When I was a freshman in high school, I wore a cross necklace religiously (pun intended). I wore it in every photo, for every event, and even slept in it. For me, it was a statement- I am a Christian, and I am not ashamed; yet I never paused to reflect on the meaning behind the symbol. The cross holds heavy meanings, and is one of the most easily identifiable symbols in modern day. Crosses are everywhere- in Instagram bios, art, jewelry, tattoos, you name it. And while the literal meaning of the cross is evident, each person has their own takeaway and opinion that makes the cross around their neck or on their wrist special to them. Personally, the cross is an undeniable proof of love. In some Christian sects, crosses are scarcely seen in worship areas, and denomination members are highly discouraged from wearing crosses or having them in their homes. The rationale is that Christ’s life and mission was a model for us, and that the most important part of Jesus’ life was the day that he rose again. The faulty part of this theology is that it puts Christ’s death as almost insignificant, when in actuality, it is the most significant love story that this world has ever witnessed. Jesus never had to go through with his death sentence if he had just proved He was who He said he was to the Sanhedrin, but he accepted his lot and carried the wood that would end his life on his back. And when he made it to the mountaintop where he would die, he let his hands and feet be nailed down. The thing about death on a cross was that it wasn’t reserved for the likes of a king, and definitely not the king of kings; it was for lowly criminals and murderers. Yet this was the way he died. Not glamorous. Not even slightly comfortable. And definitely in a way in which most subjected to it could have compassion for their executioners. It wasn’t humility or a political agenda that drove him to this, but rather, love. Jesus could’ve snapped his fingers and given the world grace, but instead gave it through the most inhumane sacrifice because he wanted to. Because his love for his people was more than the fear of pain and death. If you asked me where that cross necklace is now, I wouldn’t be able to tell you. I wore it in a time where my identity as a Christian was more important than my understanding of Christ. But this knowing of love that lived through death, this immeasurable gift- it goes beyond a fashion statement and symbol- it’s a love best shared with all.
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So Eric texted me this week asking me to share my spiritual journey with you guys and my first thought was when did I get old enough to have a spiritual journey???? So now I feel old but I’m only 20 and I promise I’m still cool, just ask Chris about my hilarious snap chats. But anyways I guess my journey truly started when I was sitting exactly where you guys are sitting listening to possibly the kindest two people I have ever met telling us how loved and adored we were by both God and them and to be honest… I thought they were full of it. How could these two care so deeply for each of us? We were all punk kids sitting in that room mostly because our mothers forced us to come in each Sunday; I didn’t understand Eric and Angie’s love and respect for us and by extension, I definitely didn’t understand Gods’. Now to give some context into my life at this point and hopefully help you guys relate to me some ways; here’s what life to 16 year old Kaylee was like. While I had great friends, an officer position in my theatre company, a job where I got free snow cones, and had just gotten my drivers license I was honestly pretty sad when I was alone. My older sister, who I ADORED, had just left for college and my Dad was on a 6 month long business trip so most days I felt pretty lonely. Sixteen is a strange and stressful age to begin with, school can suck so bad (I promise it gets better) and parents can make it so much worse; on top of all this I was carrying around some pretty dark stuff. I let my demons control me rather than trying to let God control them. I never thought anything could take the heartache away least of all a confirmation class full of strangers and a couple of volunteer teachers, but that is exactly what happened. So through out the fall semester I came to confirmation class and I listened to what Eric and Angie had to say and as I participated Eric was slowly convincing me that God truly cared for me. Then thanksgiving break hit and disaster struck. My sister came home and she happened to be one of the only people who knew about that dark stuff I mentioned, well she decided to tell my mom. In hindsight I know now that she was trying to help me but in that moment my sister had just betrayed and revealed a part of myself that I hated to my parents. I was a wreck. For about a week anytime I was alone, I was crying, constantly. At one point I even cried my way through a McDonalds drive through, going from reserved tears to all out sobbing because the poor freaked out dude told me to have a nice night and said it extra sincerely because he could see I was upset. All I wanted was for someone to ask me what was wrong and finally someone did; Eric. Like I said I was in constant tears when I was alone so confirmation class rolled around and I sucked it up, put on a smile (probably more of grimace) and went in. Once again Eric ended the class with how loved and cherished each one of us were by God, this shook me enough that Eric noticed and asked me to stay after class to see what was up. As I sat there pouring my heart out to him, Eric listened and handed me tissues and politely ignored snot bubbles. Eric was kind and patient and gave me Jesus’s advice on how to forgive people we don’t necessarily want to forgive. That night I walked out and for the first time that week I felt relief and for the first time all year I started to believe Eric when he said that God loved each of us. So now that I’d accepted God loved me I started to wonder, when the hell was this whole healing thing every one was always going on about going to happen? Well flash forward to January and my confirmation retreat and God’s plan was set in motion. At your retreat you will get a chance to go to confession, I highly encourage you to take this confession seriously, as before this point I had taken each of my confessions as a chance to see what kind of a reaction I could get out of the priest, once confessing that I saw dead people (wasn’t nearly as funny as I thought it would be.) So at this confession as a newly restored woman of faith I actually told the priest about everything that had happened to me, and what was actually weighing on my heart. He helped me to forgive those who’d had a hand in my heartache and then for my penance he told me to stand by the lake in the morning when no one was around and let God’s waves of healing wash over me. There was that word, healing, and I thought yeah right but nonetheless I agreed to give it a try. So morning came and I dragged my frozen butt to the waters edge. I said what I had to say to God and then I waited for those ‘waves of healing’ to wash over me until, very anticlimactically, a single bird scared the crap out of me and flew out of the reeds. Now I was pissed. I had done my part; I had opened up my heart and poured it out and all I got was one stupid bird??? “I WANT WAVES OF BIRDS!!!!” I screamed to God. Well God has a twisted sense of humor people, because at that moment thousands of birds took off out of the reeds in, you guessed it, waves. So I stood there, dumbfounded, and for the first time in my life I actually believed every word I had ever been told about how deeply loved I was and that everything would be okay. So I’d like to say this to all of you, I know most of you have been going to some form of Sunday night classes since your first communion and its probably never been your favorite part of your week, well make it your favorite part. When I think back to high school now, this class means the world to me and I would give anything to have those first few months of skepticism back and trade it for really opening my heart to being confirmed in God’s love. Let the people around you here be your family when you need some extra love, let them be your friends when you need a little extra help, and show them the parts of your heart you keep guarded for fear that people wont accept you. The more you put into this class the more you get out and believe me you can get so much out of it. Being young is hard and life can kick you in the teeth so why not open up to having a safe haven that’s ready to welcome you with open arms. Back about 2 years ago, I had an awesome counselor who read an excerpt out of amazing book, Captivating. It's mostly about the unveiling of a woman's soul and all that it entails. However, the paragraph that she read us was about nature and its true relationship to functionality.
"Nature is not primarily functional. It is primarily beautiful. Stop for a moment and let that sink in. We're so used to evaluating everything (and everyone) by their usefulness that this thought will take a minute or two to begin to dawn on us. Nature is not primarily functional. It is primarily beautiful. Which is to say, beauty is in and of itself a great and glorious good, something we need in large and daily doses (for our God has seen fit to arrange this)." At first, I thought that it was just another intellectual way of looking at the world. But after our last Club at camp, Claire and I wanted to soak up every last ounce of the energy from the 2 hour long worship session; therefore, we decided to turn the street into our very own star gazing bed. Laying there in a place that acted as a spiritual safe haven for so many years, next to this girl who was in so many of my fond, spiritual, and embarrassing memories made my nostalgia swell. I felt the openness of the street and the breeze across the tip of my nose and finger tips, the soft distant chatter, and the magnitude of the rest of the expanding universe. And I began to think. How could God make nature with the primary goal of beauty? How could the source of life not categorized under functionality - but rather under enchainment? It almost seemed careless to disregard the vital uses that the natural world has to offer. There was food, water, and shelter that life so deeply depended on, to only name a few. However, while there are specific functions behind it all, I realized the way things are does not mean they are how they have to be. Think about it. A world where forests and beaches are unimaginable, and nutrients oozes out of the ground sporadically upon "feeding times." That is what needs to be done in order for us to live. No variations of colors or textures because nothing says that sweet fruits must be rich in aroma and color. There are no laws that say that rain must collect in beads on a delicate flower petal. These things that appear as necessities and as absolutes, actually, have no foundation to be thought in such manner. So if that is so, then why did God spend 6 days creating it in unique and wonderful ways? Well, the easy, one word answer is the same reason He sent his son - love. He created the ultimate piece of living art that grows and dies and adapts at so many levels as the greatest love letter to an indifferent race. From the billowiness of a cloud to the texture of sand between bare toes, it is all an unnoticed gift of love. There is no alternative motive, just to continually bewitch, body and soul, humanity over thousands of years. As I peaked at the stars between finger-like branches of the swaying trees, I thought about the purpose of the distant stars. They are so distant that it is possible their existence is no longer at that very moment in time but because the way light travels, I can see them for an instant. Each star glowing by itself but together the billions of stars harmonize in God's nocturnal symphony that is played nightly for our eyes to gaze upon and for our souls to be engulfed in. A collection of burning gas millions of light years away just to see it. Just to feel it. It is such a strange way to think, that every sunset and leaf and water droplet is both with and without function. Let me clarify this real quick, just because something is primarily functional does not mean it cannot be beautiful; I am more pointing out the fact that it is important to understand whether something is rooted as an essence of efficient life, or rather, of raw allure. To know of God's blessings and to recognize God's blessings are two separate matters: one of the head and one of the heart. And furthermore, to look at love only with your head presents discrepancies because how could logistics explain joyous, rapturing emotion. Love is a verb, and God's love is meant to be felt - not analyzed. So therefore, I ask, when is the last time you felt the endearing ensemble that is the universe? Here’s the thing; exactly 4 years ago, I was sitting in your shoes. I was going through confirmation class every Sunday, in room 410. I promise you that when I say I can relate to you, I really mean it. I’ve been there. I know what it’s like to doubt the whole “God story.” I know what it’s like to lose someone who’s really close to you. I know what it’s like to feel completely alone, what it’s like to feel inadequate. I know what it’s like to think that you’re too deep into sin that you can’t come up. I know what it’s like to be scared, terrified even, of the future. I know what it’s like to feel like the world is caving down on you. I promise you that I have been there. Maybe not in the same ways that you have, but I’ve been there, and chances are, many of your classmates have too. If I could go back and tell myself one thing when I was in your shoes it would be this: you are a beloved child of God. Maybe you’ve heard this before and you believe it. Or, maybe you’ve never been told this.
Like many of you, I’m a cradle catholic. My brother and I have been raised catholic our whole lives, but just because we were raised with these ideals doesn’t necessarily mean that we fully believed them. I thought I did; I thought I was on fire for Christ. However, when I came to college, I realized that I was so wrong. Yes, I believed with my mind, with my brain, that I was a beloved child of God, but my heart believed a different message. Because of this, I quickly gave into temptation. I gave into the partying, the drinking, the “typical” college life. I began to adapt other identities and let everything but the truth define who I was. The organizations I joined, the leadership positions I held, my major, my GPA, and even the amount of followers and friends that I had on social media, these things were who I was. I established this new, comfortable lifestyle for myself and I let it continue for a little over a year. I had absolutely no desire to change. Now, don’t get me wrong, I still went to mass, I studied tons, got good grades, but I didn’t know true joy. About a year ago, I made a friend who showed me what it’s like to live a life with Christ, to live a life full of real, authentic joy. This friend challenged me in my faith in ways that no one has ever done, and I want to challenge y’all in the same way. I want to lovingly encourage you to make prayer a priority in your life. Catholicism, confirmation, is more than just a long mass; you’re making a commitment to not only God and the people around you, but to yourself. You’re committing to living your life as a true disciple of Christ. In making prayer a priority, you’ll begin to encounter Him in so many different ways. Just like I have been tempted, Jesus was also tempted in the desert, and you will be too. You’ll be tempted to make things like your GPA, your extracurriculars, the colleges you apply to, the scholarships you receive, and even your friend group your identities, but in reality, none of these things define you. Of course you should study hard, in fact, I really encourage you to aim for that 4.0. Join organizations, take pride in your extracurriculars, but keep in mind that you CAN live out your identity of being a beloved child of God while striving for these things. These things should be tools that you use to live out your identity in Christ. In order to do this, you have to let Him actually reveal to you the truth of who you are: His Beloved. When I began to pray daily (and I don’t just mean like my night time daily prayers, I’m talking about like sitting in silence and resting in Christ’s presence, attending mass and not just going through the motions, reading a devotional, and even learning how to pray the rosary), I slowly began to understand with my heart what this identity in Christ really means. It means that not only am I called to follow Christ as His disciple and spread the gospel, but even more, it means that regardless of how much I mess up, my Father will always welcome me with open arms. Guys, please take my word for it now, and know that you cannot put your identity in worldly things. I’ve tried it. It doesn’t work. Pope Benedict XVI tells us that this world offers us lots of comfort, but the reality is that we “are not made for comfort, we’re made for greatness.” Get uncomfortable, pray daily, strive for sainthood, and more importantly, help the people around you get to Heaven too. I promise you won’t regret it. |
AuthorYour confirmation teachers - Kathleen, Eric, Sophia, and Valerie, and with contributions from 410 alumni Archives
September 2021
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