God is Not a Grinch

In my first post, I wrote about how the teens in my youth groups might have just as much (if not more) to teach me than I have for them. Sure, I wrote about it…. and then totally forgot about it. Oops. Whether I was ready for it or not, the kids gave me a pretty clear reminder of just how much I have to learn during our last middle school youth group meeting.

Our lesson for the night was "Full, Active, Conscious," and focused on how well we do (or don't) participate in the Mass. I had planned the games, lessons, videos, discussion questions, and prayer. Everything was ready to go, and there was no reason not to expect an "easy" youth group meeting. The subject wasn't too juicy so as to stir up incessantly tangential questions, but the materials made it engaging enough to keep interest. This one was in the bag… or so I thought.

Too bad the kids weren't having any of it. Middle schoolers often have more energy than their awkward little bodies can contain, and they've been a little off-the-walls more than once before. But tonight's group was a brand new breed of caffeinated hamsters.

At first, the chaos was containable. Just a few side conversations and flinging popcorn. NBD. But, like the singing Whos down in Whoville, the noise grew. And grew. Every kid was speaking out of turn. I took away the snacks, I threatened to call parents, I made them wait in awkward silence until everyone had stopped speaking. Nope. Nada. Even the videos, which normally captivated their attention without fail, well, they failed. Whenever the internet connection broke and the screen froze, the kids would channel LMFAO and sing, "Every day I'm buffering!" and insanity would ensue (even during our closing prayer). Even moments where I thought I had their attention were broken by some kid calling out, "Oh, man! Who let it rip?!?"

Yep. That was my failed attempt to teach kids about participating in the Mass. Whether they intended to or not, however, these lovable but hyperactive kids taught me much more than I could have taught them. As I stood before the group feeling confused and frustrated, I couldn't help wondering if perhaps this is how God feels when we fail to pay attention to Him.

How many times have I gotten completely and utterly distracted during the Mass? Um, more than I'd ever want anyone to count. Instead of listening to the Word of God, I think about lunch. Or that cute pair of shoes across the aisle. Instead of "being still" (Psalm 46:10) during the Liturgy of the Eucharist, I dwell on my own fears and anxieties, ignoring the outpouring of divine love right before my eyes. I'm that middle schooler who absolutely cannot (or will not) sit still and listen with a silent heart. Thankfully, God is infinitely more patient than I am.

I highly doubt these kids intended to teach me about God's love through their face-palmingly bad behavior. They're smart, but I seriously hope they aren't that clever. More importantly, it isn't just in their human failings that they've led me to Christ, but also through their sincerity of heart.

Completely spent of all sanity and patience, I made the three worst-behaved boys stay late so I could reprimand their behavior. Gently but firmly, I made it clear that their distractions weren't fair to the group. One kid refused to look in my eyes and kept his hands buried in his pockets with a defiant stance. Another kept his eyes locked in mine, clearly trying to show responsibility for his actions. The third looked like he could have cried (Oops… didn't realize I could be that scary!). With that, my heart melted. Seriously, I felt like the old cartoon Grinch, whose heart is stretched to break the scale.

No matter how frustrated I'd been, I just couldn't stay mad at this freckle-faced 7th grade boy, or the other two. He offered no more than a simple and quiet, but sincere apology… and all was completely forgiven and forgotten.

"Draw near to God and He will draw near to you… 

Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and He will lift you up" 
(James 4:8, 10).

In that one moment, this young man taught me the beauty of God's love. We can't earn His forgiveness; all God wants of us is to simply and sincerely ask for it, just as this mature, young man had ("Rend your hearts and not your garments" Joel 2:13), and He will lift us up.

No matter our sins or distractions, whether they're stinking up the youth room or worse, God stands ready and willing to forgive us completely. Except, unlike me, He doesn't get all angry and Grinch-like in the meantime :-)