My mother was my first teacher. The very first book I read, I read with my mother. The book is called “My First Bible Stories.” It is a collection of short stories from the Bible made specifically for kids: large and colorful pictures with simple and short words. This means, then, that I was learning about God as early as when I was just learning about words. And for quite some time, it was the only book I could read because my mother did not introduce any other book aside from it. So I would read “My First Bible Stories” time and again. That was not the beginning of my vocation, but that was the start of my fascination for things that have to do with God.
When I was a kid, I liked going to Mass. My grandmother and I would go to Mass in the chapel near our house or sometimes in Quiapo Church, the shrine of the Black Nazarene, of which she is a devotee. I liked singing in the Mass and liked being at a church. This is why when I was in Grade 4, at around eleven years old, I signed up to become an altar server in our local parish in Santa Cruz, Manila. I became an altar server and I stayed in the ministry for six years. I sometimes tell people I grew up, got to know myself for the first time, and got to form my identity in our parish, with my fellow altar servers, with our parish priests, and with its parishioners. They would tell me to enter the seminary because they thought I would make a good priest. That was when I first began to entertain the idea of priesthood. At that time, my thinking was: What is not to like about the priesthood? You get to say the Mass, wear fancy clothes, speak in fancy languages; you get to be loved by your parishioners, admired by many, and respected by people. I was drawn to the priesthood because I wanted to become like the priests I saw in our parish, who, by the way, are very good priests.
So I spent my adolescent years believing I would become a priest. I would even calculate the years it would take until I finish my formation, then become a parish priest, then become a bishop, then become the archbishop of Manila, then become the pope. Even as a child, I was already ambitious. I mention this not to mock my younger self nor to dismiss my initial attraction to the priesthood. I say this to highlight the realization that occurs to me whenever I reflect on those juvenile years. Yes, I felt called. Yes, I loved the Lord. But my intentions were not yet mature.
And that was probably why I was always late—late for seminary applications. After grade school, I reached out to the minor seminary of the archdiocese of Manila, told them I wanted to apply, only to be told that the application period was already closed. I was late. So I went to another high school. And I did well in that school—very well that I was able to imagine myself not in the priesthood, but in some other careers. I developed a talent for speaking, writing, and leading people. So it became clear to me that being a priest was not my only option: I could probably be a good priest, but I could also be a good lawyer, a good teacher, a good journalist. In the face of these prospects, and during a particularly hectic final year of junior high school, I decided to leave the ministry of altar servers to devote more time and energy to different engagements—acads, orgs, etc. etc. Sometimes, I regret leaving. But I find consolation in the fact that leaving allowed me to see myself in a new light.
But even though I was able to see myself doing other things, the desire to become a priest remained. It was in junior high school that I first read the mass in Latin, when I first read (though hardly understood!) the code of canon law, when I first read that thick book called Catechism of the Catholic Church. It was also when I developed an interest in liturgy after reading a book by the Benedictine monk Anscar Chupungco. That’s how my love for God and his Church is expressed—by reading, by knowing more. Mine was indeed a faith seeking understanding.
So after junior high school, I tried to apply to the seminary again. And, guess what, I was late again. I was told that if I really wanted to enter the seminary, I had to try again next time, for college seminary. So I went to a different school for senior high school. I took the Humanities and Social Science strand because I really wanted to do Philosophy, which I understood to be a required preparation for theological studies.
I did not try applying to the seminary again for college. I went to the Ateneo because I felt I would meet like-minded people there: smart people who love the Lord. And I did. I met the Jesuits. I took my Jesuit brand of education seriously, took to heart magis, multum non multa, the Ignatian indifference. But I did not think of joining the Jesuits right away. I followed the invitation of Jesuit philosopher Fr Roque Ferriols, Lundagin mo, beybe! (Take a leap, baby!). Entering college, I committed myself to try different things out. And try things out I did: different orgs, different relationships, different academic fields, befriending people I would not otherwise befriend, going to different places. I took a leap to try things I hadn’t tried before. And I consider that an integral part of my vocation.
I have put myself out there already, in many ways, on many occasions, and yet I feel that there is a gap within me, a dryness, a hunger. There must be something more. I realized doing what I like, even the things I love, is not enough. Having friends is not enough. Earning my own money is not enough. I tried different orgs, different relationships, different fields, different friends, different places—God is there, definitely God is there—but in these things, I am not as close to God as I desire to be. I want to be nearer to God, because close to God, I feel most alive, most loved, most secure. This is what I discovered in a retreat last Holy Week.
Last Holy Week, I went to a retreat in the Sacred Heart Novitiate. I entered the retreat not asking God whether or not he wants me to be a Jesuit or to be a priest or to be a Jesuit priest. I entered the retreat to take a rest. To let God speak and to just listen. The question I brought to the retreat was very general, “What’s on your mind, Lord? Please speak.” In that retreat, I was able to recognize my consolations and desolations. My experience with the Jesuits came to mind, and I found them among my deepest consolations. I have worked with several Jesuit brothers and fathers—thought with them, spoke to them, debated with them, ate with them, had chismis with them, laughed with them. And when I look at them, I see happy people. They are not without issues, not without tensions, not without fluctuations of faith, but they are generally people with interior happiness and contentment. What attracted me most, then, to the Society were not the posters, not the MTJ, but Jesuits living their lives happily. When I am in their community, I am at peace. I am at peace with the companions of Jesus. At first, I thought I just wanted to be in the company of the companions of Jesus, a friend to the Jesuits. But in the same retreat, my director asked me what my image of God is. I said I see God as a teacher, one who knows me very well and my strengths and my weaknesses. It was through articulating this image that I discovered my desire to draw even nearer to Jesus, my Teacher—a desire “ever ancient,” since it has always been there, and “yet ever new,” as it had never before been expressed in that way.
It took me some time after the Holy Week to decide whether to contact the Jesuit vocations team. Early last month, I reached out, expressing my interest to hear the Lord’s call better. I told Fr. Joel Liwanag I attended an MTJ in November 2022. The email was sent on June 6, 2024, just a few weeks before the entrance day for this year’s entry to Arvisu House. In the past, I was late to the seminary not only once but twice. I was always late. But not this time. This time, I was just almost late, but not quite.
Now, I am here because the desire to be totally owned by God persists. This time it’s more mature. This time it’s motivated not by intentions like to be loved, respected, and admired, the motivations I had when I was younger. This time it’s motivated by the peace and contentment God alone can provide, by his side, close to him. In my heart is the desire to become a Jesuit. Now, in a sense, it’s God’s turn to let His desire be known. I listen so that I can hear more clearly his voice.
Filipino candidates to the Society spend their first few nights at Arvisu House listening to each other’s “vocation story.” On the night of 24 July 2024 Vince delivered his, although he would rather call it a “spiritual autobiography.” Originally from Sta. Cruz, Manila. He conducted research at the UP Third World Studies Center while pursuing an MA in Philosophy at Ateneo de Manila, where he completed his undergraduate studies in philosophy and history in 2023. On 1 August 2025, Vincent Halog entered the Jesuit novitiate at the Sacred Heart Novitiate in Novaliches. There, he begins his formation as a Jesuit.