How Do Seminarian Pillars of Formation Apply to Anyone Seeking a Deeper Spiritual Life?

The Seminary House on morning in early autumn

When I entered the seminary, a little more than a month ago, I expected to experience challenges that would draw me out of myself, and that would demand that I see the big picture and live for others. I knew that the challenges of seminary life would not allow me to take a single moment for granted, as each moment is pregnant with eternity. I did not expect, however, that the process of formation in the seminary would provide me with lessons that apply to everyone, and that could deepen the lives of every Christian, yet this is what is happening. The same things that are important to the formation of seminarians are important, in a general way, to the formation of anyone seeking a deeper spiritual life.

The four pillars of formation in the seminary are human formation, which involves deepening the ability see and feel the world from somebody else’s perspective; intellectual formation, which involves deepening our curiosity about the world and ideas; spiritual formation, which involves deepening our interior life and our life of prayer; and pastoral formation, involving caring for others and attending to their needs. It is convenient to think about each of these pillars in separation, but they are actually inseparable. We either weaken or strengthen these attributes by everything we think, say and do – or fail to do.

This past week provided many opportunities to deepen these four pillars of formation. The seminarians were fortunate to be among the Pittsburgh pilgrims, led by Bishop David Zubik, to the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception in Washington, D.C. This pilgrimage was an opportunity to deepen our prayer life. Not only did pilgrims pray the Rosary and the Liturgy of the Hours as we traveled to D.C., our prayers continued as we visited each of the shrines contained on the two levels of the Basilica. There were priests available, around the Crypt Church, to hear confessions and confer the Sacrament of Reconciliation.

(This is part of a revised and more complete version of an op-ed piece that appeared The Pittsburgh Catholic Newspaper on October 10, 2014)

My Mother's Role in My Spiritual Formation

Both my Mother and my Father Taught in the University

of Pittsburgh in the School of Social Work. This 

Photo was probably taken in the 1970s or early 80s

My Mother’s Influence

While both my father and my maternal grandmother were essential to my brother and my early spiritual formation, the person who spent the most time with us, and who undoubtedly had the biggest influence on our lives, was my mother. My mother grew up as an only child. She absorbed lessons about her church and the Bible from her parents, both of whom were deeply involved in the ministry of their church. Growing up as a minister’s daughter, however, she was reluctant to become a minister’s wife. She saw how minister’s wives had to be perfect hostesses and how their lives were always on public display, being carefully scrutinized by everyone in the community. My mother, as a young adult, wanted more breathing room. Before she married my father she made him promise that he would forgo the Hawkins family tradition and never enter the clergy. My father agreed to this condition, but began to have doubts when the couple found it difficult to conceive.  My father prayed for a son and promised God that if his prayers were answered he would go into the ministry. Soon afterward, my older brother was conceived and my mother found herself entertaining guests in our home as a newly ordained minister’s wife.

Had I not known the story behind their marriage I never would have suspected that my mother became a clergyman’s wife reluctantly. She threw herself wholly in all of the responsibilities that come with this particular form of ministry. She taught Sunday school, organized women’s literary meetings, volunteered for charitable services and assisted my father in visiting the sick and the bereaved, this in addition to raising two boys and teaching at the university. My grandmother’s passion for the poor influenced my mother also. Her professional career centered on working with children in poverty, which led her to devote a lot of her attention to programs to promote education. She brought these skills and passions with her, in her role as a minister’s wife. She organized programs in her church to promote education.

My mother’s vision of faith was decidedly ecumenical and receptive to interfaith dialogue. It was from her that I learned to appreciate how essential faith is to the cultural life of a society and a community. She saw to it that my brother and I would grow up with broad religious exposure. She enrolled us in a Unitarian nursery school, a Jewish weekend and summer camp, Catholic elementary and middle schools, a Quaker high school, and accompanied our attendance at Presbyterian, Lutheran and Anglican services and Roman Catholic Masses. When it came time for me to make a decision about whether or not I would pursue my long-established interest in Roman Catholicism my mother became my confidante and sounding board; both parents, in the end, were models of support.

(From My Spiritual Autobiography)

How My Grandmother Influenced My Spiritual Formation

This picture of my Grandmother was no doubt taken before I was born

My maternal grandfather, Matthew Levi Emanuel, was a Baptist minister and a school teacher. He died within a year of my birth. My maternal grandmother, however, lived to see both of her grandchildren grow into young adults. My grandmother was a devout member of her church and she was a powerful role-model of faith for my brother and me. The Bible was the center of her life. I never heard her raise her voice in anger when we were around and I very rarely saw her lose her temper. She lived a modest and orderly life. When she had a house, she kept everything in order. As she got older, and moved into an apartment, she had few possessions, beyond what she felt she really needed. She had a particular passion for the poor and the unfortunate. Whenever we were with her and we passed a homeless person, or someone with a severe disability, on the street she would say to us, “There, but for the grace of God, go I.” She selflessly volunteered her time and energy for service and outreach in her church.

My grandmother believed in simplicity and was not wasteful. I think this grew out of her compassion for those who were less fortunate. It seemed, to her, particularly sinful to waste the resources that we had while others had to do without. One day, when my parents were away and she was babysitting, I was playing in the attic with the light on in the middle of day. I must have been in third grade at that time. My grandmother came up the steps and turned out the light, telling me not to waste electricity because the only light I needed in the middle of the day was “God’s light”. I remember the sun shining through the window pane, flooding the room with natural light, and thinking to myself, “But our light is better than God’s light.”

(From my Spiritual Autobiography)