Encourage the Storm 2.0

I last wrote about a parable and its bearing on the end of another year in ministry, and now I'm back to continue unpacking this next bit of the adventure.

Before I get to in depth into figuring out where this first full year of campus ministry has left me, God walked me down a different road. My faith formation director at graduate school suggested that I needed some personal renewal beyond the busy parameters of daily life in work, school, and social stuff. Though I told her I wasn't sure about the spiritual intensity of it, I was headed to Notre Dame Vision for Campus and Youth Ministers, in parallel with the 10 students I was bringing along to the high school conference.

The week was a solid combination of outstanding presenters, capable facilitators, and communal interactions. However, it was definitely not a retreat. People came and went as they pleased, many having been through the conference several times before. And the openness of the schedule left much to each participant's imagination.

I took a bunch of notes, gleaning wisdom from our speakers and discussions. I mixed and matched a bit at different tables during our sessions and meals, chatting with new friends and old. I went for a few morning runs. I even got surprised with an invite down to the stage to show an auditorium-full of teens and college students some old dance moves (bet my students did not see that coming).

One of the bonuses of heading the conference this particular summer is that a former student of mine, now a freshman at St. Mary's College, was serving as a mentor to the high school students. And she was giving her witness talk as part of one of the sessions. To get to see her in action, organizing games on the quad, shepherding her small group, and finally telling her story was pretty sweet. I shared with her how proud I was of her and kept some tabs on her while staying way out of her way. Oh and PS - she got in as a transfer to Notre Dame for next year! :)

What I didn't expect, beyond that, was seeing two of my former mentees from when I was a Vision mentor in 2010 and 2011, now serving as mentors themselves! I knew they were amazing people, and I was super excited and impressed when they got into Notre Dame. Now they were before me with name tags and polos, doing the job - the ministry - I had once gotten to do for them. As much as I loved and admired these kiddos already, it was pretty wild and beautiful to see them now in my shoes.

As I left campus, I left them my phone number to stay in touch. As I conquered the last few miles of my drive back into the city, one of them called with some fun news - the two of them would be partners in leading a small-group for the next week of Vision. Craycray awesome.

Even though the week didn't pack the punch of a silent retreat in a wilderness monastery, the alchemy of presentations (Mike Patin told us we need to make space for encounters with those we minister to), socializing (only with ministers would I end up at a bar 4 nights in a row!), and these surprises left me in a contented place.

I saw ten of my students from my school where campus ministry is but a budding niche take campus by storm and realize a fuller sense of what's possible in spiritual life. I saw a former student realize more of her amazing potential in leadership. I saw two of my former small-group members doing the same. And all the while thinking that some seeds fall on rocky soil and get scorched or eaten while others take root and grow.

In ministry, we have to find peace with doing the best we can to bring people to awareness of God's presence during the times we have with them. Then we have to trust the encounters to God and His other servants, spread all across parishes, schools, and communities throughout our Church. As a Vision mentor, I remember insisting to my often arrogant and always-having-high-expectations self to settle myself into a solid whole and let the members of my groups call out of me what they're needing. I had to convince myself to do my best for the five days God gave me with my kids and entrust the rest to the people who would come after me.

Now, as God is sometimes wont to do, He gave me a small moment of gratification with so many layers wrapped up together. Vision encourages participants to "encourage the storm," to bring all parts of their lives into the experience through activities, reflections, and discussions. My week at Vision happened in just that way. Those I've ministered to in my short time as a full-time minister came together in a beautiful gathering of Church, all to realize different things for themselves and to teach me different things:

• My student from last year showed me the amazing ways God's working through her gifts after my colleagues and I invested so much in forming her, and her forming us, at that high school.
• My mentees from when I mentored Vision showed me that the seeds I sowed in the more distant past were growing all along as others tilled the soil and harvested the emerging fruit.
• My current students stepped up to an opportunity that capped a first year of my effort's to put more invitations to bigger and better things in front of their spiritual noses. 

All the while, God kept His hands hard at work, not washing up and throwing a towel over His shoulder, but continuing to dwell among us to facilitate the ongoing encounters that keep building His Kingdom more and more. Surely, more grace in relationship is just around the corner, for grace never leaves us where she finds us. What a joy!

The Sower, The Seed, and a Garden

My first year as a full-time Campus Minister is over, and now I'm spending the mornings of my first week of summer by going to class for my part-time Masters in Theology. My class is on parables, and during our 5 days of in-person class, we are discussing and exegizing those stories of Jesus from the Gospels.

Sitting in class on the first morning, we dove straight into the Parable of the Sower. Our professor, a delightfully insightful Dominican sister, invited us to consider what we heard new. She wishes we could hear the parables for the first time and set aside the preconceptions we have since these parables are less than new to most of us, and she invites us to share our thoughts before simply feeding us her thoughts. Re-reading this parable, I gravitated to the seed that didn't take:

Other seed fell on rocky ground where it had little soil. It sprang up at once because the soil was not deep. And when the sun rose, it was scorched and it withered for lack of roots.

Given that my program is a Masters in Biblical Ministry, I read the Bible and undertake this coursework looking for the real-life applications and connections to life, especially ministry. That line jumped out to me because it seemed to capture a lot about the situation I came into this year.

During college, when people would ask me about what I wanted to do and where I wanted to work, I would answer that I didn't think it was really for me to decide. Heading into a career of campus ministry, I felt like I had to go where there was a need for someone like me. In my first few years, I have been called to Ireland as a volunteer, to California for my first job as a teacher, coach, and minister, and now to Northwest Indiana as a full-time Campus Minister. After talking the talk, now I had to walk the walk of trying to minister when things were a bit tougher.

I came into a school with a new principal, new dean, and a new part-time chaplain (whereas they had barely had one before). I discovered a Region where budding, up-and-coming towns butt up against down-on-their-luck cities trying to sustain themselves, and the "east side" of Chicago that I didn't know existed. I came to a school where 1 in 5 students pay tuition with a government voucher. And I came to a school that didn't previously have a full-time Campus Minister, where teachers tended to campus ministries in spare time and students had never gone on overnight retreats.

With the help of a wonderfully capable chaplain and the support of an administration interested in developing a sturdy Catholic identity, Campus Ministry grew a lot in my first year at the school: the inauguration of Kairos, a new overnight Senior Retreat, a Student Ministry Team, pervasive student leadership opportunities, a new Chicago service-learning immersion, and lots of plans for Year Two.

It was largely about creating new opportunities, getting them rolling, and feeling out the student response in order to keep improving things. Along that road there were lots of realizations and obstacles.

Having never been on an overnight retreat, the seniors struggled mightily with attention span and vulnerability. Having never been asked to chaperone more than a day's field trip, teachers rarely volunteered to come on overnight retreats. Having not had a Student Ministry Team before, students weren't quite sure what to do. The atmosphere at our Masses was pretty strong, but the religious and spiritual literacy of the community was minimal.

My temptation sometimes was to be frustrated and disillusioned with the shallowness of response, in quantity or quality, to the things I tried. But repetition on retreat breeds comfort; personal invitations yield acceptances; and meeting after meeting developed a team with family camaraderie and real direction. And though I still don't get everything about the place, my patience and effort were helping me understand how to serve this community.

These are some of the things that led me to think of that soil in the parable. Soil isn't blamed for its character. Good soil becomes fertile because of its surroundings and the care given to it. Rocky soil results from a poor climate or neglect. If the soil has been rocky in my ministry here so far, it's not the fault of the people there. Teachers were stretched too thin to do full-scale campus ministries, and the students can't be expected to create it for themselves.

When I took World Christianity class as an undergrad, we studied Steve Bevan's models of contextual theology. I recalled these because Bevans used garden and gardener metaphors to explain them. I gravitated most to the "transcendental" model personally. In this model, one shares their faith by keeping their "garden" neat, tidy, and green; then when others see it, they'll want to emulate that and maybe even talk with the gardener about how to do it.

This is how I approach my personal faith, and it certainly bleeds into my ministry. I don't necessarily try to preach, convert, or persuade; I just go to Mass, maintain positive relationships, and try to be reflective and prayerful every day. In ministry, I try to do my best with what I can control; I try to plan and coordinate great retreats, recruit and train student leaders, write great prayers to share at gatherings and over the PA, etc.

Though I struggle with the overall impact that I may be having in students' spiritual lives, in the school on the whole, I feel that if I'm constantly trying to plant new seeds, care for the ones that are growing, and harvest the ones that have blossomed, then people will see and want to be involved.

I can't reach into the spirits of my students and community members to make the change I hope they'll realize. However, I can try to cultivate a lush, green garden in my corner of the community and have a blast doing it. Hopefully, I'm loving and serving well enough that people are attracted to the garden and want to help plant seeds, water flowers, and harvest fruit as well build the Kingdom!

In the coming weeks, I'm going to try to reflect further on some of the things that are popping up as I move from retrospect on Year One and into vision and ambitions for more Kingdom in Year Two... stay tuned!