Among my parish administrative responsibilities is coordinating Confirmation for our eighth grade parishioners.1 In the materials I distribute prior to the sacrament, I obliquely discourage the Confirmandi from choosing teen siblings as sponsors. This is not because I believe the teens to be inferior sponsors to many parish adults available -- some of our high school teens have a luminous faith life. Rather, it is because I want these younger siblings to make a courageous choice: to step outside their comfort zone, identify an adult whose mature faith they really admire, and take full advantage of the opportunity that the conversation-starters of the Confirmation program provide. I state to the parents that the Confirmandi can talk to their siblings anytime, and that they should encourage their child to use this opportunity to create a dialogue with someone they might not otherwise have as mentor and friend in faith.
The parent meeting runs simultaneously with the first half hour or so of our parish faith formation classes for K-8, and so our catechists tend to introduce the Confirmation process to the students at the same time as I discuss it with their parents. The adults nodded their heads in understanding, and no issues were raised, although perhaps a full half may never bring up my challenge to a child who proposes their teen sibling as a sponsor. However, after the concurrent class ended, one of our catechists approached me and asked about a student who had expressed a reluctance to follow the proposed avoidance of older siblings as sponsor choices. She wanted to choose her brother, a high school junior, because in her words: “This will force him to talk to me!”
At that moment, my eyes were opened, and I recognized the pure foolishness of my assumption that these students can talk to their siblings “anytime,” and that they must choose them as sponsors because they already have a close relationship. I know better -- or should have.There are two distinct memories I have involving the brother who is less than two years my junior. The first involved piling onto a coach bus with our dad and about 30 senior parishioners at the ripe ages of eleven and nine to go on a parish pilgrimage to St. Meinrad Archabbey in southern Indiana (pictured here).2 Rising early in the morning on one of the days on those Benedictines’ grounds, my brother and I decided to go for a walk. I don’t think we talked deeply about our lives and our faith; I’m not sure we talked much at all. We just walked out together and took in the beauty of the fog-covered hills and lake in the early morning, seeing the beauty of God in creation. The closeness didn’t need to be spoken.
The second memory: we had both returned to lead the same senior retreat at our former high school over a common break in our university calendars. He gave a witness talk. On the way home, we argued, largely talking past one another. Finally, I pulled over the car to ask, "Why did I not know any of the things you described in your retreat talk?" He replied, "Because you are not the person I want to tell these things to. I don't trust you not to judge me."
That statement certainly signaled a conviction. What had I done to make him think I would judge him for his faith experience? But I believed there was also a misunderstanding. I certainly didn’t want to know about his life just so I could judge the “worthiness” of my brother. Both this eighth grade parishioner and I were just sisters wanting to love and be loved better, to know the details of our siblings’ lives for their own sake.
We give these same eighth graders the opportunity for rudimentary liturgy planning of the school year’s opening Mass. I provide three to four options per reading, and inevitably, they settle on the same three readings each time… and there is a distinct theme to them. They elect classic passages about the love of God.
Always selected from the Old Testament: Because you are precious in my eyes and honored, and I love you, I give people in return for you and nations in exchange for your life. (Isaiah 43:4)
Unfailingly chosen for the second reading: Love is patient, love is kind… that passage which people have begun to associate with weddings. (1 Corinthians 13)
Perpetually appointed as our Gospel: This is my commandment: love one another as I love you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. (John 15:12)
They may pick passages which to me seem almost overworn, but the students see with fresher eyes for Scripture. They perceive why these passages are well-used, recognizing the profundity we may be tempted to gloss after repeated hearing. We don't always need to be hipster and go straight to the deep cuts of the Bible. These youths -- hormonal just-teens hovering between childhood and autonomy -- simply crave love. Really, of whom is that not true?
Even now, my other brother is famous for answers which contain as little information as possible, and volunteers almost no information about his life. It has been said that “He could lead a super interesting life, and no one would ever know.” However, he knows how to offer love. A few years ago, I came up with a theory about his behavior, and this past October, I brought it up to him. He essentially laughed to confirm it. Every year on my birthday, he calls me and is an unprompted fount of information about his life… because he knows that is what I will enjoy.
I like to think that I have become less insecure about my relationships as I grow, but he who has never over-thought an interaction with someone for whom he cares deeply, let him cast the first stone. My students are in most ways still children who need explicit expressions of the love of God, both directly from God himself, and from the ones who are supposed to love them most. I hope as we mature in faith, we may learn to recognize the love when less plainly expressed, but we will never cease to desire it in increasing measure. As St. Augustine unequivocally states in his Confessions (and referenced by a familiar blog title), our hearts will be restless until they rest in God.
1 I want to delve into the downfalls of having to “administrate” sacraments, but that’s a discussion best saved for its own post.↩
2 If you are a fan of contemplation or at least the opportunity for it, you should definitely go to St. Meinrad.↩
I enjoyed your post, Laura. Awesome insights into the nature of adolescent faith and relationships.
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