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.