Older seminarians help revitalize U.S. priesthood

By Melanie Lefkowitz

Apr. 16, 2008 (McClatchy-Tribune Regional News delivered by Newstex) --
For Robert Holz, the question always lingered.

He'd worked as an accountant for nearly two decades. He was basically happy. He was 40 years old.

Still, the question was there.

"Is God calling me? Or not?" he said.

Partly because he felt unfulfilled, partly in hopes of resolving that nagging question, Holz quit his job and inquired about becoming a priest. He has spent much of the past five years inside the yellow brick walls of the Seminary of the Immaculate Conception, a sprawling estate on Long Island Sound where peaceful days are marked by tolling bells.

"The idea of the future is a lot bigger now," said Holz, now 47 and in his final seminary year. "You come into the seminary and suddenly you really start looking at eternity. As opposed to when I was younger: Is there enough in the IRAs to retire? What if this, what if that, is my house paid for? Each of those long-term goals got longer and longer, and when you bang up against eternity there's not a lot of turning back."

Questions of eternity, faith and personal mission are as old as the priesthood itself, but Holz is among a vanguard of older priests-in-training who are energizing an institution that has faced stiff recruitment challenges for decades.

He's one of nine men expected to be ordained this June, in what church officials say is among the largest classes of incoming priests in the nation. The size of the class is a huge leap from a low nine years ago, when the Rockville Centre Diocese ordained only a single priest.

Bishop William Murphy declared the priesthood a priority when he came to Long Island in 2001, and now the number of Rockville Centre seminarians, once in the single digits, is up to 31. More than a third of those studying to be priests on Long Island are older men such as Holz.

To help attract would-be priests, the diocese holds events such as weekend retreats at the seminary, where Murphy hosts question-and-answer sessions, and it has strengthened its outreach operations at local college campuses.

Although these efforts may help demystify the seminary and the priesthood, church officials say, the decision to become a priest is an intensely private one. Msgr. James McDonald, the seminary's rector, suggested that the cause for the upswing in ordinands is nothing less than divine.

"Everything is personal interest and God's grace," McDonald said.

Growing trend

The Sept. 11 attacks helped to inspire some of these men to enter the priesthood; for others, the balance swung after an illness or the loss of a parent. Many said they considered the priesthood as young children, but were distracted, uncertain or afraid.

"I was doing well, the companies I worked for were generous, so there were regular promotions, regular raises. But by the end, when I was earning this much more than when I started, I would have expected to be this much happier, and I wasn't," said Holz, who grew up in Dix Hills and lived most recently in Bethpage. "Looking for fulfillment is what brought me here."

Amid growing concerns about the priest shortage, seminarians all over the country are growing up. For the past decade, the median age for priests at ordination has hovered around 38 -- a big difference from the 1960s, when it was 26. A seminary in Weston, Mass., Blessed John XXIII, is dedicated to training second-career priests, but experts say they are entering dioceses nationwide.

The Rev. Paul Sullins, a professor of sociology at Catholic University of America in Washington, D.C., said the trend is probably driven by modern priests' additional years of education -- they generally finish seminary with a master of divinity degree, rather than a bachelor of divinity -- and the fact that people in general increasingly wait longer before settling on a single path.

"Priesthood being a career that requires a lifetime commitment, it's becoming more and more common for men to choose that as their second or third career in their life," he said.

Older priests come with more maturity, life experience and business skills, he said. But they don't offer the church as many years of service in return for the church's investment in their training. "However, on balance, parishioners tell us they're very happy to have these men," he said.

Shortage of priests

New priests of any age are sorely needed. As the number of Catholics in the United States has risen, the number of priests has steadily dropped. According to the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, there are nearly 29,000 priests, about 20 percent fewer than 40 years ago. But the worst is likely yet to come. The stark decline in the number of ordinations nationwide -- 475 in 2007, compared with 994 in 1965 -- and the aging of the current population of priests, whose median age is in the 50s, indicate that the priest shortage will grow more critical in coming years.

The same trends hold on Long Island, where the 134 parishes shared 232 working priests last year. That's down from a peak of more than 450. To compensate, the diocese has cut the number of priests in some parishes and shifted some tasks to laypeople. Some foreign-born priests also have been brought in to ease the load.

But encouraging vocations (men who seek the priesthood) remains a priority for the diocese of 1.4 million Catholics. It's a full-time job for the Rev. Brian Barr, who tries to help men tune out the noise of the secular world to hear God calling. Although his is a spiritual task, it requires a practical, sales-oriented approach.

"I'm the recruiter, and that's a very real thing," said Barr, who formerly ran the diocese's campus ministries and is now its director of vocations. His duties range from the practical, such as organizing monthly "Holy Hour" evenings at the seminary to educate interested men about the priesthood, to the metaphysical, as he tries to gauge who, in fact, might be ready.

"There's a sales piece. But we're not just selling cars. My job is to help people realize what God wants. Sometimes it's to help a guy to realize, I thought this was what I was called to do, but maybe it isn't."

For example, Barr said, someone who says he is unfazed by the vow of celibacy is probably not a good candidate.

"Questioning is good," he said. "In the course of questioning and doubting, you seek answers."

Debating barriers

The decline in priests has led some within the Catholic Church to call for allowing women to be ordained or lifting the vow of celibacy. Catholic University professor Sullins, a Catholic priest who is married with three children under a special dispensation for converted Protestant priests, believes that financial considerations pose more of a barrier to the priesthood than the vow of celibacy. But he said both these factors could be less important to men who are later in life.

Barr said that an older man who becomes a priest could conceivably have been married, either widowed or in a pairing that has been annulled, though it would probably not be appropriate to ordain a man with young children. Still, even middle-aged priests and seminarians said they struggle, sometimes daily, with the celibacy vow.

"It is a real consideration to say I cannot, will not be married," said Holz, who never married. "However, it wouldn't be fair to a woman to say, I can give you this much, because the rest is taken by somebody else. So it seems to me in fairness, you have to pick a side."

While marriage and family are among the life possibilities sacrificed by younger men entering the seminary, it's different for many of the older men. They said their biggest challenge was the loss of control over their own lives.

Seminarians are allowed freedom to come and go, and communicate with the outside world, but only to a point, said McDonald, the seminary rector. Much of their day consists of reflection, prayer and study, punctuated by a midday mass where only masculine voices rise in song. They may have their own bedrooms and bathrooms, but the dormitory-style setting would be familiar to a recent college graduate. It's an adjustment for those coming from the world of work.

The Rev. Lee Descoteaux, 37, who was ordained last June after several years working in college admissions offices, said that at first he missed his technological gadgets, and had to get used to life among men who still received allowances from their parents. Dennis Suglia, 43, a second-year seminarian, said that his four years in the Marines were good practice for the discipline required by his new life in the seminary.

"Nobody really can survive as an individual," said Suglia, who grew up in Cedarhurst, graduated from Stony Brook University and worked in the corporate world after leaving the military. "We're asked to do a lot of things that may not be our first choice here, and it's part of the formation to the priesthood in the sense that our life is no longer our own."

Benefits of age

In addition to making an easier adjustment, coming to the priesthood as a younger man can also inspire other younger Catholics to the faith, some said. At 27, Lachlan Cameron is the youngest man expected to be ordained on Long Island this June. He said his decision to enter the priesthood hinged in part on the influence of a young priest he knew in high school, a man to whom he could easily relate.

"I think you come with a certain enthusiasm, a freshness on life," said Cameron, a graduate of Holy Spirit school in New Hyde Park, Chaminade High School in Mineola and St. John's University. "It's a great opportunity to give your youth to the church."

Conversely, older priests bring their years of experience. Seminarians at Immaculate Conception -- whose median age is around 34 -- come from career backgrounds as varied as farming, teaching, marketing and sales. "Those of us who were fortunate enough to be in leadership positions before bring that extra measure of understanding and competence to the priestly life," Suglia said.

And in addition to work training and life experience, second-career priests said they understand the pressures of the secular world in ways that younger men may not.

"I know what it is to get on the Long Island Rail Road every day, or fight the Expressway," Holz said. "I know what it feels like when your utilities go up by x percent and your salary goes up by less -- a lot of the things that aren't necessarily spiritual questions originally, but become them very quickly when people start wondering, 'Is this what my life is about?'"

It's that kind of wondering, Holz said, that led him to Immaculate Conception. But more than 30 years after his parish priest first asked him about the priesthood, Holz said the wondering continues.

"I'll let you know when it's done," he said, laughing.

LATE BLOOMERS

DENNIS SUGLIA

Age 43, grew up in Cedarhurst. Spent four years in the Marines, then worked in sales, marketing and finance for big corporations including Kraft, Pepsi and Met Life. In his second year in the seminary.

"I had a very well-engineered plan of life. I really responded to a call that now I know in my heart was there when I was young, 9 or 10, that I just never reacted to, it never really blossomed. Down the road, it just wouldn't go away, that calling. I started to be much more religiously oriented, started to fall in love with the faith, and one thing led to another and the priesthood ...

There was a lot of happiness in my life, but my life felt unfulfilled, and that's been the greatest joy in being here.

It's fulfillment, really. A lot of guys come here and they think about the priesthood, it's like little kids who want to jump in the pool but they're kind of afraid because it might be too cold, and they just have to get over that initial fear. It's the same way. Once you jump in, you're surrounded by that grace."

ED SHERIDAN

Age 54, native of Queens. Left the seminary in the late 1970s and spent 20 years as an executive for IBM. (NYSE:IBM) Re-entered the seminary in 2005 and was ordained as a priest in June. Pastor of St. Catherine of Sienna parish in Franklin Square.

"The world was changing very fast, and I was trying to find what God was intending for me. I think at the time I actually left thinking I was taking a year or two off, and then I took care of a number of relatives. Life has its way of presenting needs to you ... When I came back, in January 2005, I almost felt like I had never left.

You enter into people's lives when it's most important and most needed. And it's a privilege to be a priest today. We're each called to our own vocation, and at different times in our lives we're called in different ways.

I think any life worth living is going to be a sacrifice -- whether as the father of a family, or as a priest. Sure, there are times when I think about having a family, but I also think about the difference that I'm making as a priest in my parish."

ROBERT HOLZ

Age 47, originally from Dix Hills, and lived most recently in Bethpage. Worked as an accountant for more than 15 years and entered the seminary in 2001. Expected to be ordained this June.

"The biggest change that I had to deal with was the lack of control over my own time. After so many years of living alone in my house, to now open the door and be part of the herd moving down to the first class, time for morning prayer, felt a little bit different. When I came in, suddenly people would say, Second Theology, meeting after lunch, and I would say, well I was planning on ... Then when I explained it to people, that is really where I started to understand. When I say I'm going to give my life to something, what is that but time?

A lot of what I may have missed in the beginning is long gone. At the beginning it was tough. Waking up when I wanted to, making my own schedules, getting back into a classroom environment after 20-some odd years. It helps make me feel younger, sitting here next to guys half your age."

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