Jeremy Sabugo, Justin Carrigan and Michael Kamauoha stand in front of Father Johnathan Hurrell, seated, at their profession of first vows, Aug. 10, in St. Patrick Church. (HCH photo | Darlene Dela Cruz)
It was a moment for mini-meditation during a traffic stall last week along the University of Hawaii dormitory row — a conscious choice of reflect or surrender to road rage!
Luggage being unloaded included as many of the trappings of normal life a person could bring to new digs — microwave, television, rice cooker, sports equipment, every electronic device on the market, not to mention clothing to make whatever statements envisioned in the eyes of the wearer.
The tank top-shorts-and-slippers parade on Dole Street was part of a nationwide march underway as thousands of people take that step from childhood into adulthood. New territory to explore, chances to make new friends who are different from your high school gang, expanding the mind in class and out, managing your time and making choices now outside of family oversight, an exciting yet frightening first step on a long path.
So, I mused, how many of them packed a compass? Not to be confused with GPS directions for dummies on what baby steps to take to find your way around campus. I’m thinking of the spiritual and moral equipment for the giant steps, to make thoughtful life choices, recognize when a situation or a person is wrong for you, recognize mistakes and turn around from them.
But then, Mr. Road Rage honked and I was jolted out of musings that might have taken me to new heights of poetic imagery — that would cross the college kids’ eyes.
Three particular young men
The comparison was in my mind after talking about three particular young men who are among those heading for college campuses this fall. I guess you could say each spent the past couple of years building and polishing his own compass.
Jeremy Sabugo of Waialua, Michael Kamauoha of Honolulu and Justin Carrigan of Attelboro, Mass., spent the past year at the Congregation of the Sacred Hearts monastery in Kaneohe. It was the novitiate, which is Catholic lingo for religious boot camp. After two less-structured years of discernment, the men spent last year preparing for their first giant step into religious life.
That came when they professed vows of chastity, poverty and obedience in an Aug. 10 ceremony in which they became Sacred Hearts brothers. The vows, good for three years, are a first step. They are now continuing on course for college degrees, with a choice to be made in three years about making the vows “perpetual,” to last their lifetimes. They may remain in service as brothers within the organization with parishes and missions from Massachusetts to Tonga and India, or they may continue the 10-year course of study to become priests.
It’s a profound career choice which we call a vocation because, beyond selecting whether to be a teacher, social worker or accountant, it is the choice to bring whatever skill they have, first, to serve God. It is a commitment to keep walking in Jesus’ footsteps and listening for God’s voice in the midst of the material world.
“Religious life is not a place where someone can escape from the world; we are in the world,” said Father Johnathan Hurrell, provincial of the religious order.
“A person has to have the openness to try to discover God’s will for you, allow others to journey with you, allow yourself to be challenged.”
Newly minted Brother Jeremy Sabugo, 24, said he has been on the path to this choice since high school. “I grew up in a Filipino community which was very supportive of my choice.” He was active at St. Michael Parish in Waialua. He made an indicative choice one weekend when he chose to attend the confirmation class retreat which meant missing competing in a high school tennis tournament. He recalled joining thousands of Catholic youths at the 2008 World Youth Day in Sydney, Australia. “The theme was ‘Receive the Holy Spirit.’ It was a big AHA moment. I felt God was calling me to live this life.”
Sabugo earned a bachelor’s degree in communications from the University of Hawaii. “In the filmmaking courses at UH, my projects were based on the Catholic faith, on the Our Father, on the 10 Commandments. They got to know my style.
“I was always on my computer, everything was fast, fast,” Sabugo said.
And then it was slowed to a hush. He and the other novices spent their “formation” time of 12 months and a day — a period established in canon law — disentangled from the World Wide Web. They handed over their cell phones for the year and had no internet connections whatever. They were allowed to write one letter each week to a relative or friend, and call close family members on their birthdays.
The days at the Bethany monastery on a hill above Likelike Highway followed a schedule of conferences, daily Mass, private prayer and reflection, joint faith-sharing, under the tutelage of novice master Father Patrick Fanning and Brother Richard Kupo. Occasional television viewing was allowed and near the end, they got permission to get back into email and Facebook connections.
Service projects included weekly eight-hour shifts at the Institute for Human Services — where Sabugo’s communications skill put him into the development office instead of the kitchen with the others — and preparation of Spam musubi and other food to support a Catholic group’s food service to the homeless.
The pattern followed at the Kaneohe monastery echoes that of the religious life men and women have chosen down through the centuries.
Father Hurrell said the formation process “allows a person to put away the clatter of busyness and keep it away. It’s time to develop a prayer life, to pull away to see if I can live a life that is disciplined.”
What the organization is looking at is to find “people who are searching with integrity, who authentically feel God is calling him,” said the head man of the Sacred Hearts order, who was ordained just seven years ago.
A decision made freely
Father Fanning said, “It’s a sense of letting go so you can listen to the Lord.” After farewells to the class of three, he met last week with two young men from Molokai beginning their year as novices. He told them that among the traits he looks for is “the family spirit, that we welcome people. The emphasis is on others and not on ourselves. I’m looking for people who actually pray when they don’t know I’m looking, that they have a prayer life, spirituality.”
There are rules and schedules, yes. But I was joking when I said boot camp. It’s not a military regimen. “They share voluntarily. They have to feel the sense of freedom, they are free to stay and free to go,” Father Fanning said. “We want them to be completely free in their decision.” A guy who comes late and takes shortcuts won’t get a detention, but he’ll be guided to confront himself about why he does that.
I’m not joking when I say that, whatever the sacrifices may be, people in religious life may not appreciate what a great luxury they enjoy with the safety and security of a roof overhead and a meal on the table. Silence and solitude may repel some, but it might sound like heaven on earth to people crammed into four-generation households where the din never ceases.
Talking about the vows required of them is an ongoing discussion during the novitiate: celibacy instead of a family of your own, accepting the authority of others, relinquishing material goods. The discussion continues throughout your life, said Father Hurrell.
The vows, which worldly folk like myself can see as relinquishing your freedom, seem easiest to frame as “giving up.”
“A lot of people think of sacrifice as a bad thing,” said the provincial. “Sacrifice is not a bad thing but it can be a tough thing. Whatever you give up, you still have satisfaction in community and family spirit. There is real joy in this life. You find joy in the mission. You build family with those in the mission you’re in. You need the constant support of others, older and wiser priests, your family, good friends. You’ve got to keep it real. You don’t want the savior mentality. We leave that to Jesus.”
At the root of the whole Christian perspective of relinquishing material goods and selfish pleasures is the story recounted in one of my favorite Hawaiian hymns, “Kanaka Wai Wai.” According to Gospel writers’ accounts, a rich young man asked Jesus what he could do to be assured of eternal life. Jesus told him to follow the commandments, but he pressed for more. Jesus told him to sell all his worldly possessions and give to the poor, then “come follow me.”
That was too much to take for a man possessed by his possessions, so the man went away sad, according to the Gospel of Luke.
The three religious brothers have the support of an extended religious family as they head to college — Kamauoha in Hawaii, Carrigan in Massachusetts and Sabugo in San Antonio, Texas. They have the strength of the moral compasses they have begun to polish.
I envy the rich Catholic culture that embraces them, where it is not embarrassing to speak of spiritual subjects. I pray other young people are equipped to keep walking in Jesus’ footsteps and listening for God’s voice.
I hope many other young people have a drive to channel their talents for the good of society.
I wish boot camps that young people endure outside the monastery walls had mentors and were safety havens.
A student wouldn’t have to be in the monastery to take Father Hurrell’s advice to heart:
“There will always be tests along the way.
“Allow yourself to grow, to accept challenges and to challenge.
“Act not so much to feel good, but to do good.”
