By Todd Jones
The Columbus Dispatch
August 25, 2009
http://www.dispatch.com/live/content/multimedia/priest/day4.html
 |
Rigors of academic studies challenge seminarians, as does the sacrifice of priestly training
His book bag resembled those carried by most college students, bulging with paper and a laptop computer.
The weight of it kept him grounded during his final weeks at The Pontifical College Josephinum rather than distracted by thoughts of his upcoming ordination into the priesthood.
Some days, the bag seemed heavier for Deacon Robert Bolding, in his last year of theology graduate school at the Roman Catholic seminary on the Far North Side.
"There's always something hanging over your head," he said.
The demands and sacrifices asked of clergy greatly reduce the pool of candidates who could help the Catholic church fill voids in the ranks of priests serving a growing U.S. church.
Catholic priests must study four years of theology after earning a four-year college undergraduate degree with a certain number of philosophy credits.
"The rules say any baptized male has a chance to be a priest," said the Rev. Jeff Coning, the vocations director for the Diocese of Columbus. "The reality is, it has to be a baptized male who can get through college."
Not everyone can do so at the Josephinum, where a liberal arts college and theology school have trained more than 1,500 priests since 1888.
"This is a very challenging place academically," said Robert's friend, Deacon Will Schmid of Phoenix. "I had to commit myself academically. It's stressful."
Robert had been a gifted student since graduating from a Jesuit high school in his hometown of Phoenix. He then earned a bachelor's degree in philosophy and Catholic studies at the University of St. Thomas in St. Paul, Minn.
"He's a very bright guy, extraordinarily insightful," said Deacon Michael Ross, the Josephinum's academic dean.
For Robert, 27, the challenge in his final school year was focusing on theory and academic chores with so much ahead of him. He wanted to get out and spread the gospel.
"The temptation for me is to not take school seriously," he said. "But I have a responsibility to God's people to learn as much as I can to better serve the people."
So he listened intently as the Rev. Joseph Murphy, an associate professor, taught Medical Morality, a class deep enough in theology to spin heads.
"Can you tolerate the evil of others?" Murphy asked.
A woman pondered the question along with nine other students, because the Josephinum is open to people of all religions, including lay students, for theological study.
"You have to differentiate between doing an evil thing and being associated with an evil thing," Murphy said.
Robert soaked up the dense lecture, typing notes on his laptop computer.
Nine years in college, and he was still cramming.
• • •
Along one of the narrow hallways inside the Josephinum's administration building you'll find a sign on the academic dean's office door:
"What If the Hokey Pokey Is What It's All About?"
Not much is so light-hearted about the curriculum for Robert and the other 163 students enrolled at the Vatican-owned Josephinum.
"We don't offer under-water basket-weaving," Ross said.
Like the other 45 Catholic seminaries in the U.S., the Josephinum's curriculum must conform to the Program of Priestly Formation set by the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops. The undergraduate program is the liberal arts with extra dashes of language (Spanish, Greek and Latin) and philosophy. The graduate program, as might be expected, is heavy on theology.
"We have to train men so they always think in their minds and hearts of the church," Ross said. "When Robert goes out there as a priest, the people are going to have needs and ask questions that cut across a lot of different courses. He can't call Rome and ask what to do."
Many seminarians are initially taken aback by the course-work demands.
"My first year here, my whole class was pretty stressed out," said Robert, who pursued a masters in divinity. "The academics were very heavy. We weren't accustomed to that kind of pressure."
He adapted, found a groove, and had a veteran's confidence in his final year, when the curriculum was more practical in nature.
Robert's fall schedule of six classes included courses in liturgical chant, pastoral counseling, marriage and family, and a practicum on saying confession. He took a Mass practicum course as part of his six spring classes.
Besides class-work, Robert served on liturgical committees. From October through April, he was assigned to St. Brigid of Kildare Church in Dublin, where he assisted in Sunday Masses and learned from parish leaders.
"We will nurse him along," said St. Brigid pastor Monsignor Joseph Hendricks. "Robert is a project for us."
And he's a costly project.
Robert attended graduate school free. His $24,000 tuition, fees, and room-and-board were paid for by the Diocese of Phoenix, his home diocese, as is typical for seminarians.
The Josephinum raised another $20,000 to $25,000 to cover Robert's annual living costs. The cost for undergraduates is somewhat less.
On average, the Josephinum spends about $17,000 on each seminarian each year, and that money must be raised by the school because the Vatican doesn't provide financial support.
Making ends meet is a never-ending challenge for the school and many of its students.
• • •
The clerk was in full sales-pitch mode as Robert stared at clerical robes on display in a Grandview Heights store.
"This one is $645," said Phyllis Nentwich, owner of Generations: Religious Gifts and Church Supplies. "This one is fairly nice. Then there are ones like this for $325."
Robert wasn't taking the bait. He had come to be measured for a vestment he had a selected online to wear during the first Mass he'd say as a priest.
His family bought him the $750 garment, made by a woman in Australia, as an ordination gift.
"I don't want a lot," he said. "I really believe priests should live simply."
Robert had lived that way for four years at the Josephinum, where rules prohibit having a job during the school year. He earned some money by working at parishes in Phoenix during summer breaks.
The Diocese of Phoenix gave Robert a $500 stipend each semester. His grandmother and parents - father Al, who runs a printing press, and mother Patty, a hardware and software saleswoman - helped with expenses and paid for his plane tickets home.
The Knights of Columbus, a Catholic fraternal group, occasionally sent him money. And sometimes he received checks for $25 or $50 in the mail from strangers.
"We're kind of like bums," Robert said. "We really live on people's generosity. That's how we get by."
His lifestyle as a priest likewise will be simple.
After ordination, the Diocese of Phoenix will pay Robert $1,100 per month and provide free health insurance. He'll have to buy his own car but will receive $800 a month for gas and insurance. His parish will provide meals.
At the Josephinum, Robert ate many meals at the campus dining hall. He had enough spending money to buy books, go to movies and grab a beer with friends. He had his own computer and cell phone but no stereo or TV.
When not wearing his black clerical garb, Robert usually lounged in flip-flops, shorts or jeans, casual shirts, fleece sweaters and a Notre Dame ball cap.
"I have less clothes every year," he said. "I haven't bought a non-clerical shirt in probably two years. All my shirts have holes in them because they're so worn thin. The guys make fun of me."
Still, Robert was able to afford a few trips during his final school-year and stayed free with friends in New York City, Washington, D.C., Philadelphia, and an Alabama monastery.
All seminarians have a safety net in case of emergencies. The fund is refilled each year when the Josephinum invites the public to its annual Irish Festival in February. It raised $12,000 this year, and it all goes to seminarians in need.
The Josephinum relies on financial donations because, unlike most seminaries in the U.S., it isn't affiliated with a diocese or religious order to help with expenses.
For more than 20 years, the seminary has received aid from The Friends of the Josephinum and the Jessing Society, local groups. An annual Rectors Dinner raises money, too.
"From a financial standpoint, there are a lot of challenges here, but it always seems to work out," said Josephinum treasurer John Erwin, who oversaw $1.5 million in fund-raising in fiscal 2008.
The same was true for Robert, who nearly ran out of spending money at times, but, "Then, by the grace of God, some checks came in."
Last November, he had enough money to browse at the religious store for items he'd soon need to do his life's work - but not enough for some of the high-ticket items.
He wandered past displays of black shirts, candles, and resin incense. He looked at a travel Mass kit.
The store owner smiled.
"Have you got your chalice yet?" she asked Robert.
Any original material on these pages is copyright © BishopAccountability.org 2004. Reproduce freely with attribution.