1957 THOUGHTS OF ENTERING THE SEMINARY

This Post first appeared on 23rd November, 2011. I am repeating it to give some depth to my FB Cover Picture for this week, and further Posts will deepen that.

YOURS TRULY WEARING HOLY NAME SOCIETY BADGE
READY FOR THE SEMINARY - NEEDS A BLACK TIE
CAN A BIRETTA BE MADE TO FIT SIZE 6 7/8ths?

1957. -  TO THE SEMINARY

For a very long time, I had hoped to become a Priest. It was not a casually, or even easily, formed idea. Rather, it was one that I struggled with. I have very clear recollections of a long period in which sermons on the need for Priestly vocations used to really upset my peace of mind, and cause pangs of conscience because I had put the idea out of my head for a time.

I suppose the preparation of the "ground" to receive the seed of the idea, dated back to my very early childhood and the time of my First Holy Communion at age 7. From that time on Our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament has captured my heart, soul and mind, and has, mercifully, never let go even in times of very great distress. Naturally, loving Our Lord, I loved the Catholic Church in which we are one with Him as He has intended. So, it seems to me, it would not have been a large leap to be attracted to the idea of Priesthood.

But the decision is not that simple, and one must always be open to what God wants us to do, not simply what we might want to do. And this balance is worked out in many and various ways, not always predictable.

I believe it was in Second Year of High School in 1953, at Marist Brothers High School Lidcombe that the idea of becoming a Priest first crystallized in my mind. The Archdiocesan Vocations Director visited the School and spoke to the senior classes. I don't recall his name - it may have been Father Enright (? - probably not). Anyway, he was a good and sincere Priest, not at all pre-possessing or charismatic - just your ordinary meat and potatoes sort of Aussie. He spoke to those of us interested, individually. No conclusions were reached of course, but I was a contact to be followed and glad to be such.

In 1954 there was a new Vocations Director, Father Kevin McGovern a short man with reddish hair. I admired him very much. He was a typical hard-working Aussie Priest of that time, and Chaplain to the large migrant community in the Chullora/Greenacre area. Chullora's principal claim to fame was the massive Railway Workshops located on the large triangle of land bounded on the North by the Regents Park to Enfield Marshalling Yards goods line, and on the South-East by Liverpool Road. Across the railway to the North lay the immense Rookwood Cemetery, one of the largest in the world.

Father McGovern lived an austere, tough life. From time to time small groups of prospective Seminary entrants visited him for a few hours in his home. It was either a demountable or a large caravan (I can't focus my mental picture closely enough to say which, but there was scarcely room to move).It was very cramped. He had no real privacy. Since his "home" was sited on Workshops land, he had a steady stream of those in his care coming to the door. It was an excellent introduction to the unglamorous aspects of the life of a Priest. It certainly gave the lie to the later glib jeers of false "spirit of the Council" types about "Sacristy Priests “ in their imagined pre Conciliar Church! His was a tough life, but with his strong Faith, he was the man for it. He obviously loved it. Father spoke some Italian and, through various multilingual workers this gave him the ability to communicate with workers from many countries. These were the days of almost exclusively European migration. I vividly recall him relating how one of his co-operants had complained to him that "it is impossible to teach some of these people English - they don't even speak their own language properly!"

St Patrick's College Manly
(the flags show it is a post Seminary days photo)

Father McGovern arranged for groups of us to attend open days at great Saint Patrick's College Manly, the Major Seminary. It's massive sandstone pile dominated the scene above Manly Beach - the building still does but, on a long term lease, it is now a Catering College (thanks? To Cardinal Clancy).Its very beautiful Chapel with seating arranged in Choir is still impressive ( though to turn a buck as the Americans say, it is hired out for weddings, as in the case of Nicole Kidman etc.)

Then, in 1956, Father took us on a tour of the Minor Seminary, Saint Columba's at Springwood on the Blue Mountains. We went up by car and entered the Seminary through the formal gateway and up the curved driveway. We were greeted at the entrance by the gregarious Dr George Joyner whose deep booming voice would become very familiar. Although not built on the heroic lines of Manly, the Minor Seminary was impressive and ordered around a quadrangle with a fine Chapel off it's Western side. Once again, the Chapel seating was arranged in Choir and this was quite a novelty for most of us. Before we were shown around the Seminary the formidable Rector, Monsignor "Charlie" Dunne joined us and cast a critical eye over his prospective charges.

St.Columba's Minor Seminary Springwood
(the Sign behind the car was not there when it was a Seminary- a "sign of the (bad) times I guess)

Many tales are told of the legendary Monsignor Dunne. One I enjoy, which comes out of a long gone tradition of spiritual rigor and testing, involved calling a student to his office. As the student entered, he would inevitably be confronted by a letter "dropped" on the floor. If he chose to helpfully pick it up, he would be challenged for suggesting that the Rector kept an untidy office! If he ignored it he would be berated for being thoughtless and sloppy!

At least he would always treat the Rector with greater caution!

Monsignor Dunne had a habit of holding the bottom corner of the cape like lapel of his cassock with his left hand, which became a cypher for those mimicking him to show who their intended target was. But that lay in the future.

Toward the end of 1956 the time arrived to make a formal application for admission to the Seminary. This brought to a head the question of my parents' attitude to what I had intended. Both my Mum and Dad were opposed. I am sure that it was a matter of genuine concern for what they believed was in my best interest. But, in time, first Mum and then Dad came to reluctantly agree to my seeking entry to the Seminary. This meant that I needed to obtain a reference from our Parish Priest the Irish born Father Con Donovan, whom I had known since my childhood.

A giant of a gift from Ireland
Parish Priest Father Con Donovan
and at his feet LH Corner of pic -Yours Truly
after First Holy Communion 1947

But, as a family we were not "Churchy" people, and certainly not ones to have close relations to the Clergy or Religious - or, for that matter, to anyone else outside of family! So that contacts with our PP were always at the formal level.

When I was about 7 or 8 Father had asked me after Mass one weekday if I would be an Altar Server. I desperately wanted to say "Yes!", but I was painfully shy and had always had it drummed into me not to be pushy. So I said "No thank you." Father tried once more to convince me, but when I again said "No" he put no pressure on me and let the matter drop. I can recall sometime later the School Principal Sister Austin, whose favourite I believe I was, expressing disappointment at my decision - I think she had been the promoter of the idea. She was always very kind to me and I loved her soft Irish accent and the lilting way she call led me "An'tny" . God rest her Soul.

Then after a year or so, Father entrusted me one morning after Mass to carry the Mass Kit up to the Presbytery. Such was the state of my excitement at this Sacred Trust, that I stumbled unseen as I crossed the grassy paddock, and the box fell to the ground. It appeared undamaged so I said nothing. a week or so later, Father asked me one morning after Mass, if anything had happened to the box when I carried it. I had to tell him. "Ah well, that's it!" Said he. "There is a small dent in the Chalice, but I shall be able to get it fixed -don't worry. Thanks!" And that was that. No recriminations, not even a grim look - Pastor Bonus!

So I made an appointment and at the due time went to the Presbytery where Father Donovan told me he would be happy to provide me with a recommendation. We spoke about the fact that another young Parishoner was about to enter another Seminary and then Father reminisced about his own time at All Hallows Seminary in Ireland. I recall him saying that the Rector there had forced the abandonment of Gaelic Football because the violence it provoked was contrary to Christian Charity. When the time came to leave, I found great difficulty in getting up out of the Lounge Chair in the Presbytery Study. It was so constructed that the seat was very close to the floor. It was very comfortable to sit in but left one flailing around like a maniac trying to get up!

First Australian born Archbishop of Sydney __ Norman Thomas Cardinal Gilroy who enlisted in WWI by lowering his age, with Father Con Donovan
at the Blessing and opening of one of the many Church buildings erected in Father's hard working , self-effacing time.

In due course I received a letter from the Seminary requiring me to present myself  at Saint Mary's Cathedral for interview. I arrived in good time on the appointed day, and found that the interviews were to be conducted in the Sacristy area . There was a large number of us, and we gathered in a passageway off the Sacristy sitting on long pews.I recall one of the students was greatly excited about his forthcoming visit to the Melbourne Olympic Games. He is now a Priest in Sydney's West.

Finally I was ushered into the Sacristy where the interviewing panel was headed by no less a person than the Archbishop, Cardinal Norman Gilroy. Monsignor Dunne was also there and Dr. Joyner I believe , but I couldn't vouch for the rest. But I think there were five in all.The word SILENCE in large red letters dominated the Sacristy.

His Eminence did almost all the talking, perhaps after a brief introduction by the Rector. He was the soul of kindness and generosity of spirit. He understood that I had gone to Marist Brothers Darlinghurst (about 14 miles from my home)to preserve my Latin and knew that was a token of my earnest intention. But he was concerned at the "great difficulty" such lengthy travel to and fro each day must have been. I had never thought much about it. But I was mightily impressed that a Cardinal could think of my personal difficulties.

 In the end I was thanked for attending and told that I would receive a letter in due course. I walked out greatly relieved and joyful, and yet wondering how things would be. A visit to the Blessed Sacrament followed before I went out - into the world it was all about saving.