A Young Pilgrim: The (Continuing) Gift of My Youth

Sitting in adoration today, reflecting a bit on part of the homily the priest gave in the Mass preceding the exposition of the Blessed Sacrament, I thanked God for the gift of my high school years. I thanked God not only for the gift to be alive, to have received an education (I do owe so much to St. Louis public education), but more specifically I thanked God for the goodness of those years. Even as I write this now, with barely 8 or 9 months of retrospective, I am aware that my gratitude/knowledge of these years will continue to deepen.

First of all, what do I mean by the "goodness" of those years? Well, I think a good introduction to these ¨"years" was highlighted about a year and a half ago when I visited the Dominican house of formation and a friar (now priest too) commented on a memory he had of me from my middle school years when every Sunday after Mass I`d eagerly and consistently ask apologetic-like faith questions to him and another Jesuit. He had a big smile on his face and mentioned that with such peculiar characteristic I was hard to forget. At the moment I just laughed but I was well aware that I owed much of this ¨"goodness" to God Himself and the people He placed in my path during those years.

High school was, for me, a sort of "dating" of religious life and, to my best attempt, a deepening into a transcendence, a reality, of God's existence in the world.. (in fact, here is a small excerpt from a paper I wrote freshman year about a visit to a Benedictine monastery, that expresses this raw and new "awe" well)

....They chanted with low and deep voices of comfort; quickly I became accustomed. I looked behind me and I stared attentively with awe and silence. A row of beautiful young nuns dressed in habit. A brown veil surrounded their faces while like the flicker of their own candles made their complexion flawless like those of holy saints. With a joy and equal solemnity they stood frozen in time captured in my mind by the glow of my own flickering candle.

I turned, but this time I stared at nothing. It was not an abyss but rather my mind searching within itself. I focused on a crystal window above the ruffled walls. The deep and rich chant continued with its demanding and reverent rhythm.

“♫ Evil bring death to the wicked.
Those who hate the good doomed
The Lord ransoms the souls of the servants
Those who hide in him shall not be condemned ♫”

I listened and at that time I knew I did not understand anything. Everything I knew and did and held and fought for and worried about. Everything I experienced and loved and desired was condensed, compressed in that second. It was compressed in the sound, the thickness of the chant itself. Every thought ended there and yet it emerged from it as well. I began to wonder, as that second passed and the significance expanded from that building upon a direction I didn’t know. I didn’t worry but instead I wrapped myself in every word since I knew this wouldn’t be outside, there society awaited me and this wouldn’t be, not there. Insanity, I recognized reality and I didn’t want to let it go.

For some reason unknown to me, my heart and mind, in those crazy years of high school, were captured wholly into a very honest view of the world and myself within the boundaries of maturity of a 14-18 year-old. And I emphasize (again) that how or why this was touches me deeply. I know full well my ingratitude in prayer to God for this, a grace I've yet to most responsibly penetrated. I have no idea why I wasn't absorbed in the vanities of competitive running (I am a proud graduate of my high school's Cross-Country program), or the competitive spirit of academics (although I was proud to have graduated top 10 of the nearly 500 in my class), or the demand of social activities for Student Counsel (although I deeply enjoyed my post as one of the directors)... or why in the midst of issues like homosexuality, separated parents, immigration disappointments (etc) there was always a graced constancy and hope as well as people (rather blessings!) who became loved companions in the pilgrimage of those "high school" years.

The "goodness" of those high school years perplexes me. My enthusiasm for "nun runs", my huge interest of theology/catechism, my overall blessed and holy experience of those troublesome years, makes me more aware that such "goodness" arrived directly from the goodness and great tenderness of God himself. Sure, call it a somewhat unusual public high school experience but would I have won this neat little award had it been any other way? ;-)

Before ending this little post I hope that it goes without saying that I by no means imply I was a sort sinless/flawless high schooler. God knows that couldn't be further from the truth! We all have our own "demons" to affront in our journey towards holiness and these were fully and boldly present during those years!

Anyhow here are other wonderful images that further express the "goodness" of those years:

"Rejoice, O young man, in your youth, and let your heart cheer you in the days of your youth. Walk in the ways of your heart and the sight of your eyes. But know that for all these things God will bring you into judgment. "Ecclesiastes 11:9