What to Do When You Feel Like the Worst Youth Minister Ever.

These middle schoolers are going to be the death of me. But, that's actually a really good thing. 

Without fail, the kids at middle school youth group are almost always bad difficult. Some are patient and prayerful, while a select handful who can't keep their mouths shut seem hell-bent on ruining the night for everyone. Normally, I can deal with it. They're young. They have too much energy to contain. I'd rather they be too loud than too quiet. I have a bottle of wine waiting at home.

Today, however, was a different story. Today, I was already stressed out well before they arrived, which meant there was even less patience for them to test. The whole hour-and-a-half-long meeting felt more like six, and was loud, frustrating, and miserable for pretty much the whole time. At least for me. 

The night was themed on the qualities that make a person inspirational, and began with the kids dividing into small groups and drawing their own heroes on posters. One group drew Spanish Jesus (complete with a lawnmower. Yep. Wasn't too pleased with that one). Another drew the Pope (but decided he should have green teeth). Another group drew Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Slayer. And the fourth group drew me. When I saw this, I'd imagined that this would be the turning point of the night. My heart would melt, I'd suddenly remember how sweet and innocent the kids were, and the rest of the youth group meeting would be filled with the peace and joy of the Holy Spirit. 

Nope. Not at all. That gratitude lasted for a minute before it was back to kids talking out of turn, throwing food, and leaving trash everywhere. Actually, that would have been manageable. Instead, they also compared the Pope's vestments to a KKK robe and whispered mischievous jokes when they thought I wasn't looking. By the end of the night, there'd been far too many "I'll wait until everyone's quiets," staring kids down (who am I kidding? They aren't the least bit scared of me), and sending the least-behaved one out into the hall.

The worst part, though, wasn't how the kids acted. They're middle schoolers. They're supposed to be hyper and immature. That's practically a sign of healthy, normal development. The worst part was how bad I was at hiding my impatience. The "nicer" kids actually started to feel sorry for me as they begged their peers to be quiet, and our closing prayer was rushed and dry. I left feeling like the worst youth minister ever. 

Thankfully, there's grace.

While the kids were working on their "Heroes Posters" earlier in the night, I opened my Bible in the hope of finding some source of ministerial inspiration. I actually didn't believe I'd find anything helpful. It just seemed like… I don't know… Whatever... Something to do. Without paying much attention, I "accidentally" flipped right to 2 Corinthians 4: "Integrity in Ministry." Huh. What was it that St. John Paul II said? "There are no coincidences"? Without much thought, I began to read:

"Therefore since we have this ministry through the mercy shown us, we are not discouraged. Rather, we have renounced shameful, hidden things; not acting deceitfully or falsifying the word of God, but by the open declaration of the truth we commend ourselves to everyone's conscience in the sight of God….For we do not preach ourselves but Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your slaves for the sake of Jesus. For God who said, 'Let light shine out of darkness,' has shone in our hearts to bring to light the knowledge of the glory of God on the face of [Jesus] Christ. But we hold this treasure in earthen vessels, that the surpassing power may be of God and not from us. We are afflicted in every way, but not constrained; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying about in the body of the dying Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our body. For we who live are being constantly given up to death for the sake of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may be manifested in our mortal flesh… Therefore, we are not discouraged; rather, although our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this momentary light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to what is seen but to what is unseen; for what is seen is transitory, but what is unseen is eternal"

 (2 Corinthians 4:1-18). 

Oh. So, ministry is supposed to feel like this. We're supposed to be "in the body of the dying Jesus," not the resurrected one. I'm supposed to want to pull my hair out on a pretty much daily basis. Christians are supposed to feel "constantly given up to death." After all, didn't Jesus tell us to take up our daily cross (Luke 9:23) for the sake of eternal life, and didn't He also promise to give us daily bread to sustain us on the way (Matthew 6:11)?

I always knew youth ministry wouldn't be easy. Well, I thought I knew that. As I was walking out to my car (okay, huffing), I realized that what I really thought was that the job would be hard… for a little while. I'd imagined that while the first year would be one up-hill road, the whole rest of the journey would be an easy ride off into the sunset. Because, I mean, that's how ministry worked out for Jesus, right?

I'd also always nodded along when people said that ministerial work was just planting seeds even without witnessing the bloom. Sure, that might be true… for some people. Of course, I'll get to see the blooms because I'm just that special, right? Who the heck doesn't want  to see their hard work pay off? Oh, wait… you mean these kids aren't here to satisfy my ego? Oops. 

The full realization of my complete denial and arrogance was all up in my face like a hyperactive twelve year-old, and I couldn't ignore it. 

So, it turns out I'm impatient and tend to think the normal ministry rules don't apply to me. Oops. This lesson learned could just be a major bummer: your dream job is going to be miserable and that's that. But as St. Paul says, "Although our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day." This job is not easy, nor is it always fun (then again, whose is?). For every kid who talks about how much they love Mary (music to my ears), another one complains about bad snacks. But, it's absolutely worth it. Without a doubt, I'd sign up for it all over again. The outer self might be wasting away under stress and difficult kids (hey, I'm no picnic for God, either!), but the inner self is being renewed daily through the silent, steady, forward-moving flow of the Holy Spirit. Somehow or other, the job gets (mostly) done while the ego is slowly purified and emotional highs are replaced with real joy.

So, what does it mean when you feel like your ministry is a completely and utterly shambled mess? 

It means keep going.

One, Holy, Smelly, and Apostolic Church

From April 24 – May 4, I joined a group of twelve young adults from the Archdiocese of Chicago on a pilgrimage to Rome for the canonizations of John Paul II and John XXIII. The experience was incredible and gave each of us memories that we will always cherish. Having personally seen Pope John Paul II in the Vatican Square back in the spring of 2004, the canonization was especially meaningful.

For over a year, I had been eagerly anticipating this trip. I couldn't wait to celebrate the life of one of my favorite saints (not to slight John XXIII!), and apparently, I wasn't the only one who felt this way. Over eight hundred thousand people gathered in St. Peter’s Square to witness this monumental event in Church history.

Eight hundred thousand.

That’s a lot of people… People who knock you over with their over-sized backpacks. People who tragically forget to put on deodorant. People who talk just a little (read: way) too loudly on their cellphones during the Mass. People who get so pushy that you think they're trying to cop a feel. This historical, holy, and sacramental moment would have been just perfect... if only it weren't for all the people. 

While standing among these crowds during the canonization Mass, it was a constant temptation to forget Jesus’ call to love one another (because of course, it's not like I was annoying anyone else, right?). But as frustrating as the person next to me might have been, one thought kept crossing my mind: all of these hundreds of thousands of people belong to the same Catholic Church. We might have been speaking different languages, but we all knew exactly when to join hands and pray the Lord’s Prayer. We all shook hands and exchanged the Sign of Peace with different words, but the same message. We all bowed in prayer during the Consecration. Every single person in that massive crowd was completely unique and entirely unrepeatable, but we all worshipped our one Lord in the same way.

Looking throughout the crowds, we saw people of every age and country. One banner displayed the Japanese flag with the words, “You are our Pope.” A little boy sat on his father’s shoulders and waved the Polish flag (by the way, don’t mess with little, old, Polish ladies. They mean business). Whole families gathered from every continent to celebrate the lives of two men who lived and died years ago. What other celebrity could draw crowds stretching for over half a mile? Who else could gather people from every corner of the globe?

Jesus told His disciples to “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, until the end of time” (Matthew 28:19-20). Despite all odds and persecutions, these twelve poor and uneducated men did it. Somehow, they got the message out so loudly and clearly that 2,000 years later, eight hundred thousand of the faithful would voluntarily stand in a miserable crowd to celebrate two of our eternally-living brothers. What other worldly empire has achieved such a feat?

So, why make such a big deal about our universal Church? Is this just a bragging right, or something more? Being part of a universal Church means many things. It reminds us that every human being on this earth (Catholic or non-) is a child of God, and therefore deserving of love, respect, and dignity. It reminds us that despite our many differences, we are all redeemed by the one cross of Christ, and nourished by His one Eucharistic body. It reminds us that we ourselves make up that one Body.

Until this pilgrimage, I had never really appreciated St. Paul’s words, “Come to him, a living stone, though rejected by mortals yet chosen and precious in God’s sight, and  like living stones, let yourselves be built into a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ” (1 Peter 2:4-5). We are all called to be living stones just like Jesus. You and I are the Church. What we say, do, give, and pray builds her up as a mighty fortress. Every single person in St. Peter’s Square on that day is a living stone building up Christ’s Church.

Are you being a “living stone”? Is your faith moving you to take action, to care for the poor and forgotten, to forgive the unforgiveable, and to choose Jesus instead of money and fame? Is Jesus’ light shining a little brighter because of you? Truly, each and every one of these stones is “precious in God’s sight." St. John Paul the Great once said that he didn't like the word 'crowd' because it was too anonymous. Instead, he preferred 'multitude.' Well, if you gather enough of these living stones, no matter how small, you'll get a multitude that is literally bursting through the Vatican Walls and making the whole world take notice.

Just 800,000 of our closest friends at St. Peter's Square for the Canonization Mass.