SEMINARIANS

            Who are these men who decisively leave their loved ones in a faraway place and stay in a secluded concrete-walled house? Who are these men who sacrifice ordinary life with the fun and happiness that the material world can give them in exchange for a life of simplicity? Who are these men who, at the clanging of the bell, drop whatever they are doing to heed the call? Who are these men who make a profession of goodness and labor to master the self in perfect charity and discipline?

            Fresh from high school, I was on my way to living a life I could call my own. I was 17 then- full of zest, vibrant, ambitious. Idealism was at the core of my being and never was there a time in my life that I felt so free. Free from the burden of asking for money which was given after I had answered a series of questions. Free from school exams, assignments, critical and boring teachers, deadlines, or in a word, pressure. I had gone to school for 11 long and stressful years and I thought that was enough in the meantime.

            My parents left me when I was in my first year in high school. So, I did working student in order for me to finish my studies. But even if our biological father left us for some absurd and immature reasons, I do not consider our family as broken since we are complete. To say that ours is a dysfunctional family is understatement. Let me clarify this one. My mother married to a man whom we treat as our true father. I believe that true family is not measured by the similarity of blood that is flowing through the veins but by the love which binds them together.

            Our foster father hails from Davao. And it happened that my parents, together with my siblings, badly needed to move out to my father’s native place because of social and economic purposes. Since I just started my first year in my secondary course, I decided to be left in the custody of my uncle. I willingly worked in his farms, ran his errands, did household chores, etc. with the condition that he will shoulder my tuition fees and other expenses. Things went better. I did well in my studies. Thus, my folks were proud of me. After my graduation, I bade goodbye to my generous uncle and to all the people who have witnessed my struggles.  However, it was not without great difficulty that I was able to convince him that I had to go to the city to further my studies in tertiary level. (The truth was, I just wanted to be free and the very thought of the adventure awaiting me was simply irresistible.)

            I said to them that I am going to enter in the seminary. Actually that was really what in my mind when I travelled all by myself going to Manila. But when I got here, things were suddenly changed including my plan of entering the seminary. I was definitely overwhelmed by the “beauty” of city life. When I arrived here, I was surprise of the high standard of living. Unlike in our province, here you cannot live without money for it seems everything has to be bought or paid.

            Meanwhile, I stayed with my maternal aunt somewhere in Rizal. Thanks be to God for giving me friendly and flexible characters that helped me a lot. I easily got new acquaintances. My few days were heaven. One of my new friends, who happened to be a Boholano also, recommended me to his bosses. I applied and luckily, I got hired in one of the corporations in Quezon City. Perhaps, you are thinking of what was my employment since I was just a high school graduate with no job experience. Well, I was an all-around staff doing janitorial works, running errands, and some sort of office-things-to-do which I am capable of doing. I think it was a good start. You know what was the good thing about my job is that I was not assigned to specialized task but rather I was exposed to different things and I learned so much from them.   

            When I received my first salary, I bought the things I was long deprived of and did everything only a headstrong person would do. But as the days dragged on, I began thinking again about my freedom. I thought I could only be free if I would live on my own with no one to tell me what to do and when to do it. So I decided to move out. I rented a room and relished my freedom. The feeling was overwhelming. With steely determination and cunning, I was certain I could have savings from my monthly compensation. I could study in College, solely on my own effort, and then I would be free to do anything and have everything I want.

            Every single day brought me to a step closer to my dream. Every move was calculated, every step numbered. But one thing disturbed me: when I wanted something I made sure I’d have it and just “devoured” it. My wants became bigger and bigger, and I was never satisfied. The more money I had, the more complicated my life became. I was never contented. I got praised for my abilities, obedience and honesty, and I enjoyed it. But it never filled my being; I still felt empty. After a day’s work, I’d go home feeling lonely.

            One day a friend invited me to attend an evening mass at Christ The King Church. At the minster, my attention was focused on the priests who were officiating the holy mass and the seminarians who were serving with their sacred and beautiful vestments. Somehow that picture set off some memories. There I was in high school wanting to become a priest amid crushes, falling in love, discos, gimmicks and the like. That yearning was still there when I was already working, but the material world was simply awesome. The world and I met, and like breath on a mirror which blurs the reflection, it hid the truth about my vocation. Coming out of my reverie, I found myself seriously participating in the Eucharistic celebration to the point that I became emotional.  That experience happened not only once but many times for I enjoyed attending holy masses.

            After a year of working, a familiar thought came across my mind. Perhaps, it’s about time to pursue my vocation because I believed I have a calling. I called my high school friend up since he was a seminarian at that time. I asked for the personal cell phone number of their vocation director because I was planning to apply in their seminary to which where I now belong. Good thing that I began communicating with the vocation director and I was able to express my initial desire. But the bad news is that, I needed to finish my one year contract before I can leave my job. It took me more patience and fortitude to wait the right time.

            Until one day, I met this priest. I told him everything and asked him how I could become a religious, either brother or priest. He told me to give myself more time and think hard about it, for a religious life is a life of poverty and obedience. He told me never to enter a seminary just to get away from problems or run away from the world and responsibilities. He taught me the basic Christian doctrines, patiently preparing for my vocation. And when I was finally leaving to a religious community, he told me to remember one word, “Obey.”

            At first, I could not decipher its significance. How can I be free if I obey? But it was just a matter of time before I would appreciate the paradox called freedom. In 2009, I entered St. Mary Formation House. It is situated in front of Laguna de Bay. The air is delightfully cool. However, the place is not so ideal for a life of ora, studium et labora (pray, study and work).

            My first few months at the seminary were honeymoon months. Waking up before the sun rises was a novelty. At 5:30, we start our meditation which is followed by the celebration of the Holy Eucharist with the lauds. Breakfast is served right after the mass is said. At 7:30, we commence our classes. Lunch is at 12:00, followed by siesta from 1:00 to 2:30. Mid-afternoon prayer is at 2:45 p.m, followed by study period and “time to sweat.” Vespers is at 6:30 right after we say the Holy Rosary. Supper is served at 7:00, and then study time is until 10:30, when all lights are to be switched off. I usually do my readings until 10:20 and then I would drift off to sleep until it’s 5:00 in the morning. The bell signals the time, and it can be unnerving for one who is not used to it.

            Months after I joined them, I was humming a heavy metal tune. The honeymoon stage was waning. I felt like a tsunami was hurtling toward me. In the seminary, one can’t make mistake without feeling like Forrest Gump. Even seminarians have distinct attitudes since they come from different environments with disparate upbringing, and clashes are inevitable. Small things are magnified and big ones are blown up.

            Even singing in the choir can cause some tension. If one sings louder than the others, there’s going to be some reaction to that. If one sings too softly, that’s also going to elicit some critical remarks. If you eat fast, someone is sure to remark: “why he doesn’t even chew his food?” Eat a bit slowly and you would find yourself red in the face when you realize that others have been waiting for you to finish.

            After a few years passed, it dawned on me that we are all persons of imperfections and limitations, and that we are trying to be good. Seminarians are human beings not angels. Only fools think of themselves as angels. Human nature tells us to follow the ways of the world, but our true nature tells us to be like God. We sometimes act on impulse, often against our will, but it helps to realize the whole spirit of religious life is one of striving, of trying to be, of becoming. I can see that each and everyone of my brothers is a soul that is continuously laboring to do good in spite of difficulties and contradictions. After every fall, there is a mighty effort to stand up, and not just for himself but also for others.

            Every fall, contradiction or difficulty is an opportunity to be united with God. My fellow seminarians taught me (and still are teaching me) patience, humility and especially how to love. To love without expecting anything in return, to love till it hurts, to love in spite of everything, for indeed, everything is a grace from God. And how about my elusive freedom? My life is structured and I look like I am in a prison cell. But I can say without any reservation that I feel and I am free. I know that finally I am treading on the right path. For the first time, my eyes are truthfully opened, like the agonizing Job’s. “Have you ever in your lifetime commanded the morning and shown the dawn its place?” God asked him. Only then did he see the first rays of dawn.

            Fears, problems and anxieties- I still have them and will continue to have them through my entire life. But I am beginning to learn to be one with myself and to be in control so that the I will be above the illusory It; until finally, I’ll be in complete union with, in the beautiful language of Martin Buber, the Eternal Thou. It was only when I asked God to take away my freedom that I found freedom.