By Fr. Terrence Bennett mssc

When I was a teenager I didn’t give many hoots about missionaries or priests or brothers. If any of my schoolmates wanted to join them it was OK with me, but I didn’t fancy it for myself.

I was taught by Christian brothers and they came to us packed in black soutanes with half collars and mostly grim faces, and it seemed to be their mission in life not to bring joy to us scholars as we were called at that time – more often than not mistakenly. I suppose their teacher-training based itself upon the carrot and stick approach, but they probably got carrots so often in their college fees, which at that time were the lowest in town, and if they knew your parents were finding it hard they didn’t insist, nor did they noise it abroad. Also, they were men of integrity and dint waste time, though we often wished they would; and they were fair, they leathered everybody.

Unfortunately, the effect on me was to make me feel rebellious about absorbing knowledge, so that I would only do the minimum of homework in order to get by. Looking back now I think this was a mistaken since I’ve read an awful lot of books since then in order to improve my mind; but , who knows , in other circumstances I might have turned out to be a genius and become more unbearable than I am.

At that time my hometown, which was Omagh in Northern Ireland, was a great place for religious vocations, and some of my acquaintances were falling for the line handed out by vocations priests and brothers, who come to the school every year to talk about heir own thing. But not me.

In fact when the Columban man came around, although he was fine upstanding person, he turned me off. And he did it by reciting a poem as follows:

“O, who has a blade
for a splendid cause?
And who has a heart that’s true?
To live and to fight the grandest thing
that man could dream
Or singer sing, or ever soldier knew”

It was the ‘singer sing’ line that made me gnash my teeth. I mean to say did he really approve of the word-stringer that could be guilty of a line like that? Worse still, did the mission society that sent him expect to reel us in on a hook like that?

Even at the risk of missing cake and lemonade in the interview parlour I didn’t put in my name.

He got me in the end

But God is smarter that he looked in some of the bearded pictures of Him that abounded in my time, and He got me in the end. The Columbans used to publish a magazine called “The Far East” (a drab sort of thing with a Chinese junk on the front of it). It was distributed in school and I would take it home every month. All I would read is the funny bits at the back, but Ma would read it through – as she said “to get her money’s worth out of it” - she often suggested that the young ones and I should do the same, saying that “it might do you some good”.

The Far East

Anyway one day I was kept in after school hours to rewrite some essay that the English teacher found to be cryptic. My two pals hadn’t waited for me so I was dawdling home on my own and to occupy my mind I started to read The Far East which I was carrying.

The first article on the first page was an appeal for chaps to get ordained as priest and go on missions. I read it through, and it seemed to make sense. By the time I had arrived at the door of our house, I went inside and gave the mag to Ma and said “There’s The Far East. I am going to go to the seminary and become a Columban.” She went straight to the chair and sat down and said, “Good God! I don’t think I heard you right. Tell me that again.”

Disaster for the Columbans

I thought she might at least have patted me on the head and said “good man” but her tone of voice implied that she thought disaster was looming for the Columbans. But the thing is, we Bennetts are made of stern stuff and a maternal negative tone of voice would only serve to stiffen our resolve. But then again she might have known that. Ma could be very devious at times you’d never know what she’d be up to. Pa came home later, and when told of my noble ambition, remained quite calm and didn’t give me five pounds like I had half-hoped he would.

Two things got in the way

Looking back from here I suppose they were right. I still had another year to do in high school, and they probably thought I would change my mind a time or two before the final exams. But like I said earlier – stern stuff, etc. – we Bennetts stick to our guns. It must not be supposed however that things will always go easy for a guy about to embark on a religious career. Two things happened during my senior year which gave me a pause.

Firstly, a young maiden of proven virtue, with whom I had exchanged glances of mutual admiration, went away to teacher training college and began to write letters to me. Secondly, my youngest sister was born and quickly came to the conclusion that if she wanted her opinion to make an impression on four elder brothers and a sister, she would raise her voice – which she wasn’t loth to do.

These two matters affected my studies as follows:

Matter A

I became so interested in the weekly epistles of the trainee teacher that I couldn’t wait for the next one, and I spent lots of minutes, amounting almost to hours, composing even more interesting replies. When you consider that I had to get exercise (football, pitch and toss) to stay healthy, there wasn’t much time for fulfilling the home studies that the unfeeling teachers piled upon us daily.

Matter B

The young one arrived late on the scene and we all thought she was the greatest thing on two heels, so we began to rush home from school to get lifting her from her cot and passing her from one to the other.

On the way to the seminary

This exhilarated her no end, but when Ma put her down to sleep while the rest of us did our assignments, she raised very vociferous objections so that the decibel level almost prevented serious attempts to learn anything. The result in the end, however, was that the teachers became distraught and gave up on me figuring that I was doomed to fail the final exams anyway. Whereupon, I relaxed, began to listen to them sympathetically and to the surprise of all, myself included, passed the exams and was accepted in the Columban Seminary.

The virtuous maiden problem solved itself when her friend in the college said that she would also like to become my pen pal. I should have known that women couldn’t keep anything to themselves. My ardor for writing letters that could be published posthumously at great profit, suddenly grew cold leaving me time for other interests such as geography and history and English.

Get in there and stick to it!

The Columban Seminary at that time was bursting with students and was great in every way and I enjoyed it. But halfway through the course I made a strange discovery. Pa was trying to restart business after the war and I knew things were tough with them financially. So I offered to drop out and help to save the situation. I was surprised at the vehemence with which Pa said, “No dice!” He went on, “If you cannot hack the celibacy or the studies, okay! But if it’s just our hard times please don’t leave. Get in there and stick to it. Your mother and I and all of us are praying that you will make it.” This was a mild surprise to me. I hadn’t realized they were all that concerned about my vocation.

Preferably Columbans

In the seminary itself, which was called Dalgan Park, there was a priest who was a first cousin of my mother and who had married her to Pa in the dim and distant past. He was the college librarian and an unofficial spiritual director to some. He had never gone on the missions because of multiple sclerosis, he was popular with us students who lived for soccer football and indeed with all.

He never even hinted at it but it gradually was borne in upon me that he was very close to the Lord. I realized then that he had been praying for Pa and Ma, from day one, that they would have a son or two that would be ordained as Catholic priest. Preferably Columbans.

He got me and I’m glad He did

What more can I say? God had His eyes on me from the beginning, and He knew all along that He was going to get me, and I have to admit in this autumn of my life that I’m glad He did. It’s been a long trip but I met some great people along the way including God, and they all made it very enjoyable.

My advice to young chaps? If you know there is somebody around who is praying for you, watch out!