two things no one should know how they're made: sausages and priests, but I did figure that I could marry those two suggestions.  I figured I'd start what I hope to be a series of blogs about vocations and seminary, in case anyone wants to know more about that.  After all, one of the most frequent questions is: why would someone want to be a priest?

This first post is intended to be a glimpse at my process of getting to the seminary.  Some people may think all priests (or seminarians) have basically the same story.  In fact, as many seminarians and priests as there are, there are that many different stories.  I will say you can mostly group them into three camps: those who knew all their life and entered right out of high school, those who had an idea but still decided to try "real college" before seminary, and then there's the "late vocations," sometimes also called "second vocations."  These are the old, sometimes wise ones.  Sacred Heart Seminary and School of Theology, where I currently take classes in Milwaukee, specializes in these late vocations.

Ostensibly I fall into the third category, though not perfectly.  Despite what those at St. Francis might say, I'm on the lower end of the "late vocations," since most are in their 40s or 50s.  So for that group I'm young, though for many seminarians I'm old.  As usual, I don't fit in.

This is kind of getting besides the point.  How did I get to the seminary?  Why did I go to the seminary?  Good questions.

Let me begin by saying, I never, until very recently, thought about being a priest.  Growing up, I never thought beyond baseball.  I still rarely do.  I think the earliest I ever declare a future job was when I was about 5 years old I told my mom at Daily Mass that I wanted to be a doctor "so I could help people."  I don't know what that was about.  I remember saying it, but I don't remember thinking it.  I certainly moved away from the doctor thing quickly, since the sight, or even thought, of blood and other bodily fluids makes me queasy.  My sister got all of those genes. 

But, there's another detail in there that may be important: Daily Mass.  My mom took me every day until I started school.  So going to Church was normal for me.  It also led to a kind of funny side note, though seminarian me kind of cringes when I tell this story.  I had my first Communion at a very early age.  You see, I grew up in Houston, in the 80s.  They were (very unfortunately) very loose about things back then.  There was no tabernacle in the church (sigh) so after Mass the "extra" consecrated hosts were brought into the sacristy.  Did I mention my mom was a sacristan?  In any case, one day I found myself, hungry, in the sacristy.  I was tall enough to reach the counter, so I'm guessing I was around 5 (there's that age again).  I was hungry, I saw food, so I started eating.  After consuming a couple, my mom walked in, saw what was happening, and quickly made me stop.  The holy side of the story is: I could not wait to receive the Body of Christ.  The unfortunate side of the story is: I was able to do it in the first place.

I digress again.  As I said, I grew up very close to the Church, but in some ways it was so "normal" that I never really thought about it.  I never thought about being a priest, largely because I wanted to be like my dad and have my own family.  So that's how I went through the next twenty years or so: marriage was my only option. 

I eventually realized I would never be a baseball player, and being a manager was a long shot.  I had to think about something else.  I still don't really know how I decided on history, though the best explanation I can give is that I like my AP US History course (which was taught by my baseball coach).  In any case, when it came time to decide on college, I settled on history.  I also thought about theatre, and even auditioned for and received a theatre scholarship to the University of Dallas.  This was THE SCHOOL my mom wanted me to go to.  It's Catholic, and pretty solid at that, and nearly every student spent one semester studying in Rome (I could have met St. JPII).  The history program was pretty good, I had the theatre scholarship, and there was a chance I could walk-on the Division II baseball team.  It seems like the perfect fit!  But yet, on the last day I could choose, I went with Texas A&M.  I don't really have a good reason why, except that at the time I was working at Texas Roadhouse in College Station, with a bunch of Aggies, and I got swept up in the Spirit of Aggieland.  It can do that to you.

I am happy to say that, unlike the majority of "kids these days," I continued to go to Mass every Sunday.  It helped that St. Mary's is a pretty awesome place.  That being said, I do have to admit that many times it was out of obligation, or maybe guilt, more than "want to."  What I'm trying to say is that I was not exactly the best Catholic.  I started dating a girl in Houston, and it got pretty serious.  If you know me well, you know that it was serious enough that we got engaged.  For my 3.5 years at A&M, I essentially went home to Houston every other weekend, so I never really got into the St. Mary's scene.  Shortly before I graduated, we broke up, and I prepared to move on to grad school (and of course it was that easy to move on). 

This meant a move all the way to the University of North Texas in Denton.  During my two years there, I had a bit of a conversion experience.  By that I mean, something happened that made me take my faith more seriously, and Sunday Mass became less an obligation and more something I wanted to do.  During one of the summers, one of my best friends convinced me to go to Aggie Awakening.  So you see, while I was at A&M, I never even bothered to go, that's how out of the scene I was.  In any case, I went with an open mind.  I'm glad I did, because it remains one of the most important weekends of my life.  It was largely a "right place, right time" retreat for me.  I felt much closer to my faith, and realized I had to take it seriously.

I then moved on to Auburn University, and I actually went out of my way to become more involved in Church (difficult for my extreme introversion).  Even though I was already one of the "old ones," I got involved in the vibrant college student group.  (Another side note: by "vibrant" I mean, from a relatively small group, we have at least three religious sisters, one religious brother, and I believe four seminarians/priests from my time there.)  It was a very good group, with some people I wish I had got to know even better.  I also started to attend Daily Mass fairly frequently, eventually became the sacristan for our Thursday evening Mass, and was part of one of the two Sunday night Mass choirs for five years.  Despite all of this, I never once thought about being a priest.  It was still marriage or nothing.  I did, however, start to think about perhaps becoming a permanent deacon one day (the old "best of both worlds" falsity). 

During my time at Auburn, I was blessed with the chance to travel to Europe for my dissertation research.  I was studying the Mission Control Centers of the United States and European space programs, and needed to travel to each of them for research.  Houston was easy, California was a quick flight, and I also drove to D.C. for the National Archives (a great trip in itself).  The European leg consisted of three main stops.  First, I had to go to Paris to visit the European Space Agency Headquarters and archives.  I had never been that interested in going to Paris, except maybe to see Versailles and Normandy.  Instead, I loved my time there, and did not see either of those (meaning I need to return).  Next was the actual control center in Darmstadt, Germany.  It's a small city south of Frankfurt.  It is definitely not a tourist stop.  The final necessary stop was Florence, the home of the official archives for ESA.  I had not thought much about Florence before, except that I knew there was obviously a lot of history there.  If I fell in love with Paris, I don' t know what to say about Florence.  It is by far my favorite city I have ever visited.  The most meaningful stop for me was in the church of Santa Maria Novella, near the train station (and my apartment).  While I was looking around, completely blown away, I decided to sit down for a little while to take it all in.  At that moment, I felt completely at peace, as never before.  At the time, I took it as consolation of my faith, and an increased desire to serve the Church in some way (as a married man).  Looking back, it was probably my first real pull towards the seminary, but again, I did not see it as such at the time.

Oh by the way, while in Florence I met up with a couple of friends, and we took a side trip to Venice (disappointing, the city, not the company).  Also, while planning my trip, I decided: I'm so close to Rome, I can't NOT go there.  So I tacked on a few days at the end to visit Rome.  To be honest, after Florence I was not that impressed with Rome (but not the Vatican, that was amazing, especially the Sistine Chapel-Last Judgment!).  I need to go back to better appreciate it.