One Hour in a Journey

It was 11 years ago today, on Sunday, August 23, 2009, at 11 AM, when I attended Mass for the first time at St. Teresa of Avila (Roman) Catholic Student Center.  The day before, I had moved to Valparaiso University to begin my time as a student there.  Attending Mass for the first time at St. Teresa's totally transformed my understanding of faith, and stoked in me a high level of renewed fervor and zeal for faith.

It's a commonly held notion that many youths go to college and lose their faith.  Thinking back 11 years ago, of all the things that daunted me about transitioning to college, I never had any concern about losing my faith.  I think I had a strong enough faith where I knew I would continue practicing it.  Yet aware of how that is a realistic possibility, I reflect today on what kept me in the path of actively practicing faith.

Valparaiso University is a Lutheran school, with Christian-based values that resonate with me.  I felt like it would be an environment that would keep faith at the forefront for me.  I knew it had a Chapel that figured centrally on campus, both geographically and culturally speaking, and I was drawn to the idea of attending Chapel services on a regular basis while there.  Upon starting there, I recognized the university is a heterogeneous mix of people from different denominations and religions, and I noticed some areas of campus had little connection to anything about faith.  And that's probably what contributed to St. Teresa's having such a vibrant community, especially considering that after Lutherans, Roman Catholics are the largest religious group in the ValpU student body.  Like President Heckler once remarked, if the community has strong faith, they are to put it in dialogue with others, which allowed for religious pluralism on campus, including the vibrant community of St. Teresa's.

What immediately left a lasting impression attending my first Mass at St. Teresa's was how the community was filled with people who had abundant faith and loved God by showing support to students like me.  And I sense that's what kept me involved all four years, namely that I found a sense of belonging through connecting with people in the community, both fellow students and people from the wider community in Valparaiso and beyond.  I recall once when my parents came to visit and we attended Mass that I was introducing them right and left to so many people I knew at St. Teresa's.  Furthermore, I was able to develop deep relationships with my Roman Catholic peers, which is something that never really happened before in my life on such a level.

The other important aspect of my St. Teresa's experience was how I learned so much more about Roman Catholicism.  Since there's so much out there to learn, it's important to keep learning all throughout life--and the principle of lifelong learning is something I've embraced as a librarian professional.  Besides learning more about doctrine and practice, I also spent time in deep self-reflection, especially during retreats.

Upon my graduation from ValpU, I celebrated not only earning my degree, but a renewed sense of living meaningfully, with deep purpose.  I came to see how living life intentionally striving in faith is so enriching.  I also came to understand my purpose through the idea of vocation, how each of us is called to glorify God by a certain lifestyle, doing what is specially suited for us.

I've grown in my awareness of this in the years since graduating, especially in the process of discerning the decision to attend graduate school.

I encountered a great insight about calling in a somewhat unusual source, The Opposite of Woe: My Life in Beer and Politics, the memoir of former Colorado Governor John Hickenlooper.  While there were parts of the book that were rather raunchy, I was intrigued by the twists and turns of his path that led from his time studying English in college to work at an oil company to politics.  In the chapter of the book when he considers the decision to run for Colorado governor, he recalls a conversation with someone who had a background in faith-based ministry, who asked him, "Are you called?"  Mr. Hickenlooper remarks that being called is not so much that one makes a choice, but rather feels she/he has no choice but to do something.  That resonates me with deeply as I think about my calling to teach Religious Education.  It was confirmed explicitly by a parent when I was in conversation with her, and has been affirmed more implicitly through conversations with other parents, not to mention the certainty I feel about what I sense inside me.

And that's probably what caused something to stir deep within me a year ago this month, when I watched Moana for the first time.  I was immediately captivated by the story, because it spoke to me powerfully by shedding light on vocation and purpose.  While Moana is encouraged to focus on what's happening on her island, she senses something calling her that was much broader than what was on the island and much deeper.  Her calling compels her to embark on a journey, much like her ancestors, who, as sung in the movie, journeyed through the oceans, reading the signs, and recalling their ancestors to know who they are as people on a journey, even as they constantly would seek new islands as home.  My intuition was confirmed when a friend at church told me about how a God in All Things podcast connected Moana and vocational discernment.

As I make a point to emphasize to my students, faith is about a journey.  We certainly have an end goal, yet the journey is also important, because it shapes us and so much happens while we're on the way, particularly in those critical Kairos moments.

Today, I celebrate an hourlong period 11 years ago that had an extraordinary impact on my life.  And the reason I celebrate is because of what led to that hour, and what has happened since that hour.  The decision I made to attend Mass that day was the result of several factors converging.  The impact of going to Mass that day persisted through continual involvement at St. Teresa's.  And many were impacted because of how I was shaped by St. Teresa's, like those I served in the vicinity of St. Augustine Mission during a week in March 2013, and then all of my 178 RE students over the course of 7 years of teaching.  

Indeed, Sunday, August 23, 2009, is just one of many reasons why I've had such an incredible journey of faith so far, and as I am confident of marvels to come.

The Legacy of 15 Years Larger than Myself

My thoughts turn back toward three extraordinarily significant years in my life as today I mark 15 years since my graduation from Percy Julian Middle School.

Wednesday, June 8, 2005, was the day that capped off my middle school years, a time that was truly more than about being at school, but an experience that shaped me so greatly.  As I walked across the stage at approximately 8:25 PM CDT that evening, based on the timestamp on the photo from that day, I had so much to recall.

Furthermore, that evening was a bit bittersweet, for as I looked back, I realized how special middle school was for me, and I was sad to leave it, knowing that I would never have anything quite like it in my life again, especially before adulthood.

In the midst of all my mixed feelings and emotions that evening, I could have never realized that while I was leaving my time as a middle schooler, I would have the incredible opportunity to go back to middle school, even reliving it vicariously through teaching Religious Education to middle schoolers at Ascension Parish, starting over 8 years later.  

As I constantly acknowledge, teaching Religious Education is such a profound experience for me because it is the convergence of so many significant parts of my life, especially middle school and college years, when my character was shaped so significantly, especially my faith.  Certainly that's why being in the RE classroom touches something deep down inside of me.  And in no other experience in my life have I given of myself so much as I have done with my RE students, who, based on counting just now, number 178 students over the course of 7 years.

It's incredible to think that 15 years ago, those 178 youths were either small children, or, as has now become the case with those I just had in class this past RE year, hadn't even been born yet.  The ways that I grew as a person, especially in faith, laid the foundation for how I would make an impact on them years later.  It's just like how my Julian Middle School experience as part of the first group to graduate after 3 years in the brand new middle school building, laid the foundation for what has come for all those who have followed my classmates and me as middle schoolers in Oak Park in the years since, including many of my students.

Just as with how I laid that foundation for the Oak Park middle school experience, I am able to take my part in something much larger than myself by handing on this gift of faith I have received to my students.  Certainly, being part of something much larger than me is a major legacy of my middle school year.

Teaching RE has given me the chance to impact those 178 lives by making an investment that will surely last for eternity as its goal is for them to reach God's presence in Heaven.  And that's what has driven me in my ministry to the students.  Furthermore, it gave me so much reason to celebrate back on May 19 as we gathered virtually to honor and affirm the 8th graders for their participation in the RE program as we sent them forth into the next stages of their lives.  In spite of the loss of time spent together in class for the last few weeks of the RE year, I was so glad to have the chance to connect virtually, especially for a prayer gathering as we would have typically upon the conclusion of the year.  It was special to do it on May 19 as the anniversary of my college graduation, as I could reflect on how my college years converged with my middle school years to bring me alive in the faith that I worked to hand on to those youths over the past year.  The prayer gathering certainly helped me feel a sense of closure, and I sure hope it did for those gathered.

Watching the virtual graduation ceremonies for the Oak Park middle schools this past weekend really touched something deep down inside of me as I recalled my own graduation, and what it meant for me to celebrate my middle school years that day, even as I celebrate the new group of Julian alumni, as well as at Brooks Middle School.  (I tell my students that I almost ended up as a student at Brooks.)

June 8 has indeed been a special day in my life for these past 15 years.  And as I recall the events of my last day at Julian, and then graduation that evening, I think about all that contributed to giving this day its meaning, which has lived well beyond that day for 15 years and beyond. 

Dad got this photo of me after the conclusion of the virtual prayer gathering for the RE 8th grade students on May 19, 2020, as I finished off another great year of RE and the chance to engage with the faith that was brought alive back in middle school for me.

The Fourth Day for One Decade

For a variety of reasons, my time at Valparaiso University was an extraordinary experience. Many of those reasons were apparent within the first few months, during which I saw many good choices bear great fruit.

One of the best choices I made was to be part of the St. Teresa's community, whose members really reached out and showed me God's love.  It was in that spirit that one day in November, Kathy Jackson, formerly on staff at St. Teresa's, invited me to participate in the Kairos Retreat.

I looked over the form she gave me, and it gave a rather vague description about a retreat with presentations by college students.  I was open to going on a retreat, so I signed up.  When I brought back the completed form and my payment to Kathy, she got super excited.

After classes on Friday, January 15, 2010, I packed up and headed over to St. Teresa's.  Community members volunteered to drive retreatants from Valparaiso to the Lindenwood Retreat Center in Donaldson, IN, where we would spend the weekend.

Upon arrival, Father Kevin, then the pastor at St. Teresa's, was there to greet us, which included tossing a couple of snowballs in our direction.  In the past, he had come for part of the Kairos Retreat weekend, especially for celebrating sacraments, but this time, he would spend the whole weekend with us.  I recall some remark he made about how spending the whole weekend on the Kairos Retreat was like a "birthday gift" to himself, as he had turned 50 just days before.  It meant a lot to have him care about us so much that he would be there the entire time.  (Later on in the weekend, someone read a letter from Dale Melczek, then Bishop of the Diocese of Gary, who affirmed us for participating in the retreat.)

I chatted with fellow retreatants and the student leaders as we got settled that Friday evening.  I sensed something amazing was going to happen. 

As we started, we were instructed to hand over all time pieces and mobile devices, which were to be stored in plastic bags.  The idea of Kairos is that we're on God's time, opening ourselves up to His presence, and so we, as retreatants, weren't to be keeping track of time.  I was a bit uncomfortable handing over my watch, which has great sentimental value, but I was able to speak about its meaning later on, which assuaged my concerns.

The first presentation was a good opportunity to reflect on why we came on this retreat, which we discussed in our small groups afterwards.  My group came up with the name "Tree of Life".

The second presenter shared very openly about some more serious matters in his life as part of the topic "Know Thyself", and that really set the tone for the weekend, about being open and vulnerable as we probed deep within ourselves to know ourselves and better examine our relationship with God.

This sentiment was especially true during the third talk, "Life Map", which focused on sharing the highs and lows of our life experiences.  And this continued through all the other talks given throughout the weekend.

In addition to the presentations and our small group discussions, we also had times of meditative prayer.  We attended Daily Mass on Saturday morning.  And we opened ourselves up to God's healing power during a time of reconciliation on Saturday evening.  When we returned to our group's room after reconciliation, Nathan, one of the adult leaders, bid us good night, remarking how it had been "an emotional day".  Hearing him say that struck me as how the efforts of the retreat leaders really bore fruit in making for such an intense experience.

Indeed, the Kairos Retreat was an intense experience like I had never had before.  It's part of my personality to reflect about myself, and that's what this weekend was all about, as I probed very deeply like never before.

The next day, Sunday, January 17, we had the opportunity to meet with our groups one final time to offer affirmations of one another based on the experience we shared during the weekend.  Before dismissing us to meet with our groups, Nathan said we could take a tissue box if needed.

We definitely had great bonding experiences, not just within our groups, but also with all the others present on the retreat.  Besides the times of serious reflection, we also had fun together, putting on skits, and playing games, like when Father Kevin led us in his extreme version of "Simon Says".

At the end of the weekend, we were each given a small wooden cross.  It was presented to us with the words, "Christ counts on you", and we were to respond, "And I on Him."  I was in such an intense state of mind that I actually knelt down when presented with my cross, and then I stood up and shook the hand of the person who presented my cross, who I believe was Tony, one of my small group leaders.

We also departed with other gifts, like a CD with all the songs chosen by each speaker before and after her/his presentation, and we all left with notes that we wrote to each other throughout the weekend.

It's common for people to leave a retreat feeling a spiritual "high", which may settle down after a few days.  But given the intense nature of this retreat, I left in an intensified spiritual "high" that I physically felt within me, and it lasted for days.  I remember after I returned to campus, I checked my e-mail for the first time since before leaving for the retreat, and I was reminded of all the things that were going to happen in the coming week.  Under normal circumstances, I might have felt overwhelmed, but given the intense power that was burning within me, I just couldn't bring myself to worry about it like I would usually.  Indeed, I had a powerful encounter with God on the retreat that would have a major impact.  I still felt it about a month later when I joined a reunion of our Kairos group at a celebration of Daily Mass, the day after Ash Wednesday.  DUring the homily, Father Kevin invited us to form a circle, and he opened up the floor for us to reflect on the experience, and I shared about what I had felt in those initial days afterwards and further on in the month.

Toward the end of the retreat, we were told that we had spent three days on this Kairos Retreat, and all the time of our life afterwards was the "Fourth Day".

As of today, I've spent a full decade in the "Fourth Day".  In that decade, I've come to appreciate even more what Kairos time is all about.  We sometimes refer to time in terms of the Greek word "chronos", which is a specific time of day, a certain period of time, or measurements of time like hours, days, months, and years.  The term "Kairos" refers to a sense of time in which we have critical moments, and in the sense of faith, those moments are about encounters with God.

There's no doubt that the Kairos Retreat was a weekend in which I had many Kairos moments in encountering God by more deeply pondering who I am and my relationship with Him.  And as I look back, I think that's the value I can continue to find living in this "Fourth Day", as I open myself up in chronos time to Kairos time, in having those profound encounters with God's presence, which are all around me.

Here is a "selfie" of sorts I photographed showing the Cross I received 10 years ago along with the Kairos t-shirt.