LIFE AT THE NOVITIATE
The St. Paul novitiate is a nondescript, low-slung building on one of the city’s grandest and most
historic streets. Formerly a convent, it houses 23 Jesuit novices and four Jesuit fathers. It’s the
home base for Jesuits in training from the Missouri and Wisconsin provinces and English-speaking Canada. The upstairs bedrooms are cloistered and simple, just 12 feet by 12. Novices are encouraged
to bring few personal belongings. It suits the Jesuit lifestyle, in which they could leave on assignment at
anytime.
“You need to be able to pack lightly,” Simmons explains. “That’s how St. Ignatius would’ve wanted it, I think.”
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| Several Marquette grads have either become Jesuit priests or are on their way to ordination. While at a Jesuit retreat house this summer, a few gathered for a group photo. Back row, from left to right: Joe Simmons, nS.J.; Vince Strand, S.J.; and Brad Held, nS.J. Front row, from left to right: Paul “PJ” Shelton, S.J.; Mike Lex, S.J.; Rev. Mark Carr, S.J.; and Stephen Wolfe, S.J. |
In some ways, it seems like the home of typical 20- and 30-somethings. Young guys in jeans and T-shirts wander through the halls and busy themselves in the kitchen. Two novices brew beer in the basement storage room. The laundry room doubles as a workout room, where they also play Ping-Pong and give each other haircuts. In the rarely used TV room, they occasionally gather for Catholic-themed movie nights But it’s not just reliving dorm life.
“We’re trying to make ourselves better people, relying on each other for support and relying on God to help ourselves do that,” Simmons says.
The day usually starts with Mass in the morning and ends with prayer in the evening. They share an evening meal. In between, they are free to devote time to prayer, study or other activities. They take classes in language, the Sacraments, Christian prayer and living, and Jesuit history, and they also volunteer in local parishes, schools, prisons and homeless shelters.
But more than anything, the novitiate is a school of prayer. “You know that you’re just here right now to learn how to pray, to get that bedrock so that when you go out and do more difficult work, it’s so built-in and so routine,” Simmons explains.
HITTING THE ROAD
Simmons, Held and Wolfe were nervous and excited about the pilgrimage. Spending a month essentially homeless, relying on their faith in God and the generosity of strangers, was one of the most powerful experiences of their lives.
“It’s a lot about trust and freeing yourself from the comforts of day-to-day living,” Simmons says.
In search of Jesuit writers, Simmons’ pilgrimage started with a 27-hour bus ride to Manhattan, N.Y. He met Jesuit authors along the East Coast and then visited a Benedictine monastery in Pennsylvania. On the last day, he swung through Milwaukee to visit his mom on Mother’s Day.
Held’s pilgrimage took him to places steeped in Jesuit history, such as the site of the first Catholic Mass in the English colonies. He trekked across rural Maryland and Pennsylvania, searching for old buildings, graveyards and empty fields.
When he reached the bus station in Chicago, someone asked him for money for a ticket.
| “How many people can stop their life for a month just to get to know the Lord better? How many people can go on a pilgrimage for a month?” |
Held gave the man $15 of the $35 that was to sustain him for the month. This journey was about trust, and Held had to trust that he would be provided for.
“The whole pilgrimage, I was really seeking to be able to trust in God more, trust in the unknown,” Held says. “That was the real challenge and yet the real joy of the pilgrimage.”
But initially the unknown left his stomach in knots. Other than occasionally hitchhiking, Held made his way on foot, never knowing where he’d sleep. He used his towel as a pillow and raincoat as a blanket. Some days he could only repeat aloud, “I trust in you. I trust in you.”
Wolfe decided there was no place he’d rather be than the novitiate. Making the novitiate his shrine, he took the bus to Milwaukee and walked back to St. Paul.
“I really wanted to do sort of an old-fashioned pilgrimage,” Wolfe says. “I’m more of that contemplative, academic type, so I wanted to put my body to the test. I also wanted to get a sense of a diocesan priesthood, not that I feel a calling toward it, but I wanted to understand it better.”
Wolfe walked an average of 13-15 miles a day, trudging through rain and 95-degree heat. He stayed in Catholic rectories during the week, and on weekends visited monasteries and convents.
The novices carried letters vouching for their identity. The letter came in handy for Wolfe, whose big, bushy beard got wilder as the days passed. Nine people called the novitiate to confirm that the scruffy traveler was truly a Jesuit in training.
THE QUEST AHEAD
The Jesuit lifestyle isn’t for everyone. One member of their class left after the first month. The previous year, four men decided to leave the novitiate after much prayer and reflection.
“Even if guys leave along the way, you know that they have more clarity than when they came in, and for that, we’re grateful,” Simmons says.
For Simmons, uncertainty is part of the process. “Can I really do this? Do I want to give myself to this? You’re constantly checking. I’d be worried if someone didn’t question, if they just said, ‘yep, yep, this is what I want to do with my whole life’ without really thinking about it. It’s a daily discernment, a daily process of evaluating things.”
For now, all three men feel they’re where they’re supposed to be. Even the first year has been a life-changing experience.
“I sometimes feel very guilty … about the opportunities I’ve had with the Jesuits,” Wolfe says. “How many people can stop their life for a month just to get to know the Lord better? How many people can go on pilgrimage for a month? I’m very, very aware of my blessings here.”
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