Cynical Hearts in Need of Healing
Seminaries can be a place of tremendous growth for a man discerning a call to the priesthood. Even if someone eventually recognizes that he may be called to a different vocation, just a year or two of formation in learning to pray well, think more critically, and live more abundantly in Christ can have a lasting and positive effect on a person’s life. Unfortunately, I think that there can be a darker side to seminary formation that not only affects those who discern to leave, but also those who go on to be ordained.
One of the biggest poisons in need of extraction would be a bitter cynicism that hardens hearts to the point of making it harder and harder to make a gift of self. So much energy is spent interpreting other’s actions as personal attacks or assuming the worst about the behavior of others that little room is left to “love your neighbor as yourself” (Mark 12:31). Not just a single seminarian’s cynicism, but an entire culture of cynicism within a community can lead to such toxicity that the seminary experience is no longer viewed as “a continuation in the Church of the apostolic community gathered about Jesus, listening to his word, proceeding towards the Easter experience, awaiting the gift of the Spirit for the mission” (Program for Priestly Formation 7), and instead is seen as a series of hoops to jump through or as obstacles to be overcome in order to be ordained.
Distorting the process of seminary formation to the point that it is only seen as a self-serving means to an end greatly reduces its potential to form authentically holy men after the very heart of Jesus. A cynical culture turns each person inward, focused only on their own desires to the point that they are blinded to the genuine needs of others. Within this culture we lose our capacity to see others as persons who ought to be loved and instead reduce those around us to enemies who we view only through the warped lenses of competition, comparison, and belittlement.
One incredibly callous phrase that was thrown around while I was in seminary (not just at my seminary, but also in conversations from men from all over the country) was the need for a “biological solution” to what we believed to be the biggest problems in the Church. Bad liturgies, poor catechesis, weak leadership - all that was needed to fix these problems was the “biological solution” - that is, for priests and bishops formed within certain decades of the last century to die in order to make room for those who “know better.” Once certain generations die out, then we can truly see a new springtime in the life of the Church. How absolutely and terrifyingly wicked.
I can see no better indicator of a cynical and toxic culture than a desire for certain people to die in order for a problem to be addressed. The foundational arrogance that this idea is built upon leads to that bitter cynicism that turns people inward and incapable of seeing any good in those around them - especially those that were formed during a different and turbulent time in the Church’s history.
This toxic cynicism needs to be addressed and I think that the first paragraph from the Program for Priestly Formation’s introduction provides an excellent examination of conscience that formators and those being formed can use to evaluate how closely their experience of seminary matches the desires of St. John Paul II and the universal Church.
To say that seminary formation is a continuation of the apostolic community “gathered about Jesus” should immediately strike us as an essential quality that must continually be fostered and deepened within the fraternal life of seminarians. We can only listen to his word if we are close to him. Yes - this means beautiful and reverent liturgies and orthodox classes, but this also means that the community of formators and seminarians live in this close proximity to the heart of Jesus outside of the classroom and chapel walls - being attentive to his word in the midst of all circumstances.
The need to be close to Jesus’ heart is not only true for those discerning to be priests, but for every single person - especially if we find that our hearts have become hardened by a cynical attitude that easily dismisses others. This can take place in families where we have convinced ourselves that it is acceptable to rip each other apart behind one another’s backs, complaining about spouses or parents (or parents-in-law). Community life begins to disintegrate when it is not gathered around Jesus - this is true in seminary formation as well as in the home.
So, how can we gather around Jesus?
What does this practically look like?
Over the course of this last semester, I have watched The Chosen series with a group of friends and in many ways I cannot help but think how well the show (perhaps unintentionally) reflects the beauty and challenges of discerning a priestly vocation in seminary. I found this especially in the third episode of the second season as we see the disciples assembling their camp while at the same time offering crowd control for the multitudes that came to be healed by Jesus. Throughout the episode we hear the characters reflect on why Jesus chose them (a constant theme throughout the series) as well as how radically different encountering the Messiah is from what they expected it to be. Over the course of the episode, we see truly vulnerable sharing of past failures and a recognition of limitations and weaknesses. Eventually, some underlying tensions boil over and accusations are made and the shouting begins. Jesus, who has been healing people throughout the day and most of the night, finally appears for the first time in this episode - almost stumbling to his tent, exhausted from the work he had been doing all day. Not only does his presence immediately halt the shouting, but I think that the disciples, seeing how he had poured everything of himself into those who needed him, leads to a much needed examination of their hearts. The episode ends without any kind of resolution to the fractured relationship between the apostles, but seeing the effects of a life lived in sacrifice for others immediately re-orders the attitudes and priorities of those following Jesus.
When our hearts become hardened we can’t give them away - they become embedded in the cavernous tombs of our chests. Seeing sacrificial love - a pouring out of self for the sake of others - it changes us. It becomes a mirror by which we can examine our own willingness (or lack thereof) to give of ourselves totally - to truly lay down our lives out of love for others. The antidote to bitter cynicism is self-gift, given to us first by Jesus himself and then emulated by each one of us in our daily lives.
When we meditate on the crucifix, we can pray that our hearts may be conformed to his - that any cynicism that has made its way into our hearts may be confronted by the very real and personal love of Christ pouring himself out on the Cross. This is the Easter experience - it begins with the ultimate expression of self-gift of Jesus on the Cross and it propels us forward to the Spirit-filled mission of Pentecost.
If you find that cynicism has taken deep root in your life or in the culture in which you live, look for opportunities to make a gift of yourself. Find an avenue through which you can freely pour yourself into others. It may take time for your heart to soften, but eventually you will find that loving becomes easier and easier the more you do it. We can also be a sign of the cross for others - a sign of self-gift that softens hearts and orders us towards the good. Instead of having a disordered heart that only looks inward, our hearts become ordered outward for the sake of the mission to share his love, to make known his love, to be his love for the sake of others.