Seminaries, Blood Oaths, and Manly Priests

How well are seminaries doing in forming the priests we need to reform the Church—one dominated by a lavender mafia? A useful assessment is the recently-published 171 page study “Evaluating the Church’s Practices in Assessing the Suitability of Candidates for Holy Orders,” by the Center for Applied Research in the Apostolate at Georgetown University and the McGrath Institute for Church Life at the University of Notre Dame. The study reports on how satisfied bishops, vocation directors, seminary rectors, seminary formators and spiritual directors, and mental-health-care professionals are with the formation seminarians receive. 

The overall satisfaction by bishops with respect to the formation seminarians received was good to very good. There were, however, some areas for which there was an alarming amount of concern. As reported by OSV (all information in this essay comes from the OSV article): 

The report found three areas where it said both bishops and vocation directors were “least likely” to express great confidence in their seminaries. Just 19% to 21% were “very confident” in their formation of seminarians’ “healthy management of one’s neuroses or minor pathologies,” “healthy living with medical concerns or physical limitations” (17%) or “dealing with learning disabilities” (16% to 17%).

It distresses me that it is considered positive that “32% to 43% of these three survey groups said they were confident of seminaries’ ability to enable seminarians to form healthy relationships with others and to seek treatment for mental health issues such as depression and anxiety.” The bar is too low.

Those who had day-to-day contact with seminarians were not confident that the seminaries help those in formation:

• manage neuroses or minor pathologies (with 11% to 23% saying they were “very confident”),
• grow in understanding what the survey termed their “sexual orientation” (8% to 22%),
• soundly manage their unhealthy or addictive behaviors (4% to 22%), or
• manage past unethical behaviors, including dishonesty and financial mismanagement (16% to 17%).

Respondents to the survey identified several topics that likely deserve greater consideration:

• Relations with self or others, including severely damaged relations that preclude healthy interactions and leadership.
• Pervasive developmental disorders that could lead to behaviors incompatible with priestly ministry.
• Inclination or behavior that could presage sexual activity with, or other harm to, minors.

These areas of concern are very serious. Rather than producing confidence, they erode it. Also corrosive to confidence in the ability of seminaries to evaluate themselves well is that less than one-fifth of mental-health professionals agree with the optimism of about half of formation/spiritual directors and two-fifths of rectors who thought the benchmarks for formation are working and that good use is made of the initial psychological exams in designing individualized formation programs.

These areas of study researched, I suspect, are the result of the times in which we live. Someone, someday, has to do a survey on the profile of young men who came into seminaries decades ago when we have some reason to believe many, if not most, were mature personally and spiritually and eager to achieve the virtues needed for the priesthood. Thus, seminaries largely focused on helping them learn the theology of the Church and its history. Personal formation would largely have been a matter of polishing already fine young men who likely had a somewhat realistic view of the priesthood from uncle priests or priests for whom they served at Mass. 

We know now that perhaps the vast majority of the seminarians who have entered after the societal collapse of sexual morality of the ’60s have participated in that immorality; many have grown up in divorced households, and many have little knowledge of the Faith. They need an enormous amount of help to shed bad habits and to fully understand the priesthood. Since the ’60s, seminarian formation—until somewhat recently—did not provide that help but largely exacerbated the problems by tolerating, if not facilitating, both heterosexual (dating was encouraged in some seminaries) and homosexual relationships (overlooked in most seminaries). Teaching the theology advanced by dissenters which justified such behavior as masturbation, homosexuality, contraception, and fornication was another log on the fire. 

Since the early 2000s (and perhaps earlier) there have been attempts to rectify matters, but given that many of those in charge were likely malformed by their seminary formation, not enough has changed. Blessedly, it seems that many seminarians resemble candidates of decades ago; they are from large families, have been raised by devout parents, and have been homeschooled or have gone to schools with strong Catholic identities. Most importantly, they are aware of what corruption they need to watch out for in the seminary (often their mothers make very sure of that!).

One very difficult topic with respect to the state of seminaries was addressed back in 2019 by the McGrath Institute at Notre Dame, titled “Sexual Harassment and Catholic Seminary Culture”; it studied whether seminaries are safe for seminarians—meaning: Did the seminarians feel safe from homosexual predation? What an amazing focus! How sad that it needed to be asked! How bold and risky that it was undertaken! We need more of such boldness.   

Still, although the survey was much needed, and although it asked essential questions, the fact that anonymity made it impossible to reveal which seminaries were found not safe considerably reduced its usefulness. (See my evaluation of the report.) Over the years, I have seen a large number of reports of sexual abuse in seminaries in the ’60s to the present. I have no doubt things are better, but I do doubt if they are yet what they should be. Gene Gomulka has published well-documented and very disturbing reports on the past and current state of seminaries.  

Of the seminarians who responded to the 2019 report, 6-10 percent reported they had personally experienced sexual harassment, abuse, or misconduct. I so wish the same questions that were asked in the 2019 report would have been asked in the latest study—as well as a few more. Additional studies should include questions not only about whether the seminarians have been abused or groomed for abuse but questions about reporting of abuse and grooming; was it reported, why or why not? And, when it was reported, how was it handled? Questions should also be asked about how forthright seminaries are about the presence of homosexual predators in the priesthood. How should seminarians respond to and report any sexual advances made toward them—or reports of other concerning matters? 

It was both encouraging and demoralizing to me that one of my priest colleagues, when I was teaching in a seminary, told me he took aside those about to be ordained and warned them about the predatory practices of some of the priests in the diocese. I fear there are too few who did and who do that.  

These matters are absolutely crucial to the future of the Church; without good priests we will not have good bishops, and without good bishops the Church will never be reformed. The corruption of the Church has been greatly facilitated by the presence of the lavender mafia—sexually active homosexual priests and bishops—who have used seminaries to increase their ranks. As is well known; for decades, the lavender mafia basically ran seminaries and used their dominance to discourage the vocations of heterosexual men and to encourage those of homosexual men. Although the number of healthy heterosexual men being ordained has increased, the hierarchy still manages to find homosexual men to fill empty sees: gays promote gays. This essay is not about homosexuality in the priesthood but about formation practices that groom men to be comfortable tolerating much sinful behavior in the priesthood.

Various attitudes and practices in seminaries serve to form heterosexuals to be exceptionally docile, to welcome homosexuals in the clergy, and, in general, to look the other way when they see something that raises serious concerns (sadly, just about any matter). From day one, seminarians are told to “keep their heads down”; “stay in their lane”; “don’t rock the boat”; and “go along to get along.” Despite the fact that Jesus Himself modeled the virtues of courage and the practice of speaking truth to power and authority, not only are those not cultivated in seminaries but they are discouraged. 

Rather, the promise of obedience is drilled into the men not so much to assist them in being properly obedient but to train them to obey commands that serve to hide wrong-doing by fellow priests and bishops as well—a rather essential “skill” among the current presbyterate. I hope this is no longer a conscious goal of those who run seminaries, but it is one that is embedded in the ethos of seminaries and the priesthood. It is long past time to root it out.

For some time, I have thought that there might be some value in staging an “event” that would identify which seminarians are willing to risk being thought uncooperative and disobedient—and likely to be sent for counseling or even to be dismissed—in order to address a situation of serious wrong-doing. That is, to be a real man and, from my perspective, a possibly good candidate for the episcopacy—the one least likely to be selected for the last half-century or so.

St. John Vianney Theological Seminary, the seminary for the archdiocese of Denver, seems unwittingly to have discovered a technique for doing so. 

Before I go further, let me state that the Denver seminary has a reputation as being one of the best seminaries in respect to formation as well as academics; it has had a propaedeutic year—or “spirituality year”—since 1999, a very valuable element of formation recently adopted by all seminaries. This essay is in no way meant to be an attack on the Denver seminary. What happened there is not the result of something being wrong with it particularly but of something that is a very unfortunate remnant from the period (just yesterday!) when grooming seminarians for homosexual leadership or cover-up was in full swing. 

The “prank” that happened there has all the marks of a project to sap seminarians of the kind of good sense and “watch-dog” protective instincts that mature males possess; in fact, it seemed designed to make them participate in a weird and even demeaning activity, to coerce them into staying silent about it, and to make them susceptible to more coercion (even blackmail?) in the future. I don’t know why it was done, but it too closely resembles previous forms of grooming and likely had unintended deleterious effects.

That such a thing could happen—and that the seminary has counseled the students not to speak of it—shows that dangerous practices still exist even in good seminaries. I know I repeat myself, but I do so to drill home this point.

What “event” am I talking about?  

In July, The Pillar reported on a most peculiar happening (in a peculiarly meandering, repetitive article). The following is my best attempt to compose a coherent narrative.  

The event involved a popular, highly regarded priest, Fr. John Nepil, who was the vice-rector at the time, taught theology, and was the “father” of a house of formation for seminarians. In the middle of the night in the winter of 2024, 15 seminarians invited by Fr. Nepil to a ski outing were awakened and asked to sit in silence in the large living room of their host’s home. The host and the priest were nearby in a trailer where there was a setup to invite seminarians to take a “blood oath” of brotherhood. 

The host (who reportedly suggested the “prank”) was dressed in a yeti costume (some sort of snow monster); on a table was a dagger (a stage dagger), a dollar bill, and a bloody cloth. Fr. Nepil had a camera set up to film the proceedings and told each seminarian that what was about to happen was part of a “sacred tradition” wherein the seminarian would become a member of a “family” from which he could never be released. 

The seminarian was to prepare to have a cut made on his forearm. No cut was made because after a countdown to three the seminarian was told that his willingness to be cut showed that he had the courage necessary to be a part of the brotherhood. A cloth with fake blood was wrapped around the seminarian’s hand. He was then asked to make a blood curdling scream loud enough to be heard back at the home. Duct tape was then put over his mouth, and he returned to the living room. 

Only one seminarian refused to participate. After that, he was released from the seminary for a year of “human formation,” which reportedly was arranged prior to the event. That coincidence of timing for his absence from the seminary is unfortunate and, predictably, doubted by some, since seminarians are often punished for revealing disturbing information. 

The Pillar article states that several seminarians “brought the event to the attention of the seminary staff, the rector, and an auxiliary bishop” when “videos and images of the ritual had begun circulating among seminary students.” Fr. Nepil was relieved of some of his duties at the seminary, reinstated for a while, and eventually removed from the seminary and placed in a parish. When the event came to the attention of Archbishop Aquila, he ordered a “canonical preliminary investigation” of Nepil which concluded that no canonical crime had been committed. Aquila wisely brought in an exorcist to pray over all of those who participated. 

Certain questions arise about the event itself. Were the seminarians asked to give permission to be filmed? Were all filmed or only some? How was the film going to be used? How was it used? How did the seminarians react when they heard the screams? When a seminarian went back to the living room with his mouth taped and the apparently bloodied cloth wrapped around his hand, did the others remain in silence? Maybe they laughed? Did they show any concern? Did all who returned to the living room stay there until all were initiated? And then what happened?

The article says that no blood oath was taken (because no blood was involved?); but that conflicts with the statement that when the seminarians met with the exorcist “they made a formal renunciation of this blood oath that they had made.” What was the content of the oath? Were there any responsibilities mentioned for those who were entering the “family”? How was the presence of the yeti explained as a part of the ceremony? The article noted that the same ceremony was performed with a group of 13 seminarians the year before. Did none of them speak of it? 

The article says the event was reported to the police, seemingly as a hazing event, but the investigation was dropped “at the request of a seminarian who was interviewed as a potential victim.” Was it a seminarian who made the report—the one who refused to participate? Was the seminarian who asked for the investigation to be dropped pressured to do so? 

My focus here is not on Fr. Nepil. He apologized for what he has characterized as an imprudent prank. It is unfortunate and almost unbelievable that he did not understand that such a “prank” continues the practice in seminaries of inculcating a spirit of abject obedience—rather than true masculinity which finds a way to oppose bad behavior, even that of superiors. Again, I do not wish to focus on the seminary itself but to use this incident to explore how any seminary should react with respect to such a situation. I believe that the ethos that led to the incident is pernicious and is an ethos which too many seminary staff and faculty are still incapable of seeing. After all, an unhealthy understanding of obedience was very much a part of their formation.

The Pillar article notes that an email was sent to the seminary community that requested that the matter not be discussed within the community or with others. It is hard not to equate that request with the practice of cover-up of priestly abuse. Opportunities for discussing the matter—in several different fora is, to my mind, a necessity for overcoming the likely damage done and for ensuring that it does not happen again. 

The negative impact of keeping such an event hidden is worse than letting it be known, especially if it is handled in a mature and honest fashion. Being open about mistakes made makes it more likely that the Church will learn from those mistakes. Not being transparent breeds suspicion and distrust and makes it more likely that those mistakes will be made again.

I don’t know all the particulars of how the seminary reacted, but I would like to use the event to make some general recommendations on how the event should have been handled. I don’t claim that my recommendations are the only or even the best ways to respond, but they give sense of an approach very different from what seems to have been followed.

These are four things that need to be done within the seminary community when dealing with such a problematic situation:

1) The faculty and formators should meet to analyze what happened and why it is problematic. 

2) Meetings should be held individually with the participants to hear their versions and concerns about the event. 

3) The participants should also meet as a group to discuss what happened and what would be a proper response to such an event. 

4) Finally, there should be a meeting for all of the seminarians, even those who were not there, to explain what went on and what can be learned from such a foolish activity.

What should go on at these meetings?

The faculty and staff should discuss why such a “prank” is unthinkable for a seminary—especially when conducted by a vice-rector who is also a faculty member and formator. I hope the seminary authorities realized the “prank” resembles too closely practices that can lead to excessive docility and possibly make seminarians susceptible to blackmail and even some indifference to the power of oaths and the occult. I hope they reflected upon the need to educate the seminarians on why they should never agree to participate in such an event nor, of course, to agree to be filmed doing something that could be misinterpreted or used against them. The seminary authorities need to help seminarians become ready to deal with highly problematic situations—for they will certainly face such in their priesthood. They need to learn when to report serious matters, to whom, and how. 

The administration certainly should reconsider if they were right to delay informing Archbishop Aquila about the event for several months. When the archdiocese learned of the incident, the archdiocese launched an investigation. Was none made previously by the seminary?

In meetings with the participants, the seminary faculty and staff should carefully sound out the seminarians about what went on and how they responded. My suspicion is that virtually all the seminarians coming into the trailer, upon seeing the yeti figure, would have laughed or raised quizzical eyebrows. Some might have gone along with it as a prank they thought to be funny. (Males can have warped senses of humor, as we all know!) 

Did any of them think they were really being asked to take a formal oath? Were they comfortable being filmed? Did they have misgivings about the whole situation? Did they express them? Did they feel free to refuse to participate? If any of them expressed concerns, what response did Fr. Nepil give? Did the seminarians have any concern about their brother seminarians who may have felt coerced into participating? Did they discuss it among themselves? What was the collective sense of the reason for and effect of the “blood oath” ceremony? 

How did the seminarians respond to the sole seminarian who refused to participate? Did they criticize him? Defend him? Did the other seminarians consider reporting the event to the authorities at the seminary before the film began to be circulated? Should they have had hesitations? What hesitation would they have for reporting it? To whom should they have reported it? What approach should they have taken?  

Some seminarians might be able to participate and shake it off as a prank, but others would be very troubled by the nature of the prank and it being filmed but be afraid to object or refuse to participate because they fear being labeled uncooperative and critical of one’s formator. Again, I am not saying that things are particularly bad at the Denver seminary or that the men who failed to object to the “prank” or report it are particularly lacking in manliness. I believe there are few seminarians in any diocesan seminary in the United States who would have acted differently. 

As those of us who have taught in seminaries know, seminarians live in a kind of constant fear that they will do something that will trigger a formation “issue.” Admittedly, that fear is not entirely unfounded since seminarians often have issues that need to be addressed. Yet, seminarians should be encouraged to report matters of serious wrongdoing by other students and by faculty and staff—perhaps to an ombudsman who will protect their identity. It is telling that seminarians do not fear offending the authorities if they fail to report some truly problematic situation. 

Unfortunately, their fear about reporting serious wrongdoing or lapses of judgment is a very rational fear. Questioning the judgments or actions of formators, faculty, and staff have quite frequently brought a referral to a psychologist, a leave from the seminary, or even dismissal. The “blame the messenger” practice is alive and well in seminaries. It must be changed.

Then—and even now—the whole of the student body should be gathered to talk about the event and to consider many of the questions posed above. Seminarians should be asked how they felt when they saw the film or heard about the event. What have they been hearing from people outside of the seminary? What concerns do they have about how the seminary responded. Were they satisfied with Fr. Nepil’s apology? Do they think he was treated mildly or harshly?  

What happened at Denver, both the “prank” and the response by the seminary, is of some considerable importance not so much because of the event itself but for what it discloses about the ethos within seminaries. The culture that led students to participate in the “prank” and fail to object to it and report it shows that serious attention needs to be paid to some fundamental elements of formation. I think great attention needs to be paid to the question of the proper limits of “obedience” to authority within the priesthood. 

I have heard priests speak of the promise of obedience binding them to just about anything a bishop commands. That belief, sadly, may have been what got seminarians to share a bed with then-Cardinal McCarrick. It certainly has been behind a lot of the cover-up. Serious attention needs to be given to the practice of “keeping quiet” about problematic things that have happened (the symbolism of the duct tape over mouths is particularly chilling!) or we may never escape from the culture of cover-up in the Church.

It is ironic that one of the major topics of formation at seminaries, according to the recent study, is that the seminarians be vulnerable and transparent. I suspect achieving such would be easier were the institution to practice vulnerability and transparency.  

Much of the Catholic public now knows the scandalous practices of seminaries for over a half-century, though one is hard pressed to get anyone in authority to admit it. I once expressed to a top administrator that it would be wonderful for a particular seminary—one that has given the American Church a large number of homosexual bishops—to apologize for its record (I can’t have meant that seriously!). He said he had no idea what I was talking about. But Pope Benedict did; in 2023 he observed: “In several seminaries, homosexual clubs operate more or less openly.” He found it most prevalent in the United States and said it contributed to the “collapse of formation of priests.”

The priesthood needs manly priests, but not manly by the measure of being willing to have a cut made in their arms to make a bogus blood oath. We need priests who have common sense and can spot abuses of power—priests who will stand up for themselves and others who are being mistreated. Those changes are not small—they are crucial to the reform of the seminaries, of the priesthood, and of the Church.