The seminary, a formal institution for training Catholic priests, arose as a deliberate and necessary response to widespread decay in clerical education and morality, as well as the profound shockwave of the Protestant Reformation.
By Valentine Obienyem
The recent write-up by Rev. Fr. Prince Chidi Philip, a Nigerian ordained in South Korea, has stirred considerable debate. In his reflection, he states that had he undergone seminary formation in Nigeria, he might never have become a priest – not due to lack of vocation, but because of a system he describes as toxic, traumatising, and heavily influenced by favouritism. He contrasts this with his formation in South Korea, where, according to him, candidates were first formed as human beings before being trained as priests. He speaks of a culture that respected emotional well-being, individuality, and quiet strength, as opposed to what he perceived as harsh, impersonal, and often politicised formation practices in Nigeria. He credits his ordination to divine intervention, suggesting that God removed him from an environment that could have extinguished his vocation.
The immediate question here concerns the state of vocations in South Korea and Nigeria. The truth is that there is a boom in vocations in Nigeria. Suppose South Korea needs 20 priests but has only 10 seminarians available, while Nigeria also needs 20 priests but has 100 seminarians in formation – what happens?
The variables in both countries are not the same, and this naturally affects vocation dynamics. Differences in cultural, economic, and ecclesial contexts influence how each Church responds to spiritual and pastoral demands. This is the reason while some Church documents give the local bishop the powers to adapt certain things according to their peculiarities.
Since the publication, numerous responses have emerged. While some have praised his honesty, others have criticised his generalisations. Commentators such as Nnaemeka Martin Azuka Chinyelugo, Glory Rebel Okotie, Oluchi Ezeani, and Mmaduabuchi Idoko have used the opportunity to voice their own concerns – though in many cases their arguments betray a limited understanding of the seminary system. Clearly, some see it as an opportunity to release bottled-up anger. I acknowledge that some who attended the seminary may have been treated unfairly, but I firmly believe that most formators act without malice, even when mistakes are made
Dom Ebubeogu’s account, while thought-provoking, is not without its contradictions. One is left to wonder: would a seminarian, upon completing his formation, actively shop for a bishop to ordain him? Is he not already incardinated into a diocese or affiliated with a religious congregation, both of which determine the course of his ordination? The suggestion implies a degree of personal agency that is at odds with the structured and hierarchical nature of priestly formation in the Catholic Church
This controversy raises a series of important questions: Was Fr. Philip right or wrong in his assessment? Did he use the right channels to air his views? Is his experience unique, or does it point to deeper, systemic flaws in Nigerian seminaries? Could his concerns have been better framed to inspire dialogue rather than division? Do current formation practices truly reflect the Church’s ideals, or are there gaps between theory and practice? Are seminarians offered safe and respectful ways to express trauma or raise concerns? How can seminaries balance the demands of discipline with the need for compassion and personal growth? Are South Korean seminaries better than ours? If so, what lessons might be drawn from their formation models?
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These are necessary questions that invite honest introspection and offer the Church a chance to examine how best to nurture – not frustrate – the grace of vocation. It is, therefore, necessary to revisit the seminary itself as an institution, its purpose, evolution, structure, and spirit. In doing so, many of the current concerns and questions will naturally find more informed answers.
The seminary, a formal institution for training Catholic priests, arose as a deliberate and necessary response to widespread decay in clerical education and morality, as well as the profound shockwave of the Protestant Reformation. Before the Council of Trent mandated their establishment, candidates for the priesthood were trained haphazardly, often through informal apprenticeships under parish priests or in cathedral schools of uneven quality. Some, if privileged, were sent to universities. However, the result was frequently the same: poorly educated priests with minimal grasp of Latin or theology, and moral standards that had collapsed alarmingly. Clerical ignorance and misconduct had become scandalously widespread.
This internal crisis within the Church coincided with, and in many ways helped spark, the Protestant Reformation of the early 16th century. Erasmus of Rotterdam, often said to have “laid the egg that Luther hatched,” was a leading voice calling for renewal. Deeply critical of corruption, ignorance, and abuses within the Church, Erasmus nonetheless remained steadfastly Catholic. He championed reform from within, not rebellion. Unlike Martin Luther, whose response led to a dramatic break from Rome, Erasmus sought to heal the Church without dividing it. This is precisely my issue with Luther: while he rightly opposed genuine evils, true reformation ought to have taken place within the fold, not by tearing it apart.
The Reformation fractured the unity of Western Christianity, challenged Rome’s authority, and ignited decades of theological conflict. The Catholic Church, confronted by the threat of losing not only members but moral legitimacy, was forced to examine itself with painful honesty.
In this climate, the Council of Trent (1545–1563) became the defining moment of Catholic reform. Recognising that the root of many of the Church’s problems lay in the poor formation of its clergy, the Council ordered that every diocese establish a seminary. These were not to be merely academic centres but institutions that would shape the future priest in doctrine, discipline, prayer, and virtue. Seminaries were envisioned as seedbeds where vocations could be carefully discerned, nurtured, and protected. It was one of the most transformative decisions in the Church’s history, aimed at correcting past failures and safeguarding the sanctity of the priesthood.
The formation of Anglican seminaries followed a similar trajectory to that of the Catholic Church. In the early days, Anglican clergy were typically trained through apprenticeship, learning under the guidance of experienced priests or bishops. However, recognising the inadequacies of this informal method, much like the Catholic Church had done earlier, the Anglican Communion began to establish formal seminaries in the early 19th century. These institutions provided structured theological education, spiritual formation, and pastoral training to prospective clergy.
Beyond Christianity, many other world religions have developed their own systems for training religious leaders. In Judaism, yeshivot serve as centres for rigorous study of the Torah and Talmud, producing rabbis and scholars. Islam trains its clerics – imams, muftis, and ulama – through madrasas. Hinduism relies on gurukuls and Vedantic schools, where students learn under a guru. Buddhist monks, especially in the Tibetan tradition, study in shedras. Though the names and methods differ, the essence remains the same: the formation of spiritually and intellectually capable leaders for service within their respective faith communities.
This vision of seminaries was later enshrined in the 1983 Code of Canon Law. Canon 232 affirms that the Church has the exclusive right and duty to train future priests. Canon 237 mandates each diocese to establish a major seminary or collaborate with others to do so. Canon 250 sets out a curriculum that includes philosophy, theology, scripture, canon law, and related disciplines. Canon 246 insists on a deep spiritual life centred on the Eucharist, the Liturgy of the Hours, confession, and Marian devotion. Note that Seminaries everywhere are guided by the same canon.
Having passed through the seminary, I can testify that its formation is both rigorous and holistic. Built on four foundational pillars: human, spiritual, intellectual, and pastoral. It seeks to shape the entire person for priestly ministry. Human formation develops maturity, discipline, and emotional balance; spiritual formation deepens one’s relationship with God through prayer, sacraments, retreats, and spiritual direction; intellectual formation provides a strong academic grounding through years of philosophy and theology; and pastoral formation exposes seminarians to real-life ministry in parishes, hospitals, schools, and prisons. Together, these pillars aim to produce priests who are not only learned but also spiritually grounded, emotionally stable, and pastorally effective.
A typical day in the seminary follows a structured and contemplative rhythm: rising, morning prayer, Mass, and classes, followed by afternoon prayer, lunch, siesta, study, games or manual labour, the Rosary, dinner, more study, night prayer, and lights out. From evening prayer until the next morning’s Mass, seminarians observe “magna silentia” – a period of silence for reflection and inner stillness. I vividly recall Msgr. Jeremiah Ikegbusi, who introduced this tradition by remarking that even if the Pope visited during that time, we were not to speak to him!
On Wednesdays, conferences are held where the Rector meets with students to review activities, offer guidance, or announce disciplinary measures- rebukes, manual labour, suspensions and expulsions. Seminary life mirrors a monastic rhythm: prayer, study, silence, manual work, and community living. Its goal goes beyond academic excellence; it strives to form men of character and faith. As captured in the motto of my alma mater, St. John Bosco Seminary, Isuaniocha, “Christus in Opere, Studio et Ludo” (“Christ in Work, Study, and Play”). The seminary seeks to raise priests who live the faith with integrity and serve the Church with zeal.
While seminaries are essential for priestly formation, they are not without shortcomings, which sometimes depend on the training and understanding of the formators. In some cases, the environment can be overly rigid, allowing little room for personal expression or emotional growth. Favouritism can affect decisions, and genuine concerns may be dismissed without proper channels for redress. Formation may focus more on external piety than on real spiritual or pastoral maturity, leaving some feeling more like survivors than well-formed priests. These issues do not define every seminary but highlight the need for ongoing reflection and reform.
I have mentioned the natural faults of seminaries, which are common to all institutions founded and managed by sons of Adam. Yet, we must admit that these faults are minimal in seminaries compared to other institutions. For this reason, seminaries remain the best institutions in the world for training. Often, when some ex-seminarians interact with others and their seminary background is discovered, comments like “no wonder” follow. However, that does not mean some ex-seminarians are not wolves
It is important to acknowledge the role of a Rector in seminary formation. As seminarians, we had a Rector named Fr. Joseph Nwanna, who, to this day, is widely respected by all who passed through under his leadership for his deep understanding of the psychology of training. Let me share two examples that illustrate his approach.
Once, on a Wednesday, I was plucking mangoes with a few others when someone called my name. Fr. Nwanna came out of his room and saw us. He simply said, “Even you, Val?” Then he asked me to write down the names of everyone involved and bring the list to him before the conferences that day. I knew this meant either suspension or expulsion. I quickly wrote an apology letter and delivered it to his house. That was the end of the matter.
In another incident, a comrade named Celestine Oguegbu OSTENDE sneaked out of the school and was caught by Fr. Nwanna. When Oguegbu explained he was hungry, Fr. Nwanna showed empathy and invited him to his office. What could have resulted in expulsion turned instead into a father–son dialogue about improving the students’ feeding so they wouldn’t feel the need to sneak out. It was during this conversation that pap and beans were introduced into our menu at St. Domnic Savio Seminary, greatly improving the general quality of our meals.
Fr. Nwanna taught us that discipline combined with compassion shapes better formation. His leadership remains a model for understanding and balancing correction with care.
There is a pressing need for seminaries, especially major ones, to have professional psychologists as part of their formation team. The emotional and mental wellbeing of seminarians is crucial, and trained psychologists can provide vital support in addressing trauma, stress, and personal challenges that may arise during formation. Beyond psychological support, seminaries should also invest in spiritual directors who are well-trained in accompanying seminarians through their unique spiritual journeys. Additionally, regular meetings and workshops among formators are essential to share experiences, discuss challenges, and adopt best practices for continuous improvement. Seminaries also need updated curricula that integrate modern pastoral challenges, including training in communication skills, counselling, cultural sensitivity, and social justice issues. Enhanced facilities, such as recreational and counselling spaces, help create a balanced environment where seminarians can grow physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Lastly, establishing clear channels for feedback and redress allows seminarians to voice concerns safely, promoting transparency and trust within the formation community. Together, these measures ensure that seminaries not only produce well-educated priests but also compassionate, resilient, and holistic ministers for the Church and society.
In a world often sceptical of religious commitment and clerical authority, the seminary remains one of the Church’s most vital institutions. It stands not merely as a school, but as a sacred space where future priests are shaped into shepherds of souls – men of prayer, character, learning, and pastoral zeal. The Protestant Reformation may have exposed the failures of the pre-Tridentine Church, but it also provoked one of the greatest internal renewals in Catholic history. The seminary was the fruit of that renewal, and it continues to serve the Church with quiet, steady purpose – cultivating holiness in those who will one day serve at the altar and in the vineyard of God.
Obienyem wrote from Awka, Anambra State
