A Portrait of an Artist as a Former Seminarian
By James Nicolay

I AM an ex-seminarian. I am proud of that.

Still, when I say that to my present friends and acquaintances, I receive raised eyebrows and dropped jaws for reactions to my once being angelic self. They tell me I look like the kicked-out seminarian for being extremely unpleasantly horny artistic buffoon. No that is just me today, I tell them jokingly serious. No, I did not harm anyone nor cause sexual revolution in the seminary.

I went out of the seminary for the same reason I went there–it’s plain God’s voice with all the birds chirping and the eerie whispering of the breeze and choir of angels chanting, hypnotizing my consciousness and hocus-pocusing my human frailty. Or if I were talking to an agnostic or an atheist I would simply say it’s my calling to go out of the seminary. My vocation is to be an ex-seminarian.

I cannot deny that I have other reasons for entering the seminary. Looking back at my life, I realize that all roads lead to this destination. I prayed a lot, wore the rosary as a necklace, looked like Sto. Niño in my childhood. In my teens, I wasn’t quite interested with my needs for human intimacy. I was the apathetic nerd strolling around the campus answering trivia questions from my fellow nerd schoolmates. I was the consistent conduct award recipient every recognition day. And on high school graduation day, I was still a virgin, (and chant with me now) never been kissed, never been touched. Stand back, Lorenzo Ruiz, I was on the way for my canonization.

Contradicting myself however, I was not that good. I hated my fat, short, geek self-image. I did not want to plan my life. I cursed people on their backs. I developed a feeling of stoicism towards every person I know, including my parents, siblings, relatives, and friends. On rare occasions I lied and stole money just to buy another cassette tape to drown my world with noise. On frequent occasions I masturbated and watched pornographic materials. And to top it all, I did not really believe in God.
With these thoughts swimming around my head, you’ll get my idea of vocation to enter the seminary, which actually is a misnomer – it was a vacation.

My vacation consisted of experiencing rituals and lifestyle prescribed by my adorable prefects and priests in the seminary. I was hurled into a habit of intense prayers, spiritual retreats, and devotion to spiritual beings whose existence I was oblivious of. I was chunked in a community of seemingly harmless individuals. Nothing was expected of me but to study, sleep, eat, work, play, sing, read, socialize, and discern God’s will.

For the first time I was immersed in beautiful things that life has promised – arts, beauty, freedom, truth, faith, love. I learned to read not only the Scriptures but good literary books. I wrote dozens of poems, essays, and even managed to direct a play. I learned to sing and dance. I learned to laugh and cry without even trying. I learned to appreciate the sunflowers that I had planted and groomed, the toilet seats that I had cleaned, the rules that I had observed, the best friend that I had helped. But most of all, I learned to accept and love myself. This was paradise for me.

But paradise cannot exist without the smoldering tempting snakes lurking around. Being a microcosm in itself, the seminary community harbors different individuals. Being used to the system, I had seen a different truth beyond the latent heaven-haven appearance of the environment between these so-called-sacred-walls. My fellow seminarians, even my superiors, were all humans struggling with their own crises. Most of them, after staying so long have not found out what they are really looking for.

Yes, not all of them wanted to be priests. Just like me, the seminary was just a phase in their lives: a vocation to experience a different kind of human vacation and enlightenment. And the worst part was these sad, confused people were pulling others to join them in their misery. They displayed their foulest behaviors in the subtlest way there was just to cover-up their devious ways and appear still as innocent seminarians and servants of God.

I realized that I was a part of this circus plot of melodrama. I wanted to get out because I realized the purpose of my stay has been fulfilled and staying further would make me blinded about being another tragic character in the seminary, looking for something that they have within themselves all along. I’ve had enough in my ten-month stay. I found arts, life, God, and myself. These discoveries beckoned me out of the seminary. It was a call I was destined to heed.

Now look at me. I am the extremely unpleasantly horny artistic buffoon and, with pride, an ex-seminarian, leading a good, real life. Finally, the vacation is over.

James Nicolay is a fourth year student of UP Diliman.