yayes
Our seminary before was run like a well oiled machine; precise and on the dot in every scheduled activity. The Father Rector, Mons. Pax, herded his flock and made them follow a strict regimen day in and day out giving emphasis on punctuality. The moment we rose until the time we retired we already knew what to follow, how to do things, and where to do them.
His authority on our lives was not confined within its walls for even as we went home we were required to serve the parish.
To our young minds then, discipline and order was a fearsome image. We sulked in corners whenever Mons. Pax made his rounds with that patented clinking of keys as he walked down the corridor; always fearful of what mistake we might have made or what he might find in us. There was fear in hearing his booming voice, his sharp stare was enough to make us toe the line. Order and discipline was Mons. Pax's daily menu. He became the personification of authority every one at our age loved to hate.
Obedience from a young mind is borne out of fear for its penalty but no mind remains young forever the moment it realizes wisdom. The time when wisdom takes over has come. The young men who loved to hate order and discipline grew up and rose from the immaturity and selfishness characteristic of its age to awaken in a deep sense of gratitude and sincere admiration of Mons. Pax.
His passion for order and discipline is well served for its purpose. It is admirable how he made us felt the pride. There was pride in the uniform, there was pride in our language, there was pride in our acts, there was pride in our identity.
For one, we only went home once a month then spending much of our time during weekends at the study hall and in housecleaning. And when we went home at the end of the month, we spent much time serving the parish.
Every Saturday Mons. Pax never absented himself from his routine round. The seminary must be spotlessly cleaned as he inspected every nook and corner. Everybody had his own assignment to clean, his own area of responsibility. It was our home, its cleanliness was our responsibility was the standing dictum. It was where we learned to accept responsibility in a communal spirit. Home visit was at the end of the month and before we left the Rector saw to it to instill in our minds that we were going out not for vacation. The community was an extension of our lives, we were to report to our respective parishes and serve. There was always a reminder on how we were expected to behave outside. The moment we left we carry our identity with us with dignity and pride.
Second, enrollment during our time was never a problem as the number of freshmen to go in had to be trimmed down based on the available facilities. Mons. Pax sales pitch on vocation campaigns was simple:
GUSTO MO MAGING GWAPO ENTER OLPS! Gwapo each and every seminarian became because like raw materials we were cut into refined pieces of jewel. From the haircut to the clothes we wore, the words and manner we spoke, all bore the distinct identity of being seminarians that every parent in the community shared the pride of having a son in the seminary.
Third, we spent much of our weekends studying. We had two hours study period in the morning, another two hours in the afternoon, and two hours again in the evening. Once in making his rounds during study period he caught one lazy soul excusing himself with "I'm done with my assignment." Mons Pax was quick to answer: "
KAY NANO, MADUNONG KA NA?" Knowledge as he always emphasized is an infinite world to conquer.
As the Chinese proverb says it: If you want to be remembered do either of these three; plant a tree, write a book, father a son. Mons. Pax will always be remembered by his seminarians. He planted trees in our hearts and minds some of which already bore fruit. He has written a book whose pages are written in the lives of his seminarians filled with the wisdom of his words. He has fathered us all with his brand of discipline and order that we carry the pride of sharing them to our children.
In my first article here I declared I wanted my son to enter OLPS. I am still finding it hard to convince him, so I told him, "OK, son, we wait until Mons Pax returns to the seminary."
Take your bow Monsignor Pax, we are grateful for the discipline.
