Is It Possible To Live This Way?

“Is it possible to live this way?” a friend asked me as nine of us seminarians gathered for dinner one late September night. I knew exactly what he meant, even though I hadn’t read Msgr.Giussani’s book by that title. As we sat down around the barbeque and guitar, we all had reason to wonder if life at seminary could possibly be this fulfilling.
 
Before I entered in August I wouldn’t have believed it. Even now, I hesitate. Last year I was working as a journalist in New York City. One look at my schedule showed you work came before anything else. I squeezed my faith and friends in as much as I could; time for prayer was sandwiched between meeting a deadline and the subway ride home. That New York hustle never lacked for excitement, and I miss it sometimes.
 
But I never asked if that life was possible. I knew it was. I was more or less in control at my job, where the rough equation for success was  hard work=more published articles=better year-end reviews. My life in Manhattan was self-sufficient and low-risk. Sure, I was working on 6 ^thAvenue, but I didn’t marvel at it.
 
Nine weeks in, I haven’t stopped marveling at life in the seminary. Hard work is necessary here too, but it is far from sufficient. More important is surrendering control of my path and trusting in a process I don’t entirely understand. The first two months have flung me far above the soil of certainty supporting my previous life. For the first time I am flying, and for the first time I realize I do not have wings.  Is it possible to live this way?
 
Is it possible to center my life on the Eucharist? We spend an hour each day before Our Lord in adoration. Three days into a week, the start of another holy hour can be draining. Can I bring Him the failures of another afternoon? Even my successes are tainted with pride. I try to remember that my only job is to walk through the chapel door and give Him my attention. He will take care of the rest.
 
Is it possible to live in a family of 50? I hadn’t met 47 of my brother seminarians before August, but after two months we’ve made up for lost time. Every weeknight we eat dinner as a family—forty-five minutes and no phones at the table. Our “speaking rule” means we greet each other every time we pass one another in the hallways or on campus. I thought I’d get tired of it, but I’ve grown to need it. The wave of a brother after a tough class can improve my whole morning.
 
Is it possible to reveal my weaknesses instead of concealing them? In the working world, my supervisor was the last person I would confide in. Here, my spiritual director should be the first. The best—and scariest—advice I’ve gotten about spiritual direction is to bring up whatever topic you are most afraid to bring up. We were given a talk a couple weeks ago on chastity and reminded that the devil feeds on darkness and confusion. Our formators dare us to live in the light.
 
Is it possible to surrender control? I alone decided to quit my job, but it won’t be me alone deciding to be a priest. The Church discerns along with me. Our culture calls leaving school before graduation a failure, but that’s not true for seminary. Discerning well God’s will is what counts, no matter where it leads.
 
Is it possible to live this way? May God give us all the grace to trust in the answer written in our hearts.

To read last week's article on John Paul II-- The Wonder of Wojtyla--please click here. Posts are published every Tuesday.