One of the benefits of being retired is time. Sometimes there appears to be an endless amount and, even in retirement, sometimes there is not enough. On one of those endless days I began to think about the past and the many unresolved issues and relationships that occur over a lifetime.
Something I have avoided for many years was my time in the catholic seminary. I went to a seminary high school and college. I left shortly before ordination to the priesthood. I had spent six months living in a parish and functioning as a deacon. I had trained for this most of my life and really thought this is what I wanted to do. The reality of the loneliness of such a life never really hit me until I was there. I was laicized, went home, and started a new life. I avoided dealing with this until I was in grad school and one of the projects we had was an autobiography organized around one of the theories we were studying. I used group theory and began to look at the loyalty that developed with my seminarian classmates over time. We spent so much time together that we became like family. Leaving the seminary was not just leaving the goal of the priesthood; it really was like abandoning a group that had become like brothers.
I stayed in touch for a while, but then began a new life with new friends. I began to date. I think I was 25 when I started. I still feel sorry for the first girl I went out with since I had no real idea on how to behave. As time went on I became more comfortable, met my wife, went to grad school and started my life. Looking back I know I should thank the seminary and my friends for the values I developed and my eventual choice of occupation. However I really didn’t want to think about that too much. I had walled off that part of my life.
As I approached my birthday I began to think about this more and more. I decided to visit the seminary in Mundelein. I hadn’t been there in over forty years. My wife wanted to go, but I told her that this time I wanted to go alone. I know it had changed because of the drop in vocations. When I was there, there were two huge residence halls filled with students. We were divided into two groups–the final two years of college (—called first philosophy and second philosophy); and three years of theology. There was a separate building for the final year before ordination, which I never went back to.
Walking around the campus brought back many memories. I started there in September of 1965. I had to stop when I realized that it was fifty years ago. When I first went there, it was extremely strict. We were isolated from the world and from our families. We were not allowed any newspapers, magazines, Television, or radio. After a few months the rules changed and we were finally allowed these things and allowed to have family contact. I remember some of the strange teachers we had. Thankfully when I went there classes were in English. Three years before I started the classes were in Latin. Most of the teachers were elderly Jesuits who had been there for years. There was a story that one of the old Jesuits was teaching a class on sexuality. He wanted his students to know what a condom was. He would pass out three or four condoms in class so the students would know what they looked like. The story goes that he did this in one class and suddenly got five back. It was like the story of the loaves and fishes, but he really didn’t know how to respond. As time went on the faculty changed and became younger and more progressive. Seeing the old buildings and classrooms helped me remember many of the funny stories. It also helped to put things in perspective. I think that for many years I didn’t want to deal with this because I initially felt that I had let my brothers down. As time went on I knew I had made the right choice and my life with my wife and family was where I was meant to be.
I also began to think of a guy who was my best friend. He was really like a brother to me. Most of the group we were close to left the seminary, but he stayed and was ordained. After I left we maintained contact for a while. He even married us, but then we lost contact. I have often wondered about him and what his life has been like. He is still a priest, but I never really went looking for him. After my visit I contacted the head of the archdiocese and located him. I wrote him a letter. I don’t know if he will respond or not. The letter was mostly for me as a way to get some closure. I still smile when I think of some of our adventures back then.
I went to the seminary bookstore and bought a shirt and a hat. I have hats from all the schools my sons attended, but nothing of my own. I don’t know if I will ever wear them , but I now have something from my own past.