World Youth Day

Twelve years ago, I met a Saint.  Ok, to be honest, I didn't meet him in person, but I did come close to him.  He did pass me by, encased in his glass "Popemobile," and I saw him up close with my own two eyes.  If I had shouted to him, absent of the roar of the rest of the crowd, he could have heard me!  Maybe he even saw me, or waved to me.  Yesterday, October 22, 2014, was the first official feast day for St. John Paul II.  And it was yesterday that I realized that I was once in the presence of a Saint.  

I don't tell the story of World Youth Day 2002 very often.  Probably because my long term memories of the experience are kind of fuzzy.  And probably because it was such an unbelievable experience that to describe it well is virtually impossible.  In July of that year, over 850,000 young people descended upon Toronto for a week of events that culminated with an overnight vigil and Papal Mass.  It was Pope John Paul II's last World Youth Day and my first.  

"You are the salt of the earth...you are the light of the world."  

There were two separate groups that went from our Diocese, one of college students, and the other for high schoolers.  I went as a chaperone (at the ripe old age of 21) with the high school group.  We took two charter buses from Missouri to Toronto, Canada.  I remember that we stayed outside of the main part of the city.  Each day we would drive into the area of Toronto where the events were held, and each night we would drive back to the hotel.  While many of the WYD participants slept on floors of churches in sleeping bags, we had much more comfortable accommodations.  I think we all wish, in retrospect, that we hadn't.  

One night, as our bus traveled the dark streets of the Toronto area, a pedestrian walked out into the road.  Our driver had a green light, the person was wearing dark clothing, and there was never a chance that we would see him.  After the initial impact, and the rumbling through the bus that we had just hit someone, I remember immediately curling up in a ball in my seat, trying not to throw up and cry.  And just as quickly as I curled into myself, I remember thinking, "I am one of the leaders here!"  So I took a deep breath and forced myself up out of my seat, hurrying to check that the teens on the bus were okay.  I remember all of us praying the rosary on the side of the road as we waited for emergency personnel.  I remember how scary and sad and heavy that night and the next day felt for us all.  I don't think that we ever officially got word about what happened to the pedestrian.  We all assumed the worst, and it was probably a fair assumption to make.  One thing is for certain, he had a lot of people praying for him.  

"You are the salt of the earth...you are the light of the world."

I remember the crowds! The throngs of Catholics from all over the globe!  Flags were flying over our heads as far as the eye could see.  People were chanting and singing in their own languages, and dancing to the songs of others.  I think that we even flew a Mizzou flag!

I remember that we went to a concert and danced to Matt Maher singing "Pharaoh, Pharaoh" and "Your Grace is Enough," not knowing that a member of our group would later go on to actually play in his band! 

I remember walking the Stations of the Cross through the streets of Toronto and kneeling on the hard sidewalks as we remembered Christ's passion and death.  

I remember standing in line one evening, holding the hand of my teenage friend who was going to reconciliation for the first time in a long time.  

"You are the salt of the earth...you are the light of the world."

And then there was the "pilgrimage."  We walked and talked and sang along the way to the site of the Papal vigil.  I think it was an old airfield, or something like that.  Picture a wide open space, large enough for almost a million people to gather.  I remember waiting in lines that were too long for food that was not enough.  We found a spot for our group to camp out for the night, but we hadn't brought tents.  We were to sleep under the open skies!  And that night, the weather almost got the best of us.  Torrential rain and winds set in across the area.  I remember building makeshift shelters out of barricades set up for traffic flow and tarps that someone in our group had.  We were freezing and wet and the water still dripped/poured in through our poorly constructed lean-tos.  And then there were tornado warnings!  I'm not even kidding.  I think at one point we may have evacuated to somewhere, but I can't say for sure if that is a false memory or if it really happened.  

And then, in the morning, the sun rose.  And Pope JPII arrived!  And he was driven through the crowds and we were so close to him!  And we celebrated Mass together, receiving communion consecrated by the Holy Father himself.  And I remember the stillness of the crowd and the holiness of the time that we spent, thousands of us joined together in prayer and in awe of the wonders of God's love for us.  It still feels like it happened in a dream.  

"You are the salt of the earth...you are the light of the world."

Saint John Paul II was just that.  He was salt and light.  His fire for Christ lit the flames of so many others along the way, and we Catholics shine so much more brightly because of his wisdom and guidance.  As completely insane as our World Youth Day experience was, I think it could be a good metaphor for our faith lives.  They are tumultuous--we are alternately filled with joy, and weighed down by such heavy burdens and sadness.  There are hard roads to walk that leave our bodies aching and our hearts gasping, and beautiful moments that take our breath away.  And one day, when we are reunited with God in Heaven, we will be able to look back at our lives and say, "What a crazy ride! I'm so glad I came!"

Saint John Paul II, pray for us!