FRIDAY, JULY 18, 2008

Thank the Good Lord above catechesis was only for three days and that it had finally come to an end. I had a bit of the responsibility taken off my hands when Penitito (one of the guys working for WYD and now CYS) offered to lead the praise and worship section of the morning, a group of Kiwis (New Zealanders) offered to sing the recessional hymn, and a very kind Chinese guy from Melbourne offered to play the organ for the Mass parts. In the end, nothing went as we rehearsed, but c’est la vie!

A German man did come up after the session ended and informed me he had lived in Indianapolis! He was really very nice, and said he had greatly enjoyed his time in the Midwest - I hear that quite often! I guess I come from a very likeable part of the world.

Once more, and for the final time, we boarded the train from our catechesis venue, setting into the city. We made our way into Darling Harbor where we were to help evangelize during the dramatic re-enactment of Stations of the Cross, cast with actors from around Sydney. The prayer took place throughout the city, stopping at such famous locations as St. Mary’s Cathedral, the Sydney Opera House, the Botanic Gardens, Darling Harbor, and Barangaroo, which is where the last stations were staged. At every location, and maybe even throughout the streets, the play was broadcast on large jumbo screens, as well as shown on TV to over a billion people.
They say it was beautiful, breath-taking, stunning, emotional, excellent…I can’t confirm or deny these praises though, because I unfortunately barely saw a minute of the performance. Our job was to walk around handing out booklets about the Catholic faith to people who looked like they weren’t in the area for the Stations of the Cross, but actually had just wondered there by accident or out of curiosity at all the people who had invaded their city. With these books, we made friends, and attempted to give them what could very well be their first taste of what the Catholic faith is, as well as provide a friendly face (SMILE!) for them to associate with the religion.

It was a bit of a tough job - not only because it’s tough to evangelize as it is, but most of the people there didn’t need evangelization! However, in spite of the fact that some of my “victims” were just being polite, I was able to have several conversations throughout the 3 or so hours we were “on duty” with people who maybe could have used a little God in their lives. I spent a lot of time talking with some high-school aged boys (you can imagine some of the questions they were asking once I got them talking) and I also spoke with some Polynesian girls.

We were in pairs, I suppose mostly for safety and support, but my lovely partner decided he wouldn’t mind wondering off without me. When I couldn’t find him, I set off to find some other familiar faces…or at least some familiar accents. I spent a good deal of time conversing with three Americans from Connecticut - they were very nice, and obliging, if nothing else - I suppose it probably struck them as odd that a crazy American girl running around seemingly by herself with a bag full of Catholic booklets spent so much time talking to them, but it was just nice to have some friendly company. It was not all banter though, because while I was meant to be doing some teaching during this time, I was actually taught a very good lesson while I was speaking with them. Of course a conversation I have often is an explanation of my place in Sydney, and being tired, homesick, and a bit out of sorts, especially during WYD week, I told them I was “stuck in Sydney” doing work for a ministry team and WYD, and would probably be here until the end of the year, but I was ready to go home. Their jaws hit the floor, and stayed there, until one of the guys gasped,
“stuck in Sydney?!?! There are worse places to get ‘stuck’ I can tell you that!”
Oh. Right. Oops.
I forgot that this is an incredible place, one that many people choose as a top vacation destination, one that some only dream of glimpsing, one that is world-renowned for it’s dramatic architecture, excellent waterside location, and overall class and multi-cultural flavors. I also forgot that I happen to live in one of the most prime locations of this fabulous city: 15 minutes walk from the beach with a sweeping ocean view in an upscale and secure suburb. Maybe I even forgot that despite all the “problems” of team: the hard work, the emotional difficulties, the messes and mistakes we all make, the uncertain, yet demanding services we are expected to provide, and the frustrations that come from living with a group of strangers for several months, that in fact I am not hungry, thirsty, dirty, homeless, cold, naked, imprisoned, abused, persecuted, ill, lonely, desperate, or stuck. I am actually one of the most blessed people in the world - and I can’t even see that. An ordinary yet providential conversation in the midst of an extraordinary event, one sponsored in full by the Holy Spirit, is not bound to produce an ordinary result. On the contrary, in this case, it brought about enlightenment and a necessary shift in perspective - God speaks to us always, if we only stop to listen. What a gift!

After it seemed ‘safe’ to stop evangelizing (even though it’s actually a never-ending job), I grabbed a bit of dinner with some friends who I ran into and then headed into the Vocations Expo again. I decided I needed to give it another go and within that decision I also moved to avoid the spot I had spent almost all of my time in the night before. This time I wondered most of the other aisles, collecting a whole bag full of pamphlets, information and prayer cards, rubber bracelets, and other publicity materials from all the different orders. I stopped by the booth the Sisters of Life had occupied and Sr. Mary Gabriel, their vocations director (who I had met upon their arrival to Sydney) said hello, and I was actually quite surprised that she remembered me! She must have met thousands of people in her time in Sydney. Well thank goodness I saw her because she reminded me there was a Eucharistic Healing procession on at the Love ‘n’ Life site (located on the campus of Notre Dame, this was the large operation the Sisters of Life and Knights of Columbus ran throughout the whole week). The Love ‘n’ Life site was Jovina’s baby - the project she had been assigned during the preparations for the week. She had helped coordinate the Sisters as well as the site itself, liaising with them while they were still in NYC and then hosting them one they arrived down under. I hadn’t had the opportunity to see it for myself at that point, so with about half an hour (or less?), I scurried around the rest of the Vocations Expo and then high-tailed it across the city (first on foot, then succumbing to bus) to Notre Dame. However just before I exited the hustle and bustle of the convention centre, I almost literally bumped into 2 of the 5 people I knew from Indianapolis! O, the providence of WYD! It’s just too bad that I only had 15 minutes to make my trek…

On my way to the bus stop, I got stopped by an American who, instead of greeting me with a “Hello, how are you? I see that you are American as well!” (I proudly wore my flag as a cape most of the week), immediately asked “Where are you from?”
Excuse me?
What happened to beginning with, “Hello, my name is”….“Hey fellow American”….
I found that often throughout the week Americans didn’t ask anything else but where I was from, and not being so stupid as Americans abroad usually are (not WYD pilgrims of course, but others who travel here for school or work), I always answered “Indianapolis, Indiana” to avoid the questions that would come if I answered simple, “I’m from the States” or “I’m from Indiana” - let’s just give them as much information as possible so they don’t pester me with pointless queries. What an attitude I had developed!
Anyway, I asked an impolite question right back, because this guy who had stopped me was wearing a Roman collar and since he was young, I just assumed he was a seminarian and asked him what seminary he went to. This is impolite because WHAT if he was fully ordained! How rude to ask a priest what seminary he goes to! Luckily, though, I got it right, and when he said Mount Saint Mary’s (a seminary in Emmitsburg, Maryland), I smiled, thinking of a friend from high school who attends the same seminary. “It’s a long shot,” I said, “But you don’t know Scott Lutgring do you?” Sure enough, this guy lives on the same floor as Scott! Is it a small world or not, because I’m getting claustrophobic, to tell you the truth! I couldn’t believe it.

Just before I was about to walk off, he stopped me again, this time with another somewhat abrupt question. “Where’s your group?”
Uhhh….
“I fly solo.” HAHA
O dear. Actually, I do.
It was interesting, because until he asked me that, I thought it was normal to romp around Sydney on your own during WYD. I thought that sticking with a group (not that I really had one to stick with, exactly) would have been a pain, because we all would have wanted to go in opposite directions, and ended up splitting up anyway. Why bother in the first place? Then I remembered how “normal pilgrims” experience the week, and that is with a group - one that has ridden the same airplane/bus/train as you, eaten the same food as you, been lead by the same leaders as you, slept on the same hard gym floor as you, shared a toilet and shower with you and 200 other people…It’s all POPE: Part Of the Pilgrim Experience! Yet it would seem that I was not a normal pilgrim. As I pondered this reality, I quite easily came to terms with it, aware that it doesn’t matter in what capacity a person experiences WYD. God works through everything, and His plan is tailor made for each one of us - I was just where He wanted me to be, and the company I kept (or didn’t) was according to His will as well. Without that faith, the week doesn’t make sense.

I waltzed into the Love ‘n’ Life Site in plenty of time to make the Eucharistic healing procession - in fact, I even caught the tail end of the concert put on by Celtic Springs, a multi-talented show family from California. WOW! Talk about entertaining! They can sing, play the fiddle or some sort of Irish instrument, and dance (think Riverdance, clogging?) - usually all at the same time! I say family because it was an entire family - Mom, Dad, Big sister, big brother, middle sister, middle brother, little sister, and little brother. SO CUTE!

I saw Sr. Mary Karen, Jovi’s main contact, and talked with her for a while, only to be disappointed in hearing from her that Jovi wasn’t there! She was off rehearsing for some TV appearance or other. She was quite a star the whole week - she appeared on a few different shows that were being filmed around the city, both American and Australian! Her view of WYD was quite a different one than most of us, that’s for sure! I had hoped to see her at the site, since that’s where she spent her time when she wasn’t being famous, but like I said, there is a providence about WYD, and if that did not permit our meeting, I would have to settle for it!

I did run into Sr. Mary Gabriel again, and at this point her memory astounded me even more. Not only did she remember me, she even remembered that on her first day in Sydney, when we met, she had explained the Sisters crazy method of feeding the masses: they packed thousands of cookies from the States to distribute at the site, and among those were lots and lots of OREOS! O how I have missed Oreos. Of course I shared that with her, and naturally, she said I would have to come to the site and get some, but early in the week because surely those would go fast!
Well that was July 6, and by July 18 that conversation had long been pushed to the corners of my brain, but not for her. On this Friday, amidst the chaos of WYD, she said to me, “Did you get an Oreo yet? I can’t believe it but there are still some inside!”
I was in such shock! (well, after the fact anyway) Do you see how amazing WYD is? And how incredible the people of this faith are? To remember such a minute detail! Astounding.

And that wasn’t all - on my way to claiming my Oreo, I discovered that Sr. Mary Karen had been mistaken: there was Jovi, sitting on a bench! As if she was waiting for me…Of course we both freaked out, “O MY GOSH IT’S WORLD YOUTH DAY!!! O MY GOSH, HOW ARE YOU? IT’S SO GOOD TO SEE YOU!!!” You would have thought we hadn’t seen each other in years…It really was exciting though, for me because I thought I wasn’t going to see her, and for her (I’m guessing) because I don’t think she expected me to walk by at that point. You could barely separate us the rest of the night - the companionship of a true friend is irreplaceable.

The concert wound down, and I spoke with a few of the other sisters (all such extraordinary women!) before we headed into the church for the Eucharistic healing procession (which either started late or time stood still for a while). Afterward, Jovi and I both agreed that it was an extremely necessary part of the week for both of us. This might surprise you, but on the 4th official day of WYD, I finally stopped and was quiet with God. I finally prayed. Surrounded by the excitement and energy the Catholic faith contains, I had hardly slowed to sleep, eat, or shower, and quiet and personal prayer had not made it into the essential daily tasks. Praying with thousands has somewhat of a different quality to it, and we all need that individual and quiet time with the Lord, and that is exactly what that Friday evening afforded.

A Eucharistic healing procession is a time of intimacy with Jesus: the Blessed Sacrament is exposed in a monstrance, which is held by a priest in front of any and every individual who chooses to come forward and closely worship and adore Christ. There is the opportunity to touch the veil the priest uses to hold the monstrance, or to touch the monstrance itself, receiving the beautiful peace that comes from gazing face to face with our Lord Jesus. The Sisters of Life and the Franciscan Friars of the Renewal coordinated the guided prayer session, providing soft reflective music and worship, which in comparison with the ear-blasting concerts of the week, was completely soothing. It was a really special night.

Jovi and I helped clean up a bit afterward, eventually making our way towards the train station to head off home. After we parted ways, I was surprised to find a few of the CYS guys and a few others who were staying in our house waiting at the same bus stop! It was nice to have company on the way home. See, I don’t always fly solo…God provides!

It ended up being a late night because of a miscalculation in transportation, but it didn’t even matter. When we finally got home I flopped into bed at peace, knowing the next morning’s alarm clock would not lead me to a stressful catechesis session, but instead to the final adventures of WYD, in which I had absolutely no responsibility.