DYC 2019: Make a RUCKUS!
"Take risks, even if it means making mistakes. Don't go through life anaesthetized or approach the world like tourists. Make a ruckus! With the same love that Christ pours out on us, we can love him in turn and share his love with others in the hope that they too will take their place in the community of friendship he established."
Pope Francis, Christus Vivit
This past weekend, we hosted our annual Diocesan Youth Convention, and using the theme, Make a Ruckus, we urged teens to take risks for the sake of their faith, even if it meant making mistakes, losing friends, or being unpopular. Our keynote speaker, Oscar Rivera, fleshed out the theme by sharing stories about how he caused a ruckus in his youth by fighting to get out of a challenging childhood and earning a college degree.
Photo by Sarah Moore
When we began planning this convention, I, too, focused on the words "Make a Ruckus," but while I was actually in that gym with dozens of teenagers, my heart was moved to focus on a different part of Christus Vivit.
Don't go through life anaesthetized
Of course we think of anaesthesia as that stuff doctors or surgeons give to us to numb us so we can avoid pain. But I recently heard something about the etymology of the word "anaesthesia." It has the same root words of aesthetics, so anaesthesia is actually a numbness to beauty.
In my many years of youth ministry, I have seen and learned so much. I've seen the good, the bad, and the ugly, and lately it seems like there's been a whole lot of ugly. For every person who joins the Church, 6 are leaving. Youth, even if they are still attending Mass, are claiming to lose faith in God at the age of 13. Rates of depression are going up. In a world of excess kids still feel empty and lonely. When I sense the broken hearts of the young people I work with, it can be so hard to be hopeful. And yet, God is so good.
Photo by Sarah Moore
He never forgets us, and He never ceases showering blessings upon us, and so many times, those beautiful blessings are unseen and therefore unacknowledged. But that doesn't mean they aren't there. In the middle of the pain, suffering, and struggles, it's so much easier to just turn off all of our feelings. But when we do that, we also become numb to the beauty - anaesthetized.
The beauty that I saw this weekend came in small waves:
Sometimes in the form of a group of girls who got along beautifully even though they barely knew each other last week.
It was in the form of a girl laughing at herself because she didn't realize how spicy the tacos we were having for dinner were going to be.
I saw the beauty of rookie chaperones and youth leaders who weren't afraid to send kids to bed as soon as the clock struck midnight.
It even came in the form of a teen excitedly singing at the top of her lungs even though she had no clue why her mom would send her on a retreat with a bunch of Jesus freaks.
It was a group of teens bonding over ice cream, popcorn, and a late night movie.
Most importantly, it came in the quiet whispers from God who says, "Even in the darkest moments, I will never leave you."
The world shoves a lot of reasons to be hopeless into our faces, but as Christians, we believe that while the cross is temporary, the love of Christ is eternal. Wandering through this world with long faces is no way to live. If we embrace the cross, we must also see that we embrace the beauty that accompanies it.
So I challenge you to take this risk: Open your eyes, and in a world full of suffering, see the beauty surrounding you.