A Walk in the Gym

“Let the children come to me and do not hinder them.  It is to just such as these that the kingdom of God belongs.  I assure you that whoever does not accept the reign of God like a little child shall not take part in it.” Mark 10:14-15

In July, I accompanied HI teens to their annual Steubenville conference.  So many shared their insights.  I’m blessed to have grown in their company. For those who attended the conference, you might watch some of the guest sessions online together.  Or you may share an online session that due to scheduling conflicts they were unable to attend.  Teens experienced events worth discussing.  Whether your son or daughter did or did not attend the conference, I encourage you to set quality time aside and visit with them about their relationship with our Lord.

On Saturday night, the conference hosted what I assumed was to be a rather lengthy Eucharistic adoration.  Teens know and can tell you I’m not much of a “retreat” guy.  So a gym is probably a good place for me!  The Missouri State University Arena filled with thousands of singing, roaring, jumping, seat-drumming, praising teens.  Transformation.  Spotlights exposed a priest vested in white as he entered the dimly lit arena holding the heart of Jesus high above.  Teens settled into dignified song.  Seminarians, faces aglow in candlelight, led the procession to the elevated mainstage. An altar awaited its sacred Host.  The priest placed the monstrance on the bare, white linen.  Father reverently knelt to the side and addressed a hushed crowd with John’s written word.  “In the beginning was the Word ….”  He paused while John’s words (1:5) permeated my thoughts … “the light shines on in darkness, darkness that did not overcome it.”

           Fr. Mike Schmitz, his robes dazzling white in the directed spotlights, held the ornate golden monstrance high above his head tracing the sign of the Cross before thousands of teens.  Unsure what to expect, I entered the zone … the moment.    

Soothing music enveloped the procession led by seminarians who inadvertently had extended too far ahead of Fr. Mike.  For me at that moment, the monstrance took on the form of Jesus.  Not to be rushed by the seminarians (apostles or crowd), Jesus paused to bless a section of students praising Him from their seats on the arena floor.  Balcony spotlights radiated their uplifted unified hands.  Others hidden in darkness raised hands with expectations that Jesus might also find, see and bless them.  The procession, impatient, tugged to move forward for it was a large arena with many to greet, but Jesus was not to be rushed.  Light followed Him to illuminate another dark section.  Like a fine wine at the banquet, music flowed.

           

Pronounced with numerous stops, the procession climbed stairs into the balcony crowd.  Light remained upon Him.  Students bathed in the sacred space.  Climbing ever higher, the candle bearers moved to the upper deck, but Jesus calmly diverged to a youngster seated among a few in a wheelchair.  Again, the apostles waited.  Jesus recognized the forethought and extra effort the boy made to be present.  He made his way to the boy.  He paused and blessed the lame in the Light. 

            The procession continued winding through every section of teens.  Jesus blessed them in light.  I must have received a pre-blessing as I entered the arena as impatient as Martha, but the Presence consumed me.  Jesus walked my way bringing the Light and blessing my teens arms outstretched in praise.  A few feet away, a very young Carmelite sister perhaps a teen herself knelt humbly on the concrete deck in the shadows.  Jesus caught sight of her and paused to extend a personal blessing.  Tears welled in her eyes and a smile swept her youth.  As He stepped away, she reached to clutch His garment.  He paused with patience glancing over his shoulder as if to say, “Take your time. It is your moment.”  Soon, she released Him.

          

 Wailing thundered from the upper stairwell.  A teen clearly broken received counsel from a deacon.  Jesus climbed the flight to her.  The apostles waited, tiring.  His subtle pause to bless was enough to preserve her anonymity, her dignity, and to settle her tears to initiate peace.  Jesus climbed further blessing those among the cheapest seats, the most distant, the farthest away.  Light illuminated the darkest of the arena.  Teens’ hands raised high … some broken, some moved by joy, some struggling, some giving thanks ….

            The procession visited every section.  Jesus brought the Light, His sacred heart exposed every section.  Eventually, He returned to the main floor to sections farthest from the altar.  A young girl seated throughout the conference in a special designated area welcomed the Visitor.  She bounced forward.  Her arms and legs flailed uncontrollably.  At one time in our Biblical history, people thought she was possessed.  She was possessed, not by a demon, but by the love of God.  The heart of Jesus traced the sign of the Cross over her with a special blessing.  The procession completed the crowd.  Jesus descended the altar a final time.  Brilliant light accompanied him.  Voices sang praise.  I was in the zone.  Where’d the time go?  Is this how the thousands felt as Jesus stepped onto the boat to rest, to sail away … or to climb the mountain alone to pray?  The heart of Jesus vanished in the tunnel and the arena re-lit to thundering seat rolls and blasting music.  I wasn’t finished …

            Regardless of age or circumstance, visit with your kids … keep visiting … they’re not finished yet either … nor are you …