Steubenville

We don't know. We can't know. Even though our innate curiosity impels us to want to know, we lack the capacity to really know.

But we get inklings. Hints. Foretastes. Previews. Samples of the sacred.

Our group of 15 youth and two adults from Sandpoint last weekend tried to put words to the experience of encountering the living God. We had witnessed a procession of Eucharistic Adoration with Fr. Mike Schmitz carrying the King of the Universe among 1200 teens. The lights were off; two spotlights followed the sparkling monstrance around the crowd. Ben Walther and the musicians prayed reflective music. Some wept. Some laughed. Others shouted. Or closed their eyes in newfound peace. Each unrepeatable soul was captivated. We tasted, if for a fleeting moment, Heaven.

But in reality, we didn't know. We couldn't know.

What happened in the Spokane Convention Center on Saturday night went beyond our limited capacity because God was truly present, present physically in the Eucharist, present spiritually in the people, present in each joyful tear, every uninhibited laugh, in hundreds of seeking young minds, among us, around us, pursuing us. And when we talk about the Lord's true presence, the power of healing love overwhelms and peace reigns. Not peace as the world gives, but peace as Jesus gives.

Even more amazing, the next morning we received that peace within our very bodies and selves in the holy sacrifice of the Mass. The most ordinary of elements -- bread and wine -- transformed into the sacred, the risen Lord. Angels acclaimed. Saints rejoiced. We extended our scarred hands. A tasteless wafer on our tongue. The simplest form of God humbled. The Body of Christ. Strength for the journey. Hope to sustain. The mystery of our faith.

A foretaste. A hint. But we didn't know what we received. Not fully. We couldn't know. Though it's rare to admit, we don't need to know, and we shouldn't know. To know the fullness of God is to erase the mystery, and without that, we have nowhere to go when it comes to love. Love means some element of the unknown to be explored and pondered.

God called us to enter the mystery at Steubenville Northwest this weekend. Though each teen had a varied experience and reaction, every person knew they had encountered something profound. How could we not be impacted? We saw a massive gathering of dancing, singing, cheering youth embracing their Catholic faith and loving the Lord. We heard Catholic speakers that had us clutching our sides laughing and then looking within ourselves seeking the meaning for being human. We slept little and prayed a lot.

On Sunday morning, our emcee Ennie Hickman used a parable to conclude our time together. A football team huddles to draw up a play, assign roles, and ultimately to prepare for what is to come -- the next play. It would be ridiculous for a team to huddle, break, and instead of lining up to run the play, jog to the sideline waiting for the next huddle. The huddle isn't the point. It's only meant to prepare us for what is to come. This conference serves a similar function. We can't go to the sideline waiting for the next Steubenville, the next huddle. We must live vibrantly, fully, faithfully in our world. We have to run the play! We have to make a decision to love the Lord every day through our faith communities and our Church.

When we do that we keep the foretastes coming. We keep our eyes on Heaven with our feet planted on earth. We may not ever know all God is doing. We can't. But we don't need to know to love. To trust. To be faithful.

So we exit the huddle, ready for the world, renewed in our faith, prepared for the play. God goes beside us. 1-2-3, BREAK!

P.S. Who are the two yahoos in the teal shirts that snuck into our picture? I didn't even notice them! And for a bonus, here is Ben Walther singing one of the anthems from the weekend.