A reflection on the day of my interview at Oscott. Interview Day.

A reflection on the day of my interview at Oscott, for a place in the seminary.

Interview Day.

(Reminiscing with a sense of nostalgia and gratitude)

The four saintly men who I sat before to explain my reasons are all dead now.

All different, from background to execution of questions, the why’s, the how?

It was February 1986 I was 19, very nervous, “just be yourself” advice ringing in my ears.

Words tumbled from these lips of this one being interviewed for seminary, beset with doubts, with youthful fears.

I remember the first of the four, a huge smiling man sat before me, Bishop Cleary.

I remember he started by saying “How is Aiden?” (my brother) then his laughter for a full minute. He continued “You didn’t expect that question did you? My brother was then a travel agent, who looked after the bishops trips abroad. It had amused him so to ask that first question, he being full of life, of fun, engaging, not a drop of the dreary.

I hadn’t researched my answer, but I said “Yes, he is fine” and the questions kept being asked in my trembling direction.

“Why do you want to be a priest?” he rasped, suddenly serious. He wanted me to tell him what I understood of a priest’s vocation.

It’s the best way I can serve Christ who calls me, and carries me, to serve the church too,  I mumbled in answer with all sincerity.

“Thank you!” he intoned, “for your honesty, I believe you to be a man of integrity.

“Ok” he smiled “we are done, off you go, in the next room you will meet the Vicar General” I wondered who?

I really did not have a clue, who to expect, I thought would he be dressed as an actual general? He wasn’t, but he was Irish, like bishop Cleary, with a red puffy face and a shyness that shone through.

“So, who is your favourite saint then” he said? “St Benedict” I enthusiastically replied, and he thoughtfully sighed.

“And do you know the rosary and the Memorae?” “Yes” I said,  “then that will do for me” he replied.

After a while he shook my hand and led me to the next room, where the rector sat in an arm chair far too big for him. He leant forward and said “don’t be shy, come on in.”

He spoke softly with a northern twang, he possessed an inquisitive, owl like, lingering stare, and a broad smile. “How are you doing so far?” “Good” I said trying not to inanely grin.

“Do you pray?” he spoke with authority, as one schooled in a lifetime of praying, “Yes Father” I reassured “every day” “Tell me about your prayer then” he started an examination. “I speak, I listen, I feel loved and I communicate with the divine. God, so much bigger than me, I marvel that he loves me, tiny and insignificant as I am.” I waffled and went on a bit, I thought he needed to hear all the pious things I knew.

“Do you think you will like the seminary?” He smiled, I asked cheekily “do you?” Not the smartest thing at an interview to do! “A means to an end!” He grinned, peering out of the window  of his room, one with such a wonderful view.

He then took my hand and led me to the final room, where a bishop stood in the window and beckoned me come forward.

“I am Bishop McCartie, do you like sports?” he forthrightly said. I did indeed. “Rugby?” he said, “not so much” I ventured an opinion “football is my passion,” He asked if I played football or watched, which did I prefer? Both was the answer, I watch ardently dreaming of that life. I play modestly, adequately, at being a centre forward. In my head I was Peter Withe scoring the winning European Cup goal for the Villa, dreams confined to sleeping and my bed!

“Team games” he said “are so important you know.” Then he looked right into my eyes and stood in front of me.  He slowly deliberately inquired of me.

“What do you think about celibacy?” As he poured me a strong cup of tea.

I nodded in thanks for the tea, as it quenched the dryness forming in my throat. “It is something to pray about my Lord” I said, He continued his train of thought “How will you feel in twenty years time” he said “when your brothers and sisters are all married with families of their own, do you think you will have missed out?”

“I don’t know” in truth I replied  “I guess it about trust, and in the end, the calling to the priesthood is about love. I thought maybe prayer is the bricks of the priesthood, celibacy the grout.

“Off you go!” He said, “and we will soon let you know.” I shivered slightly on leaving and made my way to that ornate college chapel. And finding a kneeler with my knees, I worshipped God with a little prayer, in that late afternoon, subdued, but ever so reverential lighting.

The sky was a gorgeous orange glow that afternoon when I left the gate behind me and hopped on the bus back to town. With the words you have been accepted and you will begin the journey in September ringing in my ears. like the bell ringing to indicate the bus stopping and the good people alighting.

It really is about love, the priesthood, I remember thinking that on interview day.

Thirty years since ordination it remains all about love. God’s love for me and my response, being loved and striving to love in return. I have not missed out on love, it floods my being every day at the altar and in embracing Christ’s call to the priestly way.

Fr Patrick Brennan 2022 ©