Two seminarian brothers and I planned many months ago to spend part of the break in Seattle exploring the city and doing the tourist circuit through Pike Place Market, the Space Needle, the waterfront, downtown, at St. James Cathedral, among local churches, and eating nice meals. Before our trek northward, the Mount Angel basketball team took part in the Rose City Classic, a four-team tournament hosted annually by Multinomah University on President's Day weekend. Last year our team finished just shy of the championship after leading most of the penultimate game, and we had set our ambitions to beat our rivals from MU this year.
In game one, we faced a scrappy Samoan team put together at the last minute. No worries for us, right? Wrong. They had one shooter who rarely missed. He hit ten three-pointers on his way to 48 points. But we won a tight contest. The next day in the championship game, we played Multinomah for the fourth time this season. The score was high -- they shot the ball well, and we used our size advantage to score most of our points in the paint. At half, we led 52-51. I had two personal goals for the game: To score in double digits and to hold the opposition's best scorer (who I guarded most of the time) to under 20 points. If I did those things, I thought to myself, we would win based on what we had done all year. Unfortunately, we could not stop Multinomah in the second half. I reached my personal goals, and we scored a season-high in points, but they had crafted a game plan offensively that we couldn't match with our man-to-man scheme. Plus they brought a varsity player down to face us, and he provided a big boost as an extra big man to counter our most significant advantage: size. Multinomah beat us again 105-96. Still, we had reason to be proud. Our limitations as seminarians make it difficult for us to compete against teams like Multinomah that have far more players, more practice, and more resources. Losing stings, especially after putting forth so much work during the season, but what we lack in victories, we can still make up in virtue. Being graceful in defeat is far more defining than being celebratory in triumph.
Photo by Ivan Garcia, Deus Photography.
We spent the night at the home of my seminarian brother Stephen's family, and the next morning departed for the Emerald City. Seattle treated us well -- sunny skies, welcoming friends, uplifting liturgies, and much to explore. We opted for the full experience of the Space Needle since a ticket to the observation deck is $20 by itself and a nice meal in the 360-degree rotating Sky City Restaurant is only a few bucks more. The clouds obliged with a clear, beautiful afternoon. This is a rare treat I only expect to have a couple times in my life, and to point out all I knew about Seattle with my seminarian brothers was thrilling.
Besides the Space Needle, I took Frankie and Stephen to see vendors throw fish at Pike Place, to walk beneath the towering new ferris wheel on the waterfront, to visit Stephen's cousins in the U-District, to devour my favorite bubble tea, to meet some of the beautiful people at St. Elizabeth Ann Seton Parish where I used to work, to poke around the holy grounds at St. James Cathedral, to capture the views at Kerry and Gasworks Parks, to drive the streets of my alma mater, Seattle Pacific University, to the many sites around Seattle Center, and to the home of our gracious host, Deacon Craig, to rest at the end of our site seeing days.
The last leg of our trip was to Boise for the Idaho Catholic Youth Convention. Four seminarians from the Diocese of Boise joined us, and we enjoyed a weekend to celebrate our shared faith with over 1,600 youth from around the Northwest. As seminarians, we are asked to serve at the liturgies, man the vocations booth, interact with youth groups, and lead the ongoing rosary. Each seminarian contributed uniquely and enjoyed the event their own way. The highlight for me was being the thurifer (incense-bearer) for the Eucharistic Procession on Saturday night. Hundreds of teens fell to their knees before their God, our God, the God of all. As thurifer I led the procession walking backwards with incense streaming and my eyes fixed on the monstrance that holds the true and living Jesus Christ. Processions like this convince me afresh that teens do not need to be entertained to be invited into the salvation story -- they need to be engaged. And what is more engaging than our God present to them in a tangible, mystical, and inexpressible way? Hearts were touched, lives were converted, and I got to play ever so small a part in God's revelation.
The end of our journey over break was harrowing, but you can read about that in the post below. Spring break is over now. Midterms have begun. Please keep me in your prayers as I do you in mine. See you in the Eucharist, my friends!
ICYC Photos by Savannah Amyx:
No comments:
Post a Comment