Joseph
On Holy Thursday, we designated
a back corner of the church for Adoration. The mass ended with the holy Eucharist being placed
inside the tabernacle there, and there was some shuffling around while most
people exited and the remainder re-positioned themselves. At this point, a 6 year old named Joseph wanted
me to play with him. I told him it was
still prayer time, and when he looked confused, I pointed at the
tabernacle. “Jesus is in there,” I told
him. His face shifted, he gasped in a
short breath of air, and his eyes darted back and forth between the tabernacle
and me. “Jesus is there?!?” he exclaimed, pointing. When I nodded, he beamed ear-to-ear. For a moment, his eyes shined with all the
wonder, amazement, excitement, and Joy that little boys can pack into a single
glance. He didn’t question it; he just embraced
the beauty and greatness of what was just explained to him. He paused and, in his own way, paid reverence to Christ's presence. Then, after taking in just how cool it all
really is, he ran off, presumably to find a replacement playmate. His reaction has stuck with me. I should be as enthusiastic about the Lord each and every time I encounter Him in the act of Adoration.
7 Disciples
Adoration that night went
from about 9:30 until midnight. For the
first hour, some of the more faithful parishioners stayed to pray, and then we
were left with just our Salesian community… and 7 school boys. 7 stoic, faithful rock stars. The boys, ages 12 to 16, sat up half the
night to pray with us and then slept here at the mission in order to be ready
for mass on time the following morning.
I asked one why, and he said simply, “If Jesus is here, I am here also.” What a perfect statement to make and attitude to have.
Anthony
One day, I was playing music
for some of the boys as we waited for rain to subside. Anthony (15 years old) asked me to play a
slow song, and I put on a melodic version of the Divine Mercy Chaplet being sung over and over (for the story behind the prayer, click here). After swiftly and sharply squashing the cries
of protests from the others who wanted Michael Jackson, he swayed gently along, lost in a
half-trance. Days later, I caught up
with him after school to tell him I would pray the DMC with him or lend him the song whenever he wanted. “Right now?” he
asked. Of course not, I told him, because
I’m sure he wanted to go play ball with his friends. He glanced towards the football field, then
back at me and said, “We can go now.” I
was worried he was regretting his decision when I let the song play for its entirety
of over 18 min, that he felt somehow compelled by me to be doing this, but when I got up quietly and left, he stayed to continue
praying. We’ve repeated this a few times
since. He was able to focus on God so much more than I was, and seems to have mastered what I struggle with daily: the command to "be still and know that I am God." (Psalm 46)
Michael
One night, only a few boys
stayed after oratory to pray the rosary.
This never happens where there are so few, so at the end when it was my turn to deliver a short
talk, I instead sat with them and asked them questions. I asked why they stayed. 10 year old Michael answered me, “because of
Jesus.” What about Jesus? “I love Jesus.” Why do you love Jesus? He just stared blankly at me, not
understanding what I’m sure he thought was a ridiculous question. I asked what the difference was between those
few children and the ones who didn’t come to pray. He said sadly, “Jesus is not important to
them. I don’t know why.” I asked more questions, more specific
questions, trying to draw out of the kids more complicated reasons for or
explanations of their faith, but the reality is that they don’t have
complicated faiths. Everything about
life here is extremely simple, and the pure beauty of that never fails to
strike me. I had a profound realization that evening: that the best answer as to why I do anything, that the litmus test for my life, should be "because I love Jesus," simple as that.
Saba
After 7 hours of
being bedridden from being sick one day, I emerged briefly to try to soak up
the last of the fading light and the energy of the kids playing at oratory. As the field came into view, I heard my name
being called by a full symphony of voices.
Instantly my heart swelled up, overcome by the outpouring of love that I
receive here. Then, as I was walking
across the field, I turned to see Saba (Sa-BAH) sprinting towards me like he was on
fire. He slammed into me with the
force of a tidal wave and squeezed me as tight as he could with his tiny
arms. His eyes were the widest and
brightest I’ve ever seen on him. I was
not expecting this from Saba. He is normally oddly calm for a 6 year old, moves slowly, and carries a muted
expression on his face. From where did
he get this sudden burst of energy, and why was he spending it on me?
Staring into his
beaming face, time stopped for a moment.
Normally, the kids come and greet me then quickly return to their games,
but Saba just stood there grinning at me in silence for well over a minute. I felt like God was sending me an angel to
whisper in my ear that I am loved more than I will ever be able to understand,
both by these children in South Sudan and by His Son. It was a reminder not to become
discouraged. Sometimes I get sick, or I
fail as a teacher, or I miss my family, or I don’t love how I should, but no
matter how depleted I feel, God will send a shock to recharge my battery in the
most unexpected of ways. He did say anything,
but I felt Saba’s faith through his tiny pounding heart, because he allowed
himself to be used as an instrument of God, even if he didn’t know it. He was chosen to be there for me because his
spirit was open to Love, and I needed it so much.
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| Saba |
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| Joseph |
