Returning to the Mother of Good Counsel Seminary or Mater Boni Consilii Seminary to our more senior brothers, for its 74th Founding Anniversary felt like stepping back into a cherished chapter of my life. Nestled in the vibrant heart of our community, this seminary was my home for seven formative years, where I completed a four-year degree program in Philosophy and delved for a few years into Theology. This homecoming was more than just an event; it was a nostalgic journey through the paths where I once treaded as a young seminarian.
As I approached the familiar gates, the memories began to flood back. Seeing the iconic arches and columns with the familiar façade of the min building immediately transported me back to my first day when I entered the seminary. It still retained its serene ambiance, with the same majestic trees that lined the paths like silent sentinels overseeing decades of history. There is still that silence and serenity that surrounds the area where the noise of the outside world is filtered.
The chapel, a cornerstone of my spiritual journey, stood resilient and timeless. The images, icons, statues, the altar, the Blessed Sacrament and the Divine Presence permeated every inch of my being. It feels that time stopped, and you can just stay there for hours on end, reflecting, meditating and praying. The stained-glass windows, filtering the morning sunlight, cast mesmerizing patterns across the pews—a sight that had always filled me with peace.
The echoes of laughter and camaraderie resonated as I walked past the basketball courts. Here, friendships were forged over countless games, where we learned as much about teamwork and perseverance as we did about the philosophy of Plato and the teachings of Aristotle. These courts were more than just a venue for physical activity; they were a proving ground for the virtues of patience, resilience, and fair play.
The gardens, with their meticulously tended flower beds and lush greenery, were as inviting as ever. These were sanctuaries for contemplation, where many an afternoon was spent in quiet reflection amidst the blooms. Walking through them again, I remembered the many philosophical debates held here, often ending with more questions than answers but always enriching our perspectives. This is also where every seminarian spent countless of hours debating within himself if the priestly life is his calling or it better to be outside the walls of the seminary and be a good Catholic lay-person instead.
The dormitory, which had once been my humble abode, brought back memories of nights filled with earnest discussions and shared stories. The unspoken bond of brotherhood that developed within those walls was palpable. Each room had its own tale, woven into the fabric of our collective experience, contributing to the tapestry of memories that defined our youth.
A visit to the refectory—where we broke bread together—reminded me of the sense of community that pervaded our lives. Meals were more than just instances of nourishment; they were occasions for connection, where we laughed, debated, and prayed together. The familiar aroma of simple, comforting dishes greeted me like an old friend, instantly transporting me back to those days.
Life in the seminary is dictated by the sound of the bell. From the rising o the sun to its setting; from the moment you wake up until you have said your last prayers for the night, the bell will constantly remind you that its time to wake up; recite your communal morning prayers, attend mass, eat your meals, start your classes, take your siesta, perform your manualia assignment, don your sports uniform, take your afternoon showers, dress for evening prayers, enjoy your dinner, spend a few minutes of recreation, study your lessons, recite your night prayers and the final bell to signal lights off, ending your day and wake up again the following day to the sound of the bell.
As I stood there, surrounded by old friends and mentors, it was heartening to see how much we had all grown. Yet, beneath the surface, the essence of who we were remained untouched. The seminary had not just educated us; it had formed us, instilling values and virtues that would guide us throughout our lives.
The Mother of Good Counsel Seminary was more than an academic institution; it was a crucible for shaping character, instilling faith, and fostering lifelong friendships. Attending the 74th Founding Anniversary was a poignant reminder of those priceless years—years that laid the foundation for who I am today. As we celebrated the legacy of this venerable institution, I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the lessons learned, the bonds forged, and the memories cherished.
In the company of familiar faces and under the ever-watchful eye of the seminary’s iconic statues: Christ the High Priest, Our Lady of Good Counsel, St. John Vianney, St. Joseph, I realized that while time may march on, the spirit and essence of the Mother of Good Counsel Seminary would forever be a part of me and countless others who had walked its halls. It was not just a celebration of its past but a reaffirmation of its enduring impact on our futures.
“In all doubts, I fly to thee for guidance. Mother tell me what am I to do.”
Indu ning Mayap a Usuk, Ipanalangnin mu Kami.