Is the Seminary calling for you, or not?

While surfing the net, I often read blog posts about people discerning their religious or priestly calling. I always respond with encouragement; what do they have to lose – time, money, opportunities? As you can see, the seminary experience is still a vibrant part of my life even as I joyfully embrace being a husband & a father.

I entered the seminary after high-school though I wanted to enter earlier. For me, living & working for God alone is the best way to spend one’s life. In view of eternity, every career pales in comparison

But after the first year, I felt uneasy. I confided this to my spiritual director who encouraged me to persevere. This happened every year & I was assured that doubts are normal. By the end of my 9th year of temporary vows, I had to decide to do them for good or not make them at all – at least not then.

Though I had been faithful to my vows, I did not have the “moral certainty” that I could be celibate for life. A priest suggested to make the vows regardless and just get laicized if needed. But I did not want to make any promises that I wasn’t sure of keeping.

So instead, I bailed.

It was hard starting over. I complained to God saying that I’ve given Him the best years of my life & now I couldn’t find a soul mate. After 12 years, I met her. I have marriage vows now & I know I can keep those. And those temporary religious vows that I made & kept gave me the best of both worlds. I speak highly of religious life & the priesthood to my children in case God wants to call them later.

So, if anyone wants to consider the seminary, know that it comes from the word meaning seed. The seed of God’s call needs a protective environment lest the evil one eat it like a bird or the cares of the world strangle it like weeds.

The seminary is place to take care of this call, to hear it clearly & understand it. Sometimes, the call is temporary or is different. But if one goes there with a sincere desire to follow God, then everything will work out even if one will have to leave it to follow God.

Our Lady… in Blue Jeans?

My grandma’s first wages were in US silver dollars. She had them forged into a Rosary then gave them to my mom. I don’t recall seeing my mom use it much but she prayed when she’s in crisis.  When she was visited by a dead aunt who asked about me, she prayed the Hail Mary.  But the aunt did not vanish; she prayed back with the Holy Mary.  I was an infant then but that was my first involvement with the mother of God.

Fast forward to 2nd grade.  I volunteered to bring our statue of Mary for the shrine building contest.  And this happened every year until 6th grade.  Also, I visited the Blessed Sacrament during recess and stopped to talk to a life sized statue of Mary Help of Christians.  Although she didn’t answer (interlocution), I always felt relief and happiness after the talk.

Around 30 years after, I heard about alleged interlocutions at Conyers, GA.  I thought that if our Lady took the trouble to come over, then the least that I can do is to be there.  So, I flew over, slept at a hotel, rented a car and drove to the site at the scheduled date.  When I got there, I walked and looked around for something awesome – like a dancing sun.  But there was nothing except for the realization that God is most offended by abortion.  Upon my return, I called on a few friends to join me in stopping abortions.  Weekends after that, we stood at the gates of the clinics holding pictures of a fetus to show the mother that she’s not popping a zit but killing a person - with a head, torso, arms and legs.  That was a harrowing experience but we came out unscathed; because, we prayed the Rosary every time.

Now for the pièce de résistance.  It was during that campaign when I woke up one Friday morning with the assurance that I will meet the Blessed Mother that day.  There was no nervousness, anxiety or distress.  It felt serene and peaceful with subdued anticipation.  I was off that day so, I visited to the basilica of the Immaculate Conception.  I went to shop below and bought a statue of Our Lady of the Americas.  I don’t know about that apparition, but our Lady is our Lady no matter where she shows up; besides, it was on sale.

Then I went up and strolled into the side chapels – partly praying, partly admiring the art work.  As I left the chapel of Our Lady of Poland, a woman stepped out of the chapel of Our Lady of Guadalupe and greeted me.

She said, “What’s in the bag?” “It’s a statue of our Lady”, I replied.  She asked to see it and I showed her.  “She’s beautiful” she said.  “What’s your name?” I asked.  “Sophia” she answered.  By this time, I smelled the stench of urine from her unwashed jeans.  I also noticed her bare feet with chipping red nail polish.  She wore a white T-shirt, was medium built, around 5’ 6” with fair complexion.  Her hair was flat and long and her face was average - for want of a better term.  She was neither ugly nor beautiful.  Besides, I did not really check her out because at the back of my head, she could be the Blessed Mother.  Long story short, we parted casually although I asked her for prayers after handing her a couple of bucks.  I didn’t know what I was thinking.

Later, I told a priest about it.  He said there are a lot of homeless women in the area.  Then I thought that Mother Mary didn’t have much, if any, after St. Joseph died and the Lord left home to preach.  Was she also homeless when she started to follow her son?  And, “Sophia” is Greek for wisdom; one of her titles is “Seat of Wisdom”.  Finally, she came out of the Guadalupe chapel.  Our Lady of Guadalupe is the Patroness of the Pro-life movement.

But it can all be a coincidence but not for me.  Ever since, our Lady is no longer a person whom I read or heard about.  She’s Sophia who had no place to lay her head yet had time to pray at her Father’s house.   She’s my friend and I am her servant.