Touch

She probably doesn't remember, but a few days ago after a long day at work and thinking about many things before me, I was feeling anxious when my mom walked by me and gently rubbed my shoulder, the place where she knows I carry my tension. It was a natural motion, a loving one, a soothing touch only a mother could offer. And it was ideal for me in that moment. My mom has a sense for those sort of tender touches or encouraging words. What she did for me in that moment probably would not have worked for many people and seemed inconsequential, yet I am still thinking about it a couple weeks later. Why?

It's something about motherhood, and while I can't quite give definition to what I felt, I know it was unique to the relationship I have with my mother. It was 28 years of shared life, communication without words, support without knowing, and meaning without trying. In my reading lately the subjects of masculinity and femininity have emerged consistently. Theologians try to uncover the mysterious and seemingly lost art of what makes us the genders unique and complementary. These are not gender roles--men and women can cook, clean, minister, work, teach, and do a variety of other actions while choosing manhood and womanhood.

I recently heard someone describe masculinity as the potential to be a father and femininity as the potential to be a mother. Not everyone would agree with these definitions, and I'm still pondering them. Something about these ideas communicates truth. Many individuals will not father or mother children or ever marry, yet each woman and every man possesses the ability to sacrificially love others and God. Jesus never fathered a child, never married a woman, never did many of the things we associate with fatherhood. Rather, he lived his potential by caring for others, by teaching them, by praying for them, by feeding them, by helping them find meaning, by asking the right questions, by abiding in friendship, by emptying himself at the appointed time for his beloved. He practiced absolute masculinity. The lives of each person, male or female, should be modeled after Jesus, but he also distinctly models for males the fullness of masculinity, different than femininity yet not greater. The life of Jesus offers us a lifetime of reflection and challenges toward growth as men. Where, then, should women look for a model of femininity?

Mary.

Whether one is Catholic, whether one has a devotion to the Mother of God, whether one knows Mary at all, one thing I hope can be declared without dispute: She is a beautiful model for women. The woman is receptive in some way from the female body to the feminine personality. The woman receives life through the sexual embrace; the woman nurtures that life physically and emotionally as a mother and wife; the woman longs to receive authentic love. Reception is vital to femininity, and Mary receives God and receives life. Her "yes" changed the course of history. God never impedes on our freedom of choice, so Mary's fiat was freely given. She embraced the life of the Lord within her, becoming the first tabernacle. Upon the birth of Jesus, she cared for him, changed his clothes, fed him, taught him, watched him grow, gave him her love as his mother. She coaxed the first miracle from him at Cana, was beside him during his ministry, and watched her Son's Passion as one of the few devoted witnesses.

In Luke 11, a woman from the crowd proclaimed, "Blessed the womb that bore you and the breasts that fed you!" Jesus replied, "More blessed still are those who hear the word of God and keep it!" At first this may seem a slight toward Mary, but this instead points to the deeper reason she is to be emulated--not because carrying the Son of God somehow rubbed off on her magically but because she was receptive to God's call to bear fruit. She lived femininity wonderfully.

Now back to my mom's touch. In the simplest of actions, she graced me with her femininity. Just a few seconds, but so full of grace. She sensed my tension, was receptive to my mood, and responded as only she could. It wasn't a fiat that changed the world, but it was a motion that altered the moment. Sometimes that's all we can offer: To be present, to respond. Whether it's a touch or a load of laundry or an encouraging card or a forgiving word, we are called to show mercy, to show obedience, to show grace, to show love.

I am exploring authentic masculinity and won't ever know what it means to be feminine, but I caught a glimpse of their complementarity through my mother. May I, may we never cease striving for self-improvement, for authentic expression of our deepest identity, for living as the beloved, and for embracing the Lord's plan for our lives.

Fruits

When I arrived at St. Elizabeth Ann Seton Church in 2008, the first public event I attended was the parish picnic in September. I had met very few people at that point, and two of the first teens I encountered were Paul and Greg Dellino. Paul served on the Leadership Team for two years prior and would continue to do so in his senior year. He took me to the soccer field on the search for more teens and more introductions, and we found Greg. At first, Greg only gave me a passing glance when Paul told him my name, but then Paul added, "Greg, this is the new youth minister. His name is Daniel."

"Ohhhhhhhh!" Greg said, embracing me with a big hug. It was the first of many we would share over the next six years, and our friendship led me back to Seattle this week for Greg's wedding to a young woman named Stephanie he met at a church retreat in 2009. My time as youth minister and beyond is enhanced by the opportunity I have had to walk with Greg and Stephanie as a mentor, friend, and this weekend, as a groomsman and witness as they celebrated the sacrament of matrimony.

Stephanie likes to credit me with introducing them, but I can't take credit. In reality, Stephanie and her cousin Tori (one of her bridesmaids last night) had to attend a retreat to receive the Sacrament of Confirmation, and they somewhat hesitantly agreed to go. Greg signed up as well. A friendship ensued, a relationship followed, and years later, a marriage began.

A few times at the reception, Greg and Stephanie's youth was mentioned (they are both 21). Young, yes, but surrounded by two incredibly supportive and wise families and steeped in a Catholic faith that introduced them originally and puts the Lord at the center of their relationship. Greg and Stephanie have many experiences to come. They will be living outside of their parents' homes for the first time. This year, Stephanie will work during the week and stay with her parents two hours from where Greg is going to school to finish his undergraduate degree. They will pay bills, negotiate time, discover how to share a bathroom, communicate in a new way, and enter into independence together. The prospects are thrilling and scary, but they go forth together.

I must admit that Greg and Stephanie's youth makes me nervous, but in reflecting on the times in my life that experiences made me nervous, I realize the decisions that required inner fortitude forced me to face the unknown, to grow, and to rely on the Lord. I hope, I pray, I believe that Greg and Stephanie's marriage will have the same effect.

Last summer Greg's father Steve died after a years-long struggle with a rare form of cancer. We celebrated his life last July, and this year, his two sons started families of their own in marriage. Steve left this world an incredible gift of life with his wife Jean, and the weddings of Paul to Erin in June and Greg to Stephanie in August signal how precious, fruitful, and lasting was a marriage lived well between Steve and Jean.

As a youth minister, seeing two former teens marry in the Church, give vows that express their love and commitment, and ask me to be part of their celebration is humbling and achingly beautiful. I will keep the Dellinos in prayer as their life's work begins of loving freely, totally, faithfully, and fruitfully each day they spend together.