Nathan J. Ricci
Meet our Seminarians / Nathan J. Ricci
To most college students, waking up at five thirty in the morning seems rather daunting, even to the more productive among us. Apply a morning ritual of silent meditation, prayer, Mass, and breakfast to the list – all finished by 8:30 a.m. – and you have what amounts to a completed quarter of a day for the average college seminarian. But who are these seminarians preparing for the Catholic priesthood? Who are these men who have left careers, their high schools, former colleges, and ordinary ways of living and working in the world for something seemingly incomprehensible to modern society? And what makes a man stop what he has been doing to dedicate the entirety of his life to a so-called “supernatural vocation”? A mystery for sure.
As one of those college students who would have thought waking up any time before 10:00 a.m. bordered on blasphemy, the daily life of a seminarian was indeed a mystery to me. It would not be until September of 2010 when I made the step into the halls of Our Lady of Providence Seminary as a third-college seminarian for the Diocese of Providence that I realized what a gift and a joy it is to discern a vocation to the priesthood.
Throughout most of my life, the thought of being a priest was far from my career goals. Dreams of being an architect and a school teacher early on were fueled by countless hours of designing homes on the SIMS game and “playing school” with my cousins in their basement (things, by the way, that I don’t ordinarily admit without some degree of embarrassment). Later on, I took interest in law and politics after working as a Senate page in the General Assembly and participating in Mock Trial in middle school and Model Legislature in high school. Devoting myself to a life of prayer and service to Christ and His Church, with promises of obedience and celibacy, seemed more foreign to me than anything I had previously considered. The priesthood was for the man up there ‘on the altar,’ not for the young guy down here who wanted to make something of himself in the world. Yet I was raised a Catholic, attended Mass regularly, and was an altar boy at my home parish. I was always interested in the Catholic Faith, and my parents instilled in me strong Christian values from early on. Even still, I had my sights set elsewhere. Then high school came.
It was at Bishop Hendricken High School that the thought of the priesthood first “jumped” into my mind – an experience that I still can’t quite pin down to this day. Yet I know that it was through the priests, brothers, and teachers responsible for my education, new friendships, and increased involvement at my parish, that I came to a deeper understanding of the Catholic Faith. Whether studying theology in class or experiencing the Christian life first-hand through peer ministry and pro-life trips to Washington, D.C., I began to see my faith “come alive,” so to speak. Growing in a broader understanding of the Catholic Faith necessarily led to a deeper awareness of the priesthood, while still very unsure such a vocation was for me. There was no immediate personal revelation or any magical lightning bolt from God that stirred my body into frenzy when I began thinking about the priesthood. St. Paul might have been thrown from his horse when he heard God’s call, but I can’t say I felt fully throttled on my desk chair. In any event, the thought was there, even if only at its beginning stages. I thought about the priesthood; I thought about how I could act as a priest; I thought about life in a parish; I thought about bringing the sacraments to people, celebrating Mass, and ministering to those in hospitals. But at this stage, it was still mostly intellectual – all about the thought, and not enough about the heart.
As I became more interested through high school and later into college, I began to speak to different priests about my thoughts, always with a bit of hesitation as I was confident that “now is not the time for seminary” – a phrase that stuck to me like glue.
When I began applying to colleges, I did so without any immediate plans to enter the seminary. My intention was to start college majoring in political science and philosophy and stay open to whatever opportunities college-life might bring. During my first two years at Providence College, I became very involved in Campus Ministry and school retreats, meeting many students who took their faith seriously. These close friendships were instrumental to my discernment, encouraging me to look to God for guidance in prayer. I came to learn early on that the Lord works through human relationships, bringing people to Himself through the joys and sacrifices of real-life friendships. I also found the academic setting at Providence College to be an especially rewarding one, steeped in the Catholic and Dominican intellectual traditions. Questions of truth and morality, salvation and grace, were incorporated into the very life and mission of the college. There’s good reason why the motto of the college is Truth itself (Veritas).
It was at Providence College where I began to understand that thoughts of the priesthood were not in the least bit ephemeral. The thoughts kept returning; sometimes with fleeting significance, and other times with greater intensity. Spending time before the Lord in the Blessed Sacrament and attending Mass regularly were crucial to this process, as was growing in a deeper relationship with Our Lady, Mother of priests. My former high school day-dreams of priestly activities began to deepen into heart-felt desires which affected the very core of my prayer life and interaction with others. When people began mentioning a possible vocation to me, asking if I had ever considered the priesthood, I knew something was happening. It was one of those things a person knows is impossible to ignore – something that demanded serious prayer and a blunt recognition that it is God who is the ultimate author of my life, not me. The famous words I once heard on a television replay by the Servant of God, Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen, began to reverberate in my heart: “Your life is not your own.” To abandon one’s life to the will of someone else is unusual to begin with; but when that someone else happens to be God, whose ways of communication usually involve a good bit of silence, the message becomes all the more dubious, even frightening at times.
The questions I once had about a vocation continued. How could I know this interest in the priesthood was from God and not simply a figment of my imagination? How does one hear His voice? Are my desires for the priesthood genuine? Isn’t there more time for dating, relationships, and dreams of a family and future career? Am I not too young? Isn’t it clear that I’m unready? Isn’t it obvious how unworthy I am? Moses seemed to have it right: “Who am I? If you please, my Lord, send someone else!” (Exodus 3:11, 4:13).
These questions were never immediately answered and, in many ways, they continue to remain unanswered. But I think there is a reason for this. Archbishop Timothy Dolan tells us that there are a thousand reasons why a man might not enter seminary, but only one reason why he should. The human intellect asks a thousand questions and wants a thousand answers. The Lord makes one call and asks for one response. I can never fully explain how my heart knew a response was needed, but I knew I had to take the next step. I had to trust completely in the Lord – the one who says, “Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid” (St. Matthew 14: 27).
I met with Fr. Michael Najim, Vocation Director for the Diocese of Providence, during my sophomore year in college, and applied to the seminary last year. I completed my first year of formation in May at the Seminary of Our Lady of Providence, a house of formation founded on the cornerstones of prayer, study, fraternity, and apostolic work. Next year – my final year at Our Lady of Providence – I will live under the direction of an incredible group of priests with about 28 other brother seminarians, men who inspire me every day, each discerning the Lord’s call in his life.
Sometimes I can’t believe I’m really a seminarian. Shouldn’t I be sound asleep at five thirty in the morning like everyone else? Admittedly, the morning alarm clock took a good bit getting used to – “the first cross of the day!” as Fr. Timothy Reilly would sometimes remind us – but I cannot express enough how much joy and peace there is in serving the Lord and discerning His will; how fulfilling it is to wake up every day for Him and for His people, the Body of Christ. And if I can speak honestly, I must admit that this past year as a new seminarian was one of immense joy. The Lord never disappoints! Blessed Pope John Paul II said it so well: “the deepest joy that there is in the world is the joy that comes from God.”
St. John Vianney, the beloved Curé of Ars and patron of parish priests, believed that the priesthood is the “love of the heart of Jesus Christ.” There is no better way to understand the priesthood than in this way. The love of Christ is the foundation for any call worthy of the name: it is what guides a man to hear the voice of the Lord and it is what sustains him throughout the process. Each of us is totally unworthy and unready for the priesthood. It is a gift, after all. In the Gospel of St. John, Jesus appears to the Apostles after the Resurrection and questions St. Peter in particular. He asks him, “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?” St. Peter, a little taken aback by the question, answers immediately: “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” But Jesus doesn’t leave it there. He responds, “Feed my lambs.” The question is asked to St. Peter three times, highlighting the importance of the relationship and the task at hand. Only with Christ is the priesthood ever comprehensible and only through His love is it ever efficacious. There is a reason, then, why ordinary men can do extraordinary things for the people they encounter and serve: it is the Lord who is the foundation; it is the Lord who calls. Our response is nothing less than crucial.
I am so grateful to the generosity and friendship of those who support the seminarians and priests of our Diocese. Priests always say that actively serving their parishioners and the Church at large is one of the greatest joys of their vocation. The prayers and support of the people of this Diocese are like seeds for the harvest — real, lasting nourishment for priestly vocations in the Church. Without the seeds, what could blossom? It is a blessing to study and discern a vocation to the priesthood in Providence as I continue to see what the Lord is asking of me. My prayer is that one day, God-willing, I will be able to serve as a priest in this great local Church, full of so many devoted and loving people.