Be Not Idle

Pope John Paul II said it often that young people need Jesus. I have a student who is a senior. I’ve had him in class less than 15 days, but it’s clear that he’s troubled in his heart.  Other students have plans for the future - sometimes totally unrealistic or intentionally hyperbolic plans - but he doesn’t want to think about it.

Sometimes my students will express the wish that school would be over and they could do something more interesting. More often than not, “interesting” means hanging out with friends and/or doing nothing in particular. But many of the  seniors  become anxious when they realize that school doesn’t last forever. They have to make plans and do something because they want to, not because they’re being forced by laws or their parents.

One of my collegues commented, “There’s something wrong when students have no goals; they imagine no future.”  In other words, they have no hope.

It’s not just the “at-risk” kids who feel hopeless. Sometimes they are students who have a lot going for them, but seem depressed or lacking in self-confidence. I often wonder if they are longing for something less material than what usually ends up in the “futureography” essays: “good-paying job”, “lots of friends and parties”, etc.  Someone who gives them hope.

 So this young man is going to become my special prayer intention during Lent. I scarcely know him, but I know he’s hurting.

I had a very odd and enlightening dream two nights ago.  The only question is whether it’s a warning or a reminder.

I was in the parking lot of the church in my hometown. It was nearly full, as if for a holy day. The sun was shining and it was warm, so it might have been Easter. I was wearing a flowered dress and white shoes, so maybe it was May Crowning.

There were pennies and a nickel on the pavement and I squatted carefully (because I was wearing a skirt) to pick it up.

 When I picked up the change, I spotted some more underneath a truck.  I leaned forward and picked it up. Then I stood and saw quarters glittering on the pavement a few steps away.  Other people looked to see what I was doing, but they headed into church.

Long story short: I was still out in the parking lot when everyone began to sing. So I was missing Mass, but I was still out there picking up change - and I felt guilty but I couldn’t or didn’t stop. (It was not clear to me whether I was in charge or was compelled.) 

 I awoke somewhat disturbed.