In the past, I have given a few of the different adult talks that happen at various points of the retreat. When it came to the prayer services, they were usually simple reflections, or when they were more complex, they were led by a great priest with whom I worked. For this current retreat, I decided to step up as the prayer service presider, and so I utilized the beautiful structure that my priest-friend created for evening prayer rituals and adapted them slightly for my current school's Kairos retreat.
One of the wonderfully effective ministries of this great priest-friend is his ability to diligently, deliberately, and elaborately develop homilies to break open the Scripture from the service and tie in that day of Kairos with the Gospel truths with the experiences of the students with everything else! I knew it would be daunting to become the presider in my friend's old shoes, so I took to emulating some of his conventions while knowing that my execution of them had to be different and truly my own.
I decided to keep his lean, incisive homiletic notes on the passage itself, which he had passed on to me, and then to frame them between a hook kind of story and another story of more personal witness. I wanted to open each reflection with something attention-grabbing that I could then connect into the theme of the night, and then use these homiletic notes as a bridge to personal witness that would hammer home that theme.
As we prepared for this retreat, all sorts of curveballs hit us relating to the shape of our student leadership team, the availability of the adults who we wanted to include, and the various challenge of getting students over their fears and anxieties of a four-day retreat (no cell phones? I don't get to pick my roommate? do I HAVE to go?). As we navigated these rough seas, I found myself continually delaying my plans to sit down and formulate my evening prayer reflections.
As the retreat drew nearer, I was nervous that I'd end up using mediocre ideas and delivering ineffective reflections. Things started to settle in for my three evenings' worth of outlines, but I still had a hole where my personal witness was needed for the Day 2 Evening Prayer - during this service, students hear the story of the blind beggar Bartimaeus and then the leaders bless the retreatants with a laying on of hands.
Luckily, this is my favorite Gospel story, so once I put some focus on it, the ideas came quick. My wife, Katherine, and I used this passage at our wedding. At first, she was skeptical of the relevance of a beggar's blindness getting healed, but as we talked more about it, she agreed to choose it for our wedding Mass.
I love the way Bartimaeus is challenged by the disciples after Jesus asks them to bring Bartimaeus to him - they tell him, "Take courage. Get up. He is calling you."
I love the way Jesus asks him, point-blank, "What do you want me to do for you?"
And I love how Bartimaeus has a clear and ready answer, "Master, I want to see."
I think this is the clearest, most direct way Jesus speaks to us in the Gospel. In this case, we do not hear a parable or a sermon but a direct confrontation from Christ in His ministry. For our wedding, I thought it could be an inspiration to us as a married couple and eventual parents to always know what we need of Christ and for us to always be prepared to reach out to others.
Returning now to the reflection I prepared, I actually delivered it tonight, a few hours ago. After my hook and brief remarks on the passage itself, I talked about how marriage preparation gets overshadowed by wedding planning. I added that if I was going to fixate on wedding planning, the most important consideration of wedding planning to me was figuring out how to honor my mom that wasn't mopey but rather celebrated her in a way that I liked and knew she'd like.
I then told them that I learned of my mom's cancer diagnosis while I was directing a previous Kairos. I actually found out at the end of Day 2, at about the same point that we'd be as I gave this reflection as part of Evening Prayer on Day 2 of our retreat. I told them how if I couldn't be at home with my family that it was fitting to be on Kairos in the midst of such vulnerable, generous, emotional love. This fit so well, too, because my mom loved Kairos and made a point to write to my friends even when they went on the retreat.
Next, thinking of what I needed from God relating to my wedding, and thinking of this Gospel's place in that Sacramental celebration, I shared three beautiful ways in which I believed Christ provided for my need that day (certainly not ignoring the fact that I gained a beautiful wife!):
1. I told them how, at the point when my dad and I would have walked my mom down the aisle, that we would escort who I call her three "MVP's" - my great aunt Di and my mom's best friends, Lynn and Linda, the latter of whom is also my Godmother. So I enlisted my brothers to escort Di and Lynn, and tapped my dad be on Linda's other arm with me. When I kissed Aunt Linda and walked off to the side, that's when it hit me that mom wasn't there. But it's also when it hit me most that she was there.
2. The next great moment on the wedding day came when Christ showed us the love and communion that was growing in our new family. As our choir began singing The Lord's Prayer, the song that was a slam dunk to bring my mother to tears every time, my dad stepped out from his place at the end of the front row, walked across the aisle, and grabbed the hand of my father-in-law. That moment in which my dad bridged the gap between the groom's side and the bride's side was the manifestation of the union between our families. And it was a gesture my dad made as we prayed in the way that mom loved the most.
3. Finally, after months of coming up dry on a way to handle my mother-son dance, the Holy Spirit (for what else could it have been) moved me to my final decision. Getting my groomsmen in on the idea early but keeping it a surprise to everyone else, I declared a sons' choice dance. And when I say choice, I mean I got on the microphone and told all the men in the room that, if their mothers were here with them, that they needed to ask their moms for a dance. As I took my Aunt Linda, whose only son died in an accident about 10 years ago, out on the dance floor, I began to survey the floor and see enormous smiles on the faces of a whole bunch of beautiful mothers. I think I made my mom happy a lot in life, but I think that's the happiest I've ever made her since she went on to the next life.
All of these thoughts came together beautifully, and tonight, I delivered this reflection to our retreat full of juniors. I broke a little and teared up as I recollected these beautiful moments, and I smiled as I knew that mom, in her love of Kairos, was surely with us in the love we shared through prayer tonight.
Kairos is Greek for time, but not measurable clock or calendar time; Kairos is the word for "God's time," the timelessness of letting go and being present. The crazy thing that hit me once I was here at the retreat center for this Kairos is that today, now that this long Day 2 of Kairos has crossed midnight, is March 10. It was 3 years ago today that we all gathered around mom's bedside to keep watch as she moved on to her eternal rest. I'll never forget the lightness I felt in my shoulders as she went, but I do sometimes forget how much this day means to my family and those who love mom.
I can't help but feel God's blessing in finding these stories and the way they came together for my reflection to facilitate the important ministry of shepherding these young people. I didn't realize how clear mom's hand in it was until the timing of this retreat hit me. I'm sorry to not be able to hug my brothers or dad or wife or sister-in-law today, but I know that mom is looking out for me when I can see so clearly the way that Christ responded when I needed Him to do something for me.
I love my mom. And I know she is with me today and every day.
