first thoughts on seminary formation

This is one piece I’ve written after a year in the seminary as formator – some 9 years ago. I reread it once in a while to get in touch with my original feelings and thoughts about my seminary work. I just found out that these rereadings are important if we want to recover the original enthusiasm that once was . . .


One is seldom given a choice when the higher-ups decide where to assign an assistant priest. But last year, against tradition, they did. They consulted me and I was given a choice. “Where do you prefer, the regional seminary or the St. Vincent Ferrer Seminary?” I was silent for a long time, actually I was silently waiting for another offer. Nothing came – those were the only choices. I chose my present assignment conscious that in being made to choose between hell and the deep blue sea, one has no other choice but the latter. It’s a lot cooler . . . and frankly I called this place a home once. I have been here before . . . same old walls, familiar scenes and faces (though older now), historic nooks and corners, same old broken bell, same chapel clapper, Benedicamus Domino – familiar sights and sounds. Except for the food everything here makes me recall those days.
I came here last year – November 5 on a Wednesday assigned to a horrible task that would make a lion-tamer pale in comparison. The job is a combination of the following: Police work (“Go and catch the crook” thing.), inspector ( may tawo pa da . . dasig dasig!) Detective work (I still receive incoming letters for perusal.), “Permits” Officer – one gets attuned to “May I . . .” “Lisensiya kami . . .” and “Puede ako ka guwa?”, Angel of Death (breaking the bad news.) Mathematician (one, two three, four . . . kulang kamo haw?), Cadet Officer (“Form your lines!”).
One may include on the job description the following: occasional baby sitter, counselor, dad, mom, mediator, manug-blowout, playmate, brother, middleman, friend, or somebody so nice to hate, somebody to laugh about and occasionally to laugh with.
I wanted to clean-up the image of the position I’m in. I wanted to present a more fraternal rather than an authoritarian image, somebody approachable . . . a brother perhaps or a friend. I wanted to strike a balance between authority and plain old buddy type - a companion on the journey perhaps, the defender of values or community animator. Frankly I am a bit confused as to the titles and how to act. But clearly I have to abandon the police image. Attempts to compromise extremes ended up with attempts to remain strict but gentle, demandingly harsh but encouraging, prone to anger but equally inclined to tears, passionate yet austere, rigid yet kind-hearted. Has anyone of you ever knew how it is to maintain a strict composure in the outside when deep inside you wanted to feel sorry for him and hug him. It has never been easy to walk the middle way and there were times when one has to ask a hundred times over “what must I do?” I have never been so insecure in my life not until accusations like favoritism hit the floor or reach the free board. When my serious and painstaking attempt to rid them of fear ended up with the opposite verdict printed on T-shirts. I am at a loss personally but I can’t pin the blame on anybody except on my lack of experience and the passionate drive to get things done as efficiently as I can.
Along the way I experienced how it is to be loved, hated . . . and most of the time dreaded by them. Not much of a consolation here considering the tasks one has to perform.
This is a strange place to work in at these times. Formation, unlike before, is basically relational now, and one could not just hop in and start the ball rolling all at once. One could not just create a system, too impersonal and mechanical. One has to start from the very rudiments of relationship – trust, knowing each other, learning to listen. One has to start with friendship.
It would have been easier for me by remaining in a system where authority takes center stage. It would have been easier for them too. The rules would have been spelled out more clearly, in black and white. Everything would have been dictated to them. But the problem with rules clearly spelled in black and white is, it does not form responsible and discerning people. They are law-abiding indeed but their abidance lacks a very important ingredient – sincerity or truthfulness. Obedience is important in the kind of life we are formed into, but can they learn real obedience before they have even learned to think for themselves?
The implications of such thoughts are tremendous and some of them run contrary to my desire and the very system I am attuned to work in. By making them decide for things I run the risk of facing the consequences of wrong decisions (it could be costly at times). By emphasizing creativity I have to learn to accept their ideas. By giving them certain freedoms I must be ready to face abuses and their outcome. By emphasizing personal responsibility I loose my control over them. My need to form a well-ordered, well-defined community could never come to fruition. Order would never tolerate mistakes – and mistakes seem to be the most consistent by-product of this system. You take away the mistakes and you get order, but you deprive them of the opportunity to develop personal responsibility.