Universities often promise they will “prepare students to be leaders,” but it’s not clear how much progress either the teachers or the learners are making. How can we cultivate a crop of graduates with a spectrum of skills, solutions, and virtues when there’s barely any core curriculum and we find few professors who can serve as holistic role models?
Observe the alternative. The seemingly narrower project of training people for particular professions tends to be much more concrete. The protocols—in med school, law school, etc.—have passed the test of time. At their best, these professional schools can help students build strong and broad foundations for the specific ladders about to be climbed.
The advantage of these institutions springs only partly from the metrics they impose and the content of their courses. They immerse their aspirants in a matrix of experiences—internships, study groups, hospital rounds, 12-hour shifts, and much more—which combine concreteness with a less tangible quality.
They help to instill identity, focus, and curiosity; a sense of connectedness, resilience, and responsibility; a concern about the people and principles to be served; and a readiness to address those needs with analysis, not paralysis.
Professor Charles Kingsfield (John Houseman) said it best in The Paper Chase. He told his first-year law students: “You come in here with a skull full of mush, and you leave thinking like a lawyer.”
In that 1973 film, he cautioned that, in his class, “you will never find the correct, absolute, and final answer.” He promised that, through constant questioning, “you learn to teach yourselves.”
That’s why I’m interested in the recent efforts in the Catholic hierarchy—at the Vatican and among U.S. bishops—to refine the work of seminaries where male college graduates study to become priests.
In light of a scatterbrained secular culture, the incomplete formation we provide to rising generations in our families and classrooms, and the need for priests who can be spiritual “fathers” for their congregations, the bishops promulgated in 2022 a Program for Priestly Formation.
One result now seen at the nation’s numerous seminaries is a tightly structured “propaedeutic (prop-a-doo-tic) year” as the first stage of training. That hefty Greek term might scare away some guys, but it’s a compelling idea not only for future priests, but for laypeople of both sexes. We all need to build a frame of mind that prepares us for a healthy, happy, and vigorous life.
Propaedeutics simply means an introduction—furnishing the knowledge necessary before one becomes a “disciple” delving into any discipline.
America’s educators (including parents) might ponder the need to integrate such a “back to basics” vision in the formation of citizens, public servants, and contributive community members of every sort.
How do the seminaries intend to perform this service for priests? Not surprisingly, the steps occur on multiple dimensions of development—human, spiritual, intellectual, and pastoral.
The most remarkable propaedeutic requirement touches all those dimensions. It is essentially a “media fast,” which sounds revolutionary and “radical,” in terms of being “at the roots” of personhood.
College graduates entering St. Charles Borromeo Seminary in Wynnewood, PA, for example, “will have extensive restrictions placed on their media use, including phones, tablets, computers, television, radio, music, and movies.”
As described at the seminary’s website, “an appropriate amount of technology use will be allowed at various intervals.” But the fasting “facilitates freedom to be guided by the Holy Spirit, to initiate quality interpersonal interactions and conversations, to expand personal capacity to be present to others in the moment, and to fortify healthy forms of leisure.”
The description continues: “While encouraging a balanced approach to internet use, the fast also promotes recovery from addictions or excessive reliance upon it.”
A combination of historical knowledge, pessimistic expectation, and optimistic imagination conjures up a scenario in which priests of the future will help to form a bulwark against technocratic tyrannies symbolized by the Terminator, the Matrix, the Hunger Games, and the dark predictions for artificial intelligence.
Whatever one may think about the Church as a flawed human institution, or as a force that either advanced/preserved or opposed/corrupted the progress of Western civilization, it’s appealing to think there is a Plan B for post-modernism if we sleepwalk our way toward an apocalypse.
R.R. Reno, editor of First Things magazine, says the current cultural moment can be called “The Great Forgetting.” He worries that college courses in foreign languages, history, and much of the humanities are being replaced by post-humanism, criticism and doubt, and the rhetoric of advocacy.
“We look to ‘theories,’ not just to solve technical and economic problems, but also to manage society, even our souls,” he wrote this month. “It’s interesting to note that the task of remembering is now largely taken up by religious people.”
Those lukewarm about the legacy of our civilization should at least agree on the desirability of contrarians who can use traditional values to interrogate current trends. Vaccinated against social contagions whose surge could sweep away individual human dignity, this group of questioners could be a rescue team in the marketplace of ideas.
I don’t think the bishops harbor this kind of vainglorious intention for the “media fast.” They merely want the Church to respond constructively to alienation, groupthink, and all the dangers of “screen time” proven by plenty of secular research.
And they see today’s project in a panoramic context that aims for wholeness and wellness—among aspiring priests as well as layfolk who must turn somewhere for Good News when evil and suffering strike.
Here are other aspects of the bishops’ propaedeutic outline for seminarians, in the words of the Borromeo website:
· The daily schedule of these aspirants will “strengthen them in habits of prayer and liturgical life, self-knowledge, self-sacrifice, good health, faith-filled communal living, joyful fellowship, teamwork, personal responsibility, initiative, discipline, simplicity, silence, and detachment.”
· On the intellectual front, the novices will receive instruction in such subjects as Scripture, theology, history, catechetics, and the Spanish language.
· As preparation to be pastors, and to be pastoral, the men will visit and work in various parishes, participate in pilgrimages and retreats, and gain exposure to Catholic art and culture, where one discovers truth in beauty.
· Extending beyond the Church bubble, a month-long experience will engage them in “meeting and serving Christ in the poor.”
· “Throughout this year, the seminarian’s formation will be crafted to help the man comprehend who he is as a loved son of the Father while confronting whatever may be blinding him to this truth.”
Are you ready to sign up? Are you surprised that such an enterprise, both well-defined and vast, can be packed into one year?
Actually, it sounds like a time of remarkable liberation which everyone can experience differently. Sure, all students are taught with the same syllabus. But they are placed in locations and situations where each person can encounter the Holy Spirit in a unique way, sparking reflection to remember. Also, community life makes mentoring ubiquitous. Call now! Spiritual directors are standing by!
Of course, there will be rigor over the long haul. These students’ formation will continue throughout their seminary years, which include lots of intellectual exercise. They will be ordained as deacons, doing the nitty-gritty work of parish life for one year, before they are given the green light for priestly ordination.
But the point of all this is that man’s search for meaning begins with embracing reality (not the artificial kind). The initial phase, here called propaedeutics, is akin to the anchoring we all should receive as we grow up, regardless of one’s religion.
How many people receive this anchoring nowadays? We can guess that much of the suffering we see in society today—the anxiety, depression, confusion, addiction, isolation, narcissism, violence, and psychological distress—traces back to the lack of family stability, dynamic community, deep conversation, and visceral memory which otherwise could soften our hearts for learning.
Fewer people are turning to the Church as a house built on solid ground. But Catholics believe they are mandated to remain present as a resource responding to all people’s needs—and as a structure of unique relationships with Jesus Christ.
The intensive-care stewardship of the priesthood for this purpose is what intrigues me about the propaedeutic year. I also admire the seminaries for undertaking this task despite previous problems and cultural/psychological/financial excuses for giving up.
Most of all, I appreciate the Church reminding us that a priestly formation which liberates and disciplines us for the sake of truth is a useful model for everyone.
Outside the campus gates, this challenge falls largely on our shoulders. We must search out ways to develop self-knowledge, self-sacrifice, and genuine joy, taking tips from seminaries. We need these traits to fulfill our own vocational assignments and to accompany others who may struggle to make the honor roll.
Our “year” of preparation will go on ad infinitum. St. Francis of Assisi once told his friar-followers: “Let us begin to do good, for as yet we have done little.” We start the journey with “a skull full of mush,” and only gradually do we grow into nimble, attentive disciples for the Kingdom of God.
Let’s call seminaries “professional schools” because they empower people to make professions of faith. Each graduating class is a cadre ready to identify what and whom we believe in, and why and how we will proceed. We can be in the crowd applauding at commencement, reassuring a mushy-minded society that the Judeo-Christian tradition is planted on solid ground, common ground.
Much of the support we’ll offer is admittedly intangible, such as our verve for questions and answers, and a spirit of love and hope. Nevertheless, our home-schooling will prove more substantive than other curricula promoting “leaders” whose talents are seldom fully invested.
We should prefer the inspiration of servant-leadership—interactions which are harder to undertake and even harder for universities to advertise. Full investment in personhood may require a “media fast,” abstinence from our self-centered tendencies, and sacrificial commitments to everyday kindness. We need to form, not wear, good habits so that our neighbors recognize us as first-responders.
All it takes is a clear-minded, big-picture orientation. Fed by a daily dose of propaedeutics to refresh memory and boost energy, we can emerge from Kingsfield’s regimen thinking like a faithful “professor.”
Image from ClipSafari.com, a collection of Creative Commons designs.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Phronesis in Pieces to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.