By: Deacon Lucas daCosta
"Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up his cross and follow after me is not worthy of me."
For nearly a decade, every last week of August has meant one thing for me: orientation week at the seminary. Unlike typical college orientations, the seminary’s program introduces new students not just to a school or program, but to a whole new way of life.
As new men and families arrive at 127 Lake St it's always great seeing them explore the building, marvel at the chapel, and experience all the seminary has to offer is inspiring. Yet, as families leave and students settle into the chapel or classrooms lined with portraits of past archbishops, the reality of their commitment sets in, and this Gospel passage takes on new meaning.
The call to follow Christ is not something you can answer partially, it is an invitation to allow Him to become the center of our lives. Every vocation in the Church whether that be marriage, religious life, or the priesthood begins with this same act of surrender. Before we can follow Christ, we must first decide whether we are willing to place Him above everything else.
That decision is not made only once. It is renewed day after day, often through small acts of fidelity and sacrifice. It is renewed whenever we choose prayer over distractions, charity over selfishness and ego, or obedience over our own preferences. The Christian life is not merely about believing in Christ. It is about following Him, Jesus makes this clear in the Gospel "Whoever does not take up his cross and follow after me is not worthy of me." To follow Christ inevitably means embracing the Cross. This can sound and feel overwhelming or burdensome, but we can never forget that the Cross is not suffering for its own sake; it’s our own participation in the salvific work of Christ and his Church. The Cross looks different for each person. For one person, it may be the sacrifice of caring for a sick family member. For another, it may be the challenges of marriage and family life. But for some, it may start with sitting in a beautiful chapel and beginning to understand that your life will never be quite the same as before.
For those discerning and preparing for the priesthood, seminary formation becomes a unique school of discipleship where we learn what it means to carry that Cross more faithfully. Many people understandably think of seminary primarily as a place of academic study. Certainly, classes occupy a significant part of our lives, but it's not the primary thing we are there to do. The seminary is different from other colleges or graduate schools because it is not meant to only teach about a subject or prepare for a profession, but rather form every part of the man. The distinction is importance, most education seeks to impart knowledge about things or subjects. Formation seeks to shape the whole person, to configure him to a person, to Christ and his cross.
Like the first disciples, seminarians enter with their strengths, weaknesses, hopes, fears, and expectations. They bring talents and limitations, and often find that God’s plans differ from their own. Here, formation becomes an extended lesson in surrender. 'Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.' This central Gospel message continually reframes our experience. Whereas the world points to self-assertion and success, Christ invites a radical shift: fulfillment comes through self-offering rather than self-preservation.
This lesson is one that every seminarian encounters repeatedly. Sometimes it appears in the daily schedule, which demands discipline and fidelity. Sometimes it appears through community life, where patience and charity are constantly tested and refined. Sometimes it emerges through assignments that stretch us beyond our comfort zones. At other times, it comes through moments of prayer when the Lord gently reveals areas of our lives that still need conversion. In each case, the Lord is teaching us the same lesson: following him, becoming a disciple demands surrender.
But the beautiful paradox of the cross is true here as well; far from being restrictive, this surrender is liberating. When we stop trying to hold tightly to our own plans, we become free to receive the life Christ desires to give us. We begin to discover that God's will is not an obstacle to happiness but the path to it, and that it is really in giving our lives that we receive true life. This is experienced in the classroom, chapel, refectory, pastoral assignments, soccer games, and time spent together. Day by day, the Lord forms His disciples through countless opportunities to choose Him again, renewing their commitment to taking up their cross and walking with Him.
Perhaps what surprises many men after entering seminary is that the sacrifices, while real, are not the whole story. Christ never asks us to surrender something without offering something greater in return. For instance, the young man arriving for orientation may feel that he is leaving something behind: the familiar routines of home, certain plans and expectations, and the comfort of knowing what the future will hold. Yet, over time, he begins to discover that Christ isn't taking things away or asking us to give up our lives. Rather, He desires to give something far greater, a deeper freedom, a clearer sense of purpose and mission, and, more importantly, a more intimate friendship with himself.
Herein lies the Gospel’s heart: though the Lord asks us to take up our cross, we are never alone in carrying it. Surrendering our lives, He leads us to true life. Sacrifice is met by joy often found in unexpected places: in newfound friendships, ministry, deepening prayer life, and recognition that the Lord is guiding each step. What once felt like loss is transformed into an unexpected gift, a gift that only a life lived for and with him could give.
Looking back after nearly a decade of orientation weeks, I have come to realize that what I had been witnessing (and experiencing) was not just the beginning of another academic year. But in a real way I was witnessing men responding to Christ's invitation: "Follow me." They didn't yet know where that call would lead them. Neither did the apostles. But like the apostles, they are learning that following Christ begins with trust. It begins with taking up the cross. And ultimately, it leads to the ultimate goal of the Christian life, true friendship and union with Christ.

