Listening for God's Call

Thoughts from a seminarian

We have lots of unofficial mottos at Bishop White; some are serious, many are humorous. However, probably the most important one of these unofficial mottos is the Latin phrase, Nemo dat quod non habet, which means, "No one gives what he does not have." Our love for the man Jesus Christ, the Church, and the truths they teach have to be central to who we are, and we must truly fall in love with them if we expect to ever be effective priests. This culture does not value what is important, and does not understand many of the stands the Church takes because of what is truly important, our calling is to be convincing by our love of the beauty of these truths. The faculty of the seminary is crucial in this regard. Our rector, Father Darin Connall, most of all, but also the other priests who advise and guide us have a great and passionate love for the Church, Gospel and the priestly life.

The format of the seminary is somewhat informal, highlighting the great important of the structures that do exist). The seminary is allied with the University, rather than self enclosed, and it is a small community. All these elements have contributed to the high quality of my experience at Bishop White. I often tell the younger men that we are being formed to be "priests, not monks"; this is why I like the alliance with Gonzaga, as it forces us to live and act and contribute as part of a wider community that we cannot withdraw from, and yet we must still build the habits that we will need for our future priesthood. This prepares us to be priests who can balance the fact that they live in the world and enjoy membership in their communities, and yet are still able to maintain a strong personal relationship with God and a commitment to prayer despite the unpredictable and noisy nature of our modern world. Our presence in the University community also provides us the opportunity to contribute our faith-centric perspective and our values and our reflection on vocation, qualities which alas are all too lacking in the world, even on campus at times.

The fact that we are a small community forces us to deal with interpersonal issues, which is healthier than avoidance. Similarly, since the faculty and staff know us on a personal level, intrapersonal issues cannot easily "slip through under the radar" of either the other students or the rector and faculty - or even the cook. The advantage of this is that we are able to identify and confront things about ourselves that are easily hidden and which we would rather avoid, but which could poison our priesthood if not addressed. The small and tight-knit nature of the community also fosters a great deal of fraternity, the rare man aside, we are all much closer to each other than average male roommates are.

The format of the BWS program is also helpful for discernment. Again, it is hard for things to slip through the cracks. Issues are addressed and they do come up, which helps in the health of the process. I am blessed to have a more certain feeling about my discernment than some of my brothers, but I still have my own trials and doubts. Discernment is a process that is unique to the person and the call he is discerning. In my own case, on the most basic level it involves asking God in various ways "Do you want me to be your priest?" and asking myself, "Can I do this? Do I want to do this?" When issues come up, say surrounding celibacy and/or nostalgia for prior relationships, I examine them in a semi-Ignatian fashion. I dissect what I am feeling and why. What I often find is that that feeling or fond memory is not donative: I am or was seeking to take more than give. As we know the relationship between man and woman should be a desire to fill the other without seeking return, yet one has faith and trust that his beloved will indeed reciprocate. In these moments, I realize again what caused me to walk away from past relationships: she was wonderful and lovable in every way, but was not for me. The same is true for considering other occupations. They seem nice, but when I examine closer I realize that they cannot sate the hunger of my heart. By comparison, when I think of priesthood, I am filled with zeal and love from God and a hunger to love Him and His people, "to burn hot and bright, leaving no ash," as I sometimes put it. That joy remains. That joy feels like it is for me. Yes, fatigue, sin, my own inattentiveness to my spiritual life, and giving into self-pity or cynicism can hurt that feeling and confuse me, but it always comes back when I turn back to God just the same as if it had never been interrupted.

 - Brian Thompson, BWS ('09)

A rising spirituality

I had thought about the priesthood since about eighth grade, and my plan at the time was to major in Religious Studies and then go into the seminary after Gonzaga. But things didn't go quite like that.

I spent the first half of my sophomore year in Sharp Apartments, where my window had a clear shot across the street to the construction site of the new seminary. For about a month there was just the foundation, and various cement structures here and there, nothing too exciting. After coming back from classes one afternoon I was surprised to see that the frame of the chapel had been built within a few hours. 

The next day, the structure of the roof of the chapel was complete.

Watching the building go up coincided with a sudden increase in my spirituality. I was taking a great class on the liturgy by Father Michael Woods, S.J.; reading several books on mental prayer; attending daily mass; and participating in a group called the Discernment Companions, which John Shea, S.J., put together at the Jesuit House. 

This time cemented (no pun intended) my feeling of being called to the priesthood. I realized that, like the new seminary, the Kingdom of God needs to be built up, and the priesthood is an excellent way of doing just that.

In Mid-November 2008, I happened to serve a Mass that Father Darin Connall was saying. He said later that his "radar went off" when I told him afterwards that I was interested in the seminary. He called my bishop, Father Carlos Sevilla, S.J., who called my vocation director, Father Wilmar Zabala, who then called me. Before I knew it, I was filling out paperwork to enter Bishop White. For the last month of the fall semester, then, I looked out the window toward my future home.

While I feel that God is calling me, an unworthy sinner, to His priesthood, several things about the priesthood itself attract me. A priest's entire life is devoted towards the glory of God and the salvation of souls. What other job is there like that? In the world of today, driven by the gratification of the ego and the aimless desolation of relativism, priests who can challenge, motivate, encourage, console, inspire, suffer and rejoice with people are a vital necessity. A good priest is a visible realization of the presence of Christ in His Church. I feel that, especially today, the world needs to realize Christ's presence and love, and, therefore, it needs good priests.

The first time we sang as a community in the chapel was amazing. Last spring, with several weeks of construction left, Fr. Connall took all of us over to the building to see the nearly completed chapel. We had been living in several rental houses a block away and were using the University Student Chapel for Mass. Community life was not ideal. Once in the new chapel, however, we decided to sing in order to test the acoustics. We sang the "Salve Regina" and it was incredible. Here we were, finally in our new home, singing together.  It was a remarkable experience.

The life of prayer that seminarians are called to engage in become a strong force in our discernment process. Besides morning and evening prayer, daily Mass, weekly rosary, benediction and exposition twice a month, and weekly night prayer, we have spiritual directors, both Jesuit and diocesan priests, who cultivate and structure our personal prayer. It is both odd and inspiring to find young men who have not pop icons, athletes, or imaginary book characters as their heroes, but the scientists of prayer and the faith such as St. Teresa of Avila, St. Alphonsus Liguori, Dom Lorenzo Scupoli, Pope John Paul II, Pope Benedict XVI, St. Thomas Aquinas, St. Augustine and many others. Being in the seminary not only allows for, but requires also a life of prayer. As the Latin adage goes, "Lex orandi, lex credendi" or "The law of prayer governs the law of believing."

- Colin Pickett BWS ('10)