Fires, Valleys and Ministry

Well, I have survived my first year of working in ministry.  I wish I could tell you it was all hearts and rainbows, but no.  It has been tough.  Some of the challenges I expected, but there were others I did not expect.  And the toll the challenges have taken on my own spirituality have been greater than I was prepared to face.  But I got through it, and I learned a lot about myself, God and His infinite mercy.

Working in ministry is like fighting on the front lines.  People are not afraid to tell you exactly what they think- whether that be about the Catholic Church in general, or your own style of teaching, prayer or presentation.  People are not afraid to tell you how you should be spending your time or what you should be doing to nourish your own relationship with God.  It is like I have a bull’s-eye for all comments, criticisms, and suggestions on my forehead.  And although I welcome such interaction, it can be exhausting to say the least.  I miss that I can no longer just blend in the background.  Nope, I always have to be on the front line with a smile on my face.  Although I expected the front line was hard, I didn’t expect the toll it would take on me.  Had I not been surrounded by people who could help me filter out the good from the bad, who could help me figure out the useful criticism from the not so useful, I fear I would not have made it this far. 

Being on the front line has ushered me into a whole new level of humility.  You see, I am a performer.  I am a trained classical musician.  As a musician, I live in a world where I perform and then people tell me how great it is and then my teachers would tell me what I could do better.  I carried these expectations into my career as a Band Director where the world was very similar.  And, when I started in youth ministry, which is a lot like teaching, I subconsciously carried these expectations into the world of ministry.  These expectations do not work in this world.  Ministry is not about the instant gratification the stage naturally gives.  It’s more like gardening.  Instead of performing on a stage, I am the instrument by which the Holy Spirit plants seeds, waters the seeds, fertilizes the seeds, and makes sure they get enough sun.  And unlike the stage, I do not have complete control over the garden.  I don’t know what happens to the seeds from week to week.  I only know what I do with them on Wednesday night and I rarely see the seeds grow and bear fruit.  Both the losses of control and instant gratification made me very uneasy and I had a hard time figuring out why I was struggling.  But then one day I realized the true issue.  When I am on the stage, it is all about me.  When I am in the garden, it isn’t about me at all- it’s about Christ and the seeds. I didn’t realize how much self-worth I had wrapped up in the stage, how much of my identity was defined by the stage.  My brain knew that it wasn’t about me, but my ego didn’t come to realize it until much later in the game.  In order to stay on the front lines, I had to let go of who I thought I was and face who I really am.  And that was quite humbling.  In fact, it still is.

I often think that my relationship with God is like a moth to a flame.  He is a roaring bonfire and I am the tiniest insect drawn to the beautiful light from the depths of the dark forest.  For reasons I can’t explain, I am drawn to God and mesmerized by His presence.  Like many people, my relationship with God is marked by mountain tops and valleys.  On the mountain tops, I don’t care if the fire burns me.  I am happy to lose myself in the fire.  I am happy to let the fire consume me.  But in the valley, I am suddenly aware of the fire’s heat, and I feel like I just need to take a step back and gaze from a distance.  Even though I get cold and long to be close to the fire, I can’t go there.  The fire is too much for me to bear.  The dark forest is quite inviting.

In this humbling first year of ministry, I have spent a lot of time in the valley.  So much so, that I fear I will never find the mountains.  And the guilt I have in the valley is great.  In my humiliating moments, I should be running to God and seeking his comfort.  I should be practicing what I preach.  Instead, I have withdrawn and hidden myself.  I am ashamed of who I really am now that the stage is gone and I wonder if I am worthy enough or even qualified to be a gardener.  But here in the valley, God has shown me his infinite mercy.  Even though I do not desire the fire as I feel I should, he has shown me that the garden is exactly where he wants me to be.

This Sunday in Mass, after my usual litany of apologies for not being near the fire, I saw Jesus standing next to me in the valley.  With his arm around me, we gazed at the fire in the distance.  In all of his radiance, he looked down at my face, smiled and said, “It is normal for you to fear the fire will burn you.  But, you don’t need to fear it.  I have covered you with the living water.  I have made it so that you can be in the fire and experience its splendor.  You are covered with my blood.”  Although I haven’t made it all the way back up to the fire on the mountain, I no longer feel so alone.  The forest isn’t quite so inviting and the journey up the mountain isn’t quite so daunting.  But most of all, the fear of the fire is being replaced with desire as it pulls me into its glorious splendor all over again.  

Lessons from Ga-Ga

At this year’s middle school PHAT camp (meeting People, Hanging out, Adoring God, and Touring the metroplex), we built the most awesome thing ever: a ga-ga pit.  Ga-ga is a game played in an octagon shaped enclosure with a 3 foot wall.  This project was exciting because I was in on it from the beginning.  I saw the kids fall in love with the game on a retreat.  I saw the idea to build a pit at the church born in the imagination of a fellow youth minister.  I witnessed all the planning of the pit construction- from the miraculous donations of materials right down to the angel who showed up at the 11^th hour with the expertise needed to actually build the structure.  I watched the youth dig out grass, haul wood, and hammer nails in 100+ degree weather.  Finally, at the end of the week, the pit was built and the game was on.  How could I not get in on the fun?

I jumped over the wall.  Immediately, I felt a twinge of a familiar pain in my lower back- my back hasn’t been quite right since the birth of my youngest.  Naturally, I ignored it.  I wanted to play.  The pain was just a twinge and I can certainly get over it.  So, I played.  In order to play, one must spend the majority of the game in a crouched over position protecting one’s feet and shins while in constant motion- probably a chiropractor’s worst nightmare.  It was fun although I was easy prey.  The kids relished getting the adults out quickly and, in my case, somewhat easily.  Anyhow, I played a few rounds.  When I stood up and straightened out my back after the final round, I realized how dumb I had been.  I was in serious pain.  I spent the next two days on the sofa or in a hot bath- two days to come to terms with the fact I am no longer a spring chicken.

This summer, I turn 35.  I can’t claim to be in my early thirties and that makes my twenties seem like ages ago.  In addition to my back issues, my eyes seem to be losing their youth (It’s either that or my arms are getting shorter).  And, after trying different kinds of make-up with no success, I am now seriously shopping for that magic cream to erase the lines around my eyes.  But the real stinger was when I realized the high school youth that out-played me at ga-ga were born the year I graduated from high school.  Yes, I am O.L.D.

My two boys are 7 years apart.  I had my oldest when I was 22 and my youngest when I was 29.  As a 22 year old mom, I was certain I was the youngest parent ever.  I felt as if I had no clue what I was doing.  The mommy wars scared me half to death and in an effort to over-accommodate, my poor son was sheltered from everything from T. V. to candy.  When I had my youngest, I was a 29 year-old seasoned parent and educator.  So, my youngest has gotten to play in the dirt, taste everything from chocolate to dog food and been educated thoroughly in the ways of Spongebob and his square pants.  So, I guess age has loosened me up a little but I’m not sure it has made me any wiser or better at parenting.

When I was younger, I thought that when I reached this point in my life, I will have had a few things figured out.  But the truth is, I don’t.  I know that my experiences have brought me maturity, but I still don’t know if what I’m doing with my children is the “right” thing.  Will my older son be wiser or make better decisions because I made so many of his decisions when he was younger?  Will my younger son be more of a risk taker or have more confidence because I let him explore things more independently?  I don’t know, only time will tell. 

In the meantime, I should probably stay out of the ga-ga pit.  A visit to the eye doctor would be wise.  And hopefully, I’ll find that eye cream soon. But, most importantly, I’ll keep hitting my knees and loving these two boys with all my heart.  That is the best thing this not-so-wise-35-year-old Mommy can do- love them and lead them to the source of love itself.

Raising Saints Instead of Bullies

Bullying was the topic at our middle school youth night this past week.  If you follow the news or have a kid in middle school, you know that the bully factor is an important issue.  Middle school students are more likely than elementary or high school students to engage in bullying and to be bullied.  At this age, they are growing fast.  Their brains are developing the ability to think abstractly.  Their bodies are maturing.  They are trying to figure out who they are and how they fit into this constantly changing world.  All of these factors combine to create these tough middle years in their young lives.  And unfortunately, the bully factor makes these turbulent waters even tougher to navigate.

Low self-esteem is a big issue for these young people.  They are constantly comparing themselves to others and finding flaws with their appearance, social abilities, academic abilities, athletic abilities, etc…  They want to stand out from the crowd yet blend in at the same time.  They want to be someone who is admired, accepted and loved and many times they think that someone is someone different than who they really are.  These feelings of inadequacy lead to bully behavior.  When some young people have low self-esteem, they may pick on others to make themselves feel better.  When the victims are picked on, all their fears about their inadequacies are confirmed.  This obviously has a big impact on how they choose to interact with their peers and perhaps even become bullies themselves.  It is a nasty cycle that can leave lasting scars on these young people, especially in this age of texting, twitter and facebook.

As Catholic parents, teachers and youth leaders, it is imperative that we teach our children about the dignity of the human person.  And that starts by teaching them about how much God loves them- just the way they are.  These young people need affirmation.  They need to feel loved.  They need to know that they are fine in their own skin.  In fact, they are wonderful in their own skin.  While they see all their flaws, we need to point out all their strengths.  While they measure themselves against the world, we need to show them how lovely they look in God’s eyes.  And most importantly, we need to love them how God loves them.  When they find value in themselves, then they are able to see value in other people.  They are more likely to develop the ability to have empathy if they see themselves in a positive light.  Dignity of the human person cannot be taught from a text book.  This concept can only be grasped if they find dignity in themselves.  And that is where the adults in their lives need to work.  We need to be God’s instrument in their search for their own dignity.

I challenge parents to affirm your kids.  Every day, tell them you love them.  Every day, tell them how blessed you are to be their parents.  Tell them all the things you admire about them.  Tell them all the things that make them cool and awesome.  I admit that I can get too critical of my children.  I want so hard for them to succeed that I spend too much time telling them how they can do things differently.  Now, don’t get me wrong.  Criticism isn’t a bad thing.  But, if we don’t balance criticism with affirmation, then our kids conclude that they are failures.  It may be obvious to us that our kids are wonderful, talented and awesome, but it is not obvious to them.  They need to hear it.  So, tell them.  Make it a daily habit.  Help them find their own dignity and then they will see dignity in others.

During our youth night, we talked about the Greatest Commandment: “You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your being, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself.” (Luke 10:27)  We talked about what it meant to love your neighbor as yourself.  We talked about how God has given each person dignity and how we need to honor that dignity with love.  We discussed that because God lives in each one of us, the way we treat others directly reflects on how much we love God.  In order to hammer this point home, I wrote the following piece and read it at the conclusion of our night.  I think it is worth sharing:

I know a man who was bullied.  I know a man who was bullied by an entire community.  He was spit on, yelled at, beaten and humiliated.  His community hated him because he was different.  You see, this man loved God more than anything.  And he obeyed everything God told him to do.  He healed people. He taught about God’s love.  He provided food and nourishment to thousands.  He even washed their feet.  But that didn’t seem to matter.  The community hated him.  And even though he kept loving them, they continued to bully him.  One day, his community decided they had enough of him.  They put him on trial and declared him guilty of a crime he didn’t commit.  At this point, his few friends deserted him.  He was alone.  When they took him from the court room, the bullies stripped him of his clothes and whipped him.   They whipped him until he was almost dead.  But this wasn’t enough.  The bullies decided to make fun of him.  They put a purple robe on him and a crown of thorns.  The robe stuck to his open wounds and the thorns dug into his head.  They laughed at him and called him names.  The bullies pushed him around and spit on him.  But this wasn’t enough.  The bullies decided that this man needed to die.  They took him out in the streets and made him carry a heavy cross.  Some of the bullies were in the crowd.  They yelled at him, spit on him and kicked him when he fell down.  Some people in the crowd did nothing.  They watched him struggle and felt sorry for him, but they didn’t try to stop it.  Some people in the crowd cried and prayed.  They wiped his face when he struggled to move on.  One even helped him when the weight of the cross became too much for him to carry.  But no one stopped the bullies.  No one kept the bullies from yelling at him or spitting on him.  No one called for the torture to end.  The bullies marched him up a mountain where he collapsed in exhaustion.  They stripped off his robe and tore open all the wounds from his earlier brutal beating.  He felt like he was on fire.  They laid his bleeding body on the cross.  New waves of pain exploded in his body as the bullies hammered nails into his hands and feet.  They hoisted up the cross.  Then, they gambled for his clothes as he started the slow process of suffocation.  His mother and best friend stood by and watched him struggle for every breath.  They watched an innocent man bear the weight of a sin he did not commit- the sin of all mankind.  When the weight of that sin had taken its toll, Jesus looked up to heaven and gave up his life. 

Pretty amazing, isn’t it?  I bet you never thought of Jesus being bullied.  The truth is he was bullied- to death.  Put yourself in the crowd.  Who would you be?  Would you be praying?  Would you be weeping?  Would you be trying to comfort Jesus?  Or would you be spitting on him?  Would you be hammering the nails or pressing that crown of thorns on his head?  Would you be standing by and saying nothing?  The choices we make today determine who we are in that crowd.  The way we treat others determines who we are in that crowd.  Who have you been?  Who are you going to be?

Jesus bore the weight of all that sin out of love for you and me.  He took the punishment that we were supposed to endure so that he may spend eternity with us.  He showed us what it means to love another totally and completely by giving us his very life as payment for our sin.  And what does he ask from us in return?  To love him back.  And to love others like He loves us.

If you have been bullied, then you are in good company.  Jesus understands your struggle.  He doesn’t want you to suffer like he suffered.  Ask him to give you the strength and courage to seek help from an adult.  Jesus desires you to have the freedom he won for you on the cross- not fear.