Welcome to a new weekly series on the formation journey of Josh, a first-year novice at the Marian House of Studies in Washington, D.C.
For a Marian seminarian, the novitiate is the most important stage of formation. This is the time when the novice learns what it is like to be a member of the Marian community. The novice follows the ancient monastic tradition of ora et labora — that is, pray and work. He will learn the dynamics of prayer and the contemplative life, study the history of religious life and mysticism in the Church, and learn to reflectively read and pray through the Scriptures. He will study the Marian Constitutions, charism, spirituality, apostolate, and the history of the Congregation. Most importantly, he will study the vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience in preparation for his temporary profession of these vows at the end of the novitiate year. In addition to prayer and study, the novice works at various manual tasks on a daily basis.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
An alarm in the back of the novitiate house’s kitchen whined threateningly as the Marian novices wandered aimlessly about in confusion, looking for the source of all the smoke.
One popped the oven door open and peered into the dark interior, but everything looked normal.
Josh (that’s me), one of the tallest but not always the brightest, finally noticed the microwave.
He’d popped a couple potatoes in while cooking supper and switched the setting to 16 minutes. He’d done this hundreds of times when living in California; 8 minutes per potato always made them nice and toasty.
Not today.
Price paid
They opened the microwave door. The two potatoes were nothing but ash. Not only were the potatoes literally reduced entirely to a tiny lump of black cinders and ash, but the microwave interior was charred.
“What happened?” one of the brothers exclaimed. “Did someone need to set the microwave for like 2 minutes and instead set it for 2 hours?”
Josh never used such a powerful microwave in his life. He’d learned a lesson—but the microwave paid the price.
Some of the technically gifted brothers got to work on the microwave and struggled to revive it, but it was no good. Josh completely destroyed the microwave.
Some of the technically gifted brothers got to work on the microwave and struggled to revive it, but it was no good. Josh completely destroyed the microwave.
Six or seven weeks later, Josh’s novice master, Fr. Jim, asked Josh to help the maintenance guy, Michal, to put some shower doors into place in a second-story room that was undergoing massive development.
After the Epic Microwave Disaster, Josh’s fellow novices joked, “That was one strike! Two more and you’re out!”
However, the Marian community was very merciful and understanding. There were no reprimands.
Josh walked up the stairs to join Michal at the room needing remodeling. He announced brightly, “Good morning! I’m here to help!”
Michal is a short, graying, strong man with an ordinarily stern expression. He nodded shortly in response, for he was a man of few words.
He led Josh around the corner of the doorway into the hall and Josh laid hold of the glass shower door with both hands. He lifted it up and carefully edged his way along, following Michal back into the bedroom.
Making his way around the piles of tools, pieces of debris, plastic and buckets scattered about the room, they made their way to the bathroom.
Suddenly, the shower door exploded.
Josh hadn’t bumped into anything. The pressure of his fingers against the glass was simply too much for the sides of the door. In an instant, the door became a cascade of glass slivers showering all over Josh and covering the floor.
Shattered
Josh stood there, glittering with tiny glass particles, dumbfounded.
Michal looked at him with a flash of anger on his face. He managed to restrain whatever he wanted to say, and he just ordered, “Go and tell Fr. Jim!”
Josh walked down the stairs, cringing inwardly, as blood began to run down a small scrape on his right wrist.
He walked down the hall to Fr. Jim’s office and knocked on the door.
“Come in,” Fr. Jim replied with his usual laid-back, friendly voice.
Father Jim is a tall, slender man with dark hair. He looked up at Josh as the novice fumblingly started explaining what happened. Then, Fr. Jim’s eyes widened a bit and he got up from his chair as he noticed the blood on Josh’s arm.
“Oh my gosh!” he said. “Do you need to go to the ER?”
“Oh, I don’t think so.”
Seeing the expression on Josh’s face, Fr. Jim immediately consoled him. “I don’t care about the door. I care about you.”
Seeing the expression on Josh’s face, Fr. Jim immediately consoled him. “I don’t care about the door. I care about you.”
His words touched me deeply. Before joining the Marians, I found himself in a situation where my foot was injured and I couldn’t move to help myself; my care was neglected. I also knew a person who suffered a worse injury and was never offered a trip to the ER, or visited.
The Church gave the Marians of the Immaculate Conception the responsibility of spreading the message of Divine Mercy. Often, the best way to teach a lesson to your pupils is to provide a personal example.
Father Jim did this for me.
Next entry: Divine Encounters
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