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by Philip Pullella Seminarians at Rome's Pontifical North American College seek a prayerful attitude and pastoral outlook as they prepare for future service to the Church
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Msgr. Kevin McCoy, rector, welcomes Supreme Knight Anderson on a recent visit to the NAC. It has been called the "West Point of Seminaries." Tell that to the students of the Pontifical North American College in Rome, though, and they'll say that perhaps the only thing resembling a military regimen is the pre-dawn wake-up call. "In terms of discipline and daily life we probably have one of the earliest prayers and Masses in Rome, at 6:15," jokes Michael A. DeAscanis, a 33-year-old deacon studying for the Archdiocese of Baltimore and a member of St. Bartholomew Council 9127 in Manchester, Md. And yet more than one comparison can be made. Both sit atop lofty positions. The NAC (affectionately pronounced "the knack" by those who know it), rests on one of the Eternal City's hills, the Janiculum. It has a commanding position over the Tiber River just as West Point dominates New York’s Hudson River Valley. And, as much as the staff and students try to downplay the association with the elite military academy, both institutions say they are forging a few good men. Seminarians do not ask to study at the NAC. They are chosen by their bishops to undergo spiritual and pastoral formation there while they study at the city's historic pontifical universities such as the Gregorian, the Angelicum and the Alphonsianum. The aim is to develop a lifelong understanding of the workings of the Holy See, to be ambassadors of the Catholic Church in the United States and to develop a particular bond with the papacy. "Their bishops saw them as good men with a lot of promise, men who are stable in what they want to do and who they are, and sent them here because they are going to be educated in a real global sense," says the rector, Msgr. Kevin McCoy, 49, a NAC alum, native of Jefferson, Iowa, and member of Epiphany Council 743 in Sioux City. "For most of these men, coming here for four or five years is truly life-changing. They come away with a new sense of who they are and what they are called to do." |
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Pope Pius IX founded the North American College in 1859 when the United States was 83 years old. "Pius IX wanted to have young men from the United States train for the priesthood here in Rome so they would not be foreign to it, so they would know what the Holy See is all about," says Msgr. McCoy. Although 145 years separate them, the aim of the students, then and now, is the same: to learn about the global Church and at the same time be a link between Rome and the United States. (Editor's Note: There also are pontifical colleges in Rome for seminarians from Mexico and Canada, among others. The NAC, Mexican and Canadian pontifical colleges each receive annual grant funding from the Knights of Columbus.) "I think one of the greatest experiences of being here is the contact with the universal Church," says Avelino Gonzalez, of Maryland. "You see the whole Church and people from different parts of the world. In class you can meet people from the Congo, the Philippines and Scandinavia. … No longer is the focus just on U.S. issues or your own diocese. You're really exposed to this global entity and beauty that that entails. It is mind-boggling to see the vastness of the Catholic Church and to see that in all that diversity there’s this profound unity." The men say their experience at the NAC gives them a perspective that they can bring back to their diocese and share with their brother priests in the United States, a perspective that is complementary rather than contradictory. Gonzalez studies at the Jesuit-run Pontifical Gregorian University, known in the English-speaking community as "The Greg." In fact, Americans have shorthand names for many of Rome's universities. The Angelicum, for example, is "The Ange." The Rome universities provide academic formation in theology, philosophy, sociology and anthropology. "But we teach them a lot about pastoral life and the practical reality of the priesthood," says Msgr. McCoy, whose straight talk is a credit to his surname. "We get down to the nitty-gritty. The universities play a fundamental role, but we teach them where the rubber meets the road. We can't do it all. We can’t tell them what to expect every time the doorbell rings after they become priests, but we try." About 75 of the Latin Rite dioceses in the United States are currently represented among the students of the NAC. Of the 14 staff members, five are spiritual directors and five are formation advisers. |
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As in any seminary, every vocation tells a story. At 39, Gonzalez, a Cuban-born American from the Archdiocese of Washington, D.C., is a late vocation. He had a good career and a good job, and his friends wondered why he would want to leave it all. "I think the questions are a reflection of the culture itself in a country that is so rich materially, where people are calling their investment brokers every day to check their portfolio. In a culture that is so bottom-line driven it’s easy to figure out why they are asking 'Why aren’t you doing the same thing as all of us? Why aren’t you worried about the nice retirement and the summer house? What, are you nuts?' There is no other explanation except that something supernatural happens when you have a vocation," he says. "The other thing that people can’t understand is celibacy," he adds. "The culture is so sexually and sensually saturated that the idea of a man giving his life to God, including his sexuality, is so radical that people question it. … They can’t understand that. It's so radical, it's the radical part of the Gospel." Christopher M. Mahar, 33, a deacon from Providence, R.I., and member of Msgr. Peter Blessing Council 5273 in Coventry, also had his share of funny looks when he told friends he wanted to be a priest. "They wanted to know why I would want to waste my life by acting in the person of Christ, seeing Jesus Christ in the Eucharist, serving God and forgiving people's sins. That is such an odd question from someone who is Catholic. I told them, 'If you consider that a waste of a life you have no faith at all. You are only focused on this life and have no sense of the supernatural.'" James Lease, 28, of Harrisburg, Pa., was a Methodist until he attended the Mass Pope John Paul II celebrated in New York's Central Park during his 1995 pastoral visit to the United States. "I said to myself: ‘Here is someone who is preaching the Gospel. He has been an icon for all of us, a witness to hope. I think he is the greatest advertisement the Catholic Church has and we really haven’t used him to his potential in the United States. We apologize for him instead of showing him to our other brothers and sisters. In fact, sometimes our Protestant brothers and sisters respond more favorably to him than Catholics at home,” Lease says. The other men at the NAC also say John Paul has been a beacon for them and for their vocations. For most, he is the only pope they have ever known. Luke Tomson, 22, of Spokane, Wash., was born three years after John Paul was elected. The pope's presence is felt every day at the NAC, which has one of Rome's nicest and closest views of the dome of St. Peter's Basilica. "I had not realized how much the pope was part of my consciousness. By being here, you feel like you are neighbors," says Karl Bissinger, 33, of Fall River, Mass. "This guy has experienced so much. But when I read Gift and Mystery [a papal letter on his priesthood], I could see his joy in being a priest," says Mahar. "He rejoiced in the priesthood, not in the papacy. And I said 'Oh my goodness, this is what I feel called to, this is what I’m applying to the seminary for. This is the pope and he's excited by the very same thing." The Knights of Columbus gave seminarians at the NAC and in the United States and Canada a special edition of Gift and Mystery in honor of the 25th anniversary of Pope John Paul II's election (see related story page 18). |
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Keeping vocations on track costs money and the NAC has many supporters among the American community in Rome and benefactors on both sides of the Atlantic who help meet the $7 million yearly budget. Traditionally, the serving American ambassador to the Vatican is one of its greatest cheerleaders. "We have to thank those who had the vision to put a seminary over here," says the current envoy, Jim Nicholson, a member of Denver Council 539. "I think it fits the future leaders of the Church in America to study at the great universities here, to be familiar and comfortable with the hierarchy of the central Church and for the hierarchy to get to know these burgeoning leaders from the United States." In the past three years since the sex abuse scandal exploded in the United States, the seminarians, whether they will return to be diocesan officials or parish priests, have had to deal with it. Msgr. McCoy recalls: "I told the first class that returned to the States after the scandal broke: 'I don't know what you are going to find at home but go there, you know who you are, be what you need to be. Be priests for these people. Do what we've trained you to do.' "Now, in 2004, the newest classes are not so concerned because they have been home since then, they've done parish work, they know the people and they know the people love the priest." In fact, the students say the scandal galvanized them. "A lot of people say it must be very hard to be called to be a priest at this time," says Mahar. "My response is simple. This is the exact time that God has called me to be a priest and for good reason. This is his good will, his timing. This is something I need to trust, so I would not want to be a priest at any other time." But they also realize their work has been cut out for them. "Those of us who are being ordained after this bad news don't take anything for granted," says DeAscanis. "We can't take the faithful for granted. They are going to be questioning us and so we have to prove ourselves and we have to prove the Church to them and prove the goodness of God, the forgiveness of God, the power of grace. That can be a benefit to us newly ordained priests because it's an added incentive and motivation. We know that there's a lot of faith and trust that needs to be regained. And so, as is always the case, through anything bad and anything evil, something good can come from it if we’re able to recognize what that is." In fact, the students say that despite the difficulties they may find back home and throughout their lives, they pray to remain faithful to the motto on the college’s coat of arms: Firmum est cor meum — My heart is steadfast. Philip Pullella, a Reuters correspondent in Rome, was associate editor and lead writer of the book, Pope John Paul — Reaching Out Across Borders (2003: Prentice Hall). |
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