Speaking Out

During elementary school, my smile was a dental nightmare. The question was not whether I needed braces, but when I would get them. The answer to that was Grade 10. And although I was afraid and uncertain about how this would all play out, hindsight has shown me that dental treatment complemented my faith life.

As soon as I received my braces, I was slapped with a list of things that I could and could not eat, and habits I would have to pick up to make sure my teeth were taken care of properly. After appointments with my orthodontist, my teeth and mouth would ache for at least a few hours, sometimes for days. On top of that, I was told that I would have to wear braces — and all the rules and pain that came with them — for at least two years.

As time passed, luckily for me, things became easier to bear, and I began to notice that my dental work shared similarities with my faith. Sometimes people think that being Catholic restrains you because of all the different rules you’re asked to follow. I knew these rules were far from restraining; they were guiding principles that led me towards goodness and God, the greatest good. I realized that, like the commandments, the rules given to me with my braces were there for my benefit, to prevent me from hindering the treatment. Unless I followed them, the braces would leave scars or be ineffective.

I better understood St. Paul when he wrote, “You are not under law but under grace” (Rom 6:14). That’s not to say that we can disobey the commandments, but it means that by grace we can live a faithful life within the boundaries they set. Realizing this changed my prayer life, as I began to pray often for the grace to make certain good actions habitual.

Reflecting on the pain I sometimes felt because of my braces, I understood that suffering in my life ultimately made me a stronger person. Just as my teeth were only straightened after enduring pain, my virtues were tested and strengthened by trials and suffering. I could only trust in God’s wisdom during these times, and this trustful surrender to Divine Providence became a source of great peace for me.

Having braces also taught me that change comes slowly. It may have taken two years, but God definitely made my crooked teeth straight. As St. Francis de Sales said, “Have patience with all things, but chiefly have patience with yourself.” Growing in patience, in my prayer life, in my trust in God and in any virtue takes time to accomplish. I won’t be able to make good habits and positive change without a continual effort, but “Patience obtains all things,” said St. Teresa of Avila. “The crooked shall be made straight” (Lk 3:5) if we’re patient enough to let God straighten what needs straightening.

(Pereira, 17, is a Grade 12 student at Brebeuf College School in Toronto.)

I’ve been creating short promotional and comedic videos for about seven years now. Some of my work is on YouTube, and I was quite proud when I saw one video recently reached more than 1,000 views and had garnered a few “likes.” But this feat turned out to be quite a joke in the wake of the recent announcement by Guinness World Records regarding the music video Gangnam Style by Korean artist PSY.

Gangnam Style is a phrase referring to the lavish lifestyle of people in a district of Seoul, South Korea. Filled with poppy colours and lavish cinematography, the video features PSY’s signature horse-riding dance move in various places such as a beach, a parkade and a spa. It portrays the Gangnam lifestyle as total fun and extravagance.

On Sept. 22, this K-Pop video became the most “liked” video in YouTube’s history. Of the 330 million views it has received, 3.2 million people felt inclined to hit the “thumbs up” button because of its emotional effect. Clicking “like” may not be a difficult task, but the fact that so many people agreed to like the same four-minute video is remarkable. I believe it is an interesting case study for us Catholics. If we had a flashy music video promoting Catholicism that three million people liked, it could be a huge tool for evangelization. Can or should we try to replicate such a feat?

In his TED talk about viral videos, Kevin Allocca, the trends manager at YouTube, said that videos go viral based on tastemakers, communities of participation and unexpectedness. Tastemakers are influential people who take a point of view on a particular video and share that with a larger audience. So in PSY’s case, American rapper T-Pain tweeted about the video on July 29, and it took off from there. More and more celebrities and media outlets informed the public (community of participation) of its existence until it became a global dance phenomenon. And Gangnam Style definitely fills the criteria of an unexpected video with its random locations and abnormal activities.

Imagine a Catholic music video equivalent promoting the Pope, the Eucharist and our Blessed Mother. Would it take off? Perhaps, if it were unique enough and if a celebrity decided to mention it on his or her Twitter feed. But viral videos are a fad and will only stay popular for a certain period of time. Just think of Double Rainbow by Paul Vasquez or Rebecca Black’s Friday. Sure they were uber-popular for a while, but ultimately were replaced by the likes of Gangnam Style. And such will be the case for each viral video. The novelty eventually wears off.

So having a video alone will not evangelize; we need to have people reach deeper into their sometimesunacknowledged desire for faith and become enamoured with the love of God. However, getting the masses interested in the faith through something like a unique video is a good way to start. Since Gangnam Style went viral, millions of people all over the world have been introduced to Korean pop culture. And maybe, with a bit of creativity and effort, the world could also be introduced to and find it in their hearts to “like” some Catholic Style.

(Boston, 24, is a third-year fine arts and drama student at the University of Calgary.)

When I first came to The Catholic Register in April to complete a three-week internship, I never thought I’d be staying until Labour Day — but boy, am I lucky I’ve had the opportunity to do so.

I’ve worked in a lot of places — a lot of good places, in fact. But there is something different about The Register newsroom. Here is a rare work environment, one in which people are more than just
polite and conversational. Here, they care.

I graduated from my undergrad at Queen’s University in April 2011, and my experience in journalism really began in September of that year when I entered a two-year masters of journalism program at Carleton University.

I’d always been a confident person, but when it came to journalism, I wasn’t entirely sure I had what it took — and joining a class full of former editor-in-chiefs of their school papers only added to my nerves. It wasn’t until I landed myself at The Register that I really began to believe this was something I could do.

It’s rare for a summer intern to get many bylines — I know that. I see that with my classmates and friends, even the most experienced ones. But here, I’ve been fortunate enough to be given the opportunity to write full articles right from the get-go, ranging in topics from fundraising campaigns to chimney swifts, and everything in between.

In writing my stories, I’ve had the honour of interviewing so many wonderful people who make a difference in the Catholic community, people who have been kind and open and candid in a way that has allowed for my words to flow easily and for their stories to resonate with me.

But what has truly made the difference in my confidence as a journalist is not the length, type or number of stories I’ve written. Rather, it’s the unconditional support and encouragement I’ve received from my colleagues at The Register, people who have not only allowed me to realize I can be a journalist, but who have also taught me the true value of good, real relationships within a place of work.

This became especially clear to me one day about a month ago, when two faithful employees, Vanessa Santilli, the former youth editor, and Nigel Wheatley, the former web editor, both happened to be leaving at the same time.

Publisher and editor Jim O’Leary and the rest of The Register staff threw a goodbye luncheon for them, complete with gifts, cake and many words of thanks and well wishes for the future. The luncheon — which lasted far longer than a typical lunch hour — was full of hearty laughter and lively conversation.

As I looked around, I realized this is more than just a staff. It’s a family, a family of which I am so grateful to have been a part.

And so, as I head back into the world of coffee-fueled all-nighters and early-morning classes, I want to extend the greatest of thank yous to each and every person I have worked with this summer. You have each made my days here so enjoyable, and given me that extra dose of confidence I need to finish off my degree and kick-start my career.
I only wish every workplace could be like The Register.

One year ago, life was completely different. I was a high school student involved in few extra-curricular activities and I had a lot of free time. As the year went by, my involvement tripled and I found myself taking advantage of more opportunities and meeting more people. So, I can’t help but wonder if my life, as it is right now, would be different had I not taken certain chances.

In 2008, I was asked if I wanted to participate in an upcoming youth retreat. Hesitant, it was my parents’ encouragement that led me to experience my first retreat of many. I spent a weekend at Circle Square Ranch with the EDGE Youth Ministry program that I had been involved with since 2005. After the event, I learned that going to church or kneeling down to pray weren’t the only ways to experience God in my life. Soon enough, I became actively involved in my church and met many people who showed me that Catholicism isn’t only about my relationship with God, but also the relationship that I build with others in order to strengthen my relationship with Him. This, however, meant being open to taking chances in order to meet even more people.

When it came to trying new things, I suffered from indecisiveness. I was afraid to take risks for many reasons, the most obvious being the fear of looking silly. But I also did not want to be disappointed. Then, one day, I had a revelation: every chance is really a chance of a lifetime, and the only way I’d be disappointed is if I didn’t take risks at all.

Taking risks requires a great deal of courage and an even greater deal of faith. I have to trust that the Lord is guiding me and opening doors for me, so that I may learn, experience, wonder and understand that faith is much more than saying that I trust. Faith is proving that I trust by doing something I’m afraid of because, deep down, I know that what I’m about to do will only benefit the relationship I have with the Lord.

Instead of thinking of risks as potentially dangerous acts, think of them as opportunities to strengthen your faith. Had I not taken the chance to go on that retreat, I would have missed out on meeting talented, spiritual and honest people, and I probably wouldn’t have understood the impact that one weekend can make on one’s spiritual journey. Within just two days, my faith had increased to the point where I felt so uplifted and inspired to meet more people who understood what it was like to be a Catholic youth in today’s society.

Looking back, I see that every person and event placed in my life has challenged both me and my faith. For instance, coming to university and moving to a new city alone has been a test from God. I don’t have anyone to “take” me to Mass. When it comes to praying during a packed week, I remind myself that making time for God should be so engraved in me that it’s not something that should be put on my “to-do” list.

Every moment in life is an opportunity to grow closer to God, whether it be good or bad, for even the toughest moments are placed in my life by God to teach me a lesson and to help me, a child of God, grow in faith.

(Joanes, 17, is a Concurrent Education student at Queen’s University in Kingston, Ont.)

Blessed Pope John Paul II said that youth “must not miss out on the great opportunity to live the Gospel radically.” But why would the head of the Church call youth to live in a way that is radical? 

Often in modern society, I believe there is a tendency to domesticate God. In other words, we tend to adapt God to fit our own needs and desires. We can also adapt Christ to the point that we believe He approves or permits negative actions and lifestyles. I have often met people who believed firmly that it was perfectly fine to lie or cheat if they are just white lies. Sometimes, I find it comforting to be on the receiving end of a white lie. But these actions conform to society, which marks the turning point away from God. In a society where God has no place, we, by adapting to it, leave no place for God.

As a young person, it is difficult to fight against an entire society. But Christ was called a rebel in His day and He calls us to be the same. He spoke against the evils of His time and protested against any authority that contradicted the law of God and oppressed the freedom of the children of God. He didn’t shave His head or start a secret society. But He was a radical with a capital R.

I felt confused when I heard my parish priest speaking about Christ in this way. I always thought about Jesus as being meek and gentle and never pictured Him as radical. Had I not understood the message of Christ? My then-spiritual director led me to a Gospel passage: “I have come to set the world on fire, and I wish it were already burning” (Luke 12:49). Wow, I thought, is this the same Christ that instructs us to turn the other cheek? As I read the Gospel of Matthew, I continued to be in awe: “Don’t imagine that I came to bring peace to the Earth. I came not to bring peace, but a sword” (Mt 10:34).

I began to study the Gospel and my parish priest directed me to the lives of the saints, on which I found, surprisingly, well-made full-length movies, which aside from their personal text were perhaps some of the greatest resources to see and experience this double message of Christ: to be meek and a warrior at the same time; to be obedient and humble, yet a radical and a rebel.

As the the messiah and the son of God,  anyone who follows Christ belongs to His kingdom and must be ready to defend it and live His message.

A holy priest who had the privilege to celebrate Mass with Pope John Paul II once told me that giving ourselves entirely to Christ meant denying the world entirely, for the enemy of our faith is the king of the world, and with our valour and youth we can rebel against the evil of this world and fight with the weapons that Christ fought with — His love, sacrifice, prayer and example of life. So our war must not be through violence or hatred, for that would be conforming ourselves yet again to the world. Rather, through those things which the world mocks — peace, meekness, love and truth — we will succeed. This is why youth are called to live the Gospel radically and this is why Christ says, “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world” (John 16:33).

(Guzman, 20, is a third order member of the Institute of the Incarnate Word.)

New beginnings are exciting. They’re clean slates filled with seemingly endless possibilities and opportunities to learn. And with September comes a start of another school year.

I remember feeling incredibly excited when I first started my undergraduate program in history and political science at the University of Toronto because I had a chance to study all the subjects I enjoyed.

But new beginnings can also be tough, even scary. When I began attending graduate school in the fall of 2009 at Carleton University in Ottawa, I moved away from home. While I was excited, I was also anxious: it was my first time living away from my family and I had to adjust my skills to the demands of my master’s program in European, Russian and Eurasian Studies. Then in the first semester of my second year, I participated in a semester exchange at the University of Trento in Italy. It was the first time that I travelled outside of Canada on my own. I was living in a place where English was hardly spoken outside of campus and where the culture was different from my own. I could not communicate with the locals over simple things, such as when to pick up my bus pass at the station or which sandwich I wanted to buy. At first, these experiences were daunting and isolating and left me wondering how I was going to survive everything.

To tackle these feelings of loneliness and uncertainty, one of the first things I did — aside from consulting maps and bus schedules — was find a church where I could attend Sunday Mass. Finding a parish and going to Mass every weekend was important in my transition because it helped me establish an activity outside of school. It also helped acquaint me with my new surroundings.

Churches are physical symbols of our faith and reflect the history of their communities. The cathedral in Trento has a Gothic interior with massive stone pillars and a high ceiling. It is very different from St. Patrick’s Basilica, the church I attended when I was studying in Ottawa, that contains bright and detailed artwork on its columns, beams and ceiling. But both the Trento Cathedral and St. Patrick’s Basilica provided me with a sense of comfort and, over time, a sense of refuge when everything else in life became too hectic.

Finding a church helped me cope spiritually with the changes happening in my life. It is easy to feel stressed and overwhelmed by new situations, feelings that could have prevented me from enjoying and appreciating the new journey I was on. It was important not to let those feelings take over and overshadow my goals and dreams. These churches were places where I could reflect and regain a sense of perspective on everything.

Along with prayer, taking the time every week to go to church reminded me that God is there for me every step of the way. I only need to open my heart and mind to Him. As written in Psalms 34:4, “I sought the Lord, and He answered me, and delivered me from all my fears.” By keeping in touch with my faith, I am never alone, no matter how imposing or different my surroundings and challenges may seem. Faith is a cornerstone that always keeps me grounded.
(Bernardo, 25, lives in Toronto.)

My younger brother isn’t what I would call “cultured.” An 18-year-old on a boat cruise around Europe has priorities other than discovering the famous basilicas or the incredible detail in their paintings and sculptures. Before our trip last month, my mom and I talked a lot about whether or not Aidan would care to see — much less appreciate — all of the sights. How much groaning could we put up with while we bounced between pieces of history in these old Europeans cities? A fair bit, it turns out.

But something changed when we visited the Vatican. The complaining gave way to a flurry of questions our tour guide tried to answer before my brother interrupted with another question. He forgot how tired and hungry he was, how much his feet hurt or how comfy his bed was back on the cruise ship. He was totally immersed in the magnificence of the city. It seemed obvious to him that St. Peter’s Basilica wasn’t just another old church.

But that’s exactly what it is: an old church. St. Peter’s just happens to be a very important old church. After all, the entire state of the Vatican was built around it.  

The Vatican’s importance as the epicentre of our Catholic faith is lost on most 18-year-olds. They may know some details, but it’s much tougher to grasp the weight they carry. I thought the Vatican was just another old church too.

When I looked at pictures of St. Peter’s Basilica, I could see it was big, but I couldn’t see it was magnificent until I was standing in it. Similarly, a Google image search of the Sistine Chapel won’t make you feel the way you do when you’re looking with your neck craned back at the scenes painted on the ceiling. You don’t see the care, detail or incredible talent it took to create it. You don’t feel the intangible, indescribable something that makes the Vatican more than a big church until you walk through its museums and feel it for yourself.

It’s the art that creates this wonder. “It makes you think about human potential,” our tour guide mused while looking at the detail along every foot of the ceiling in St. Peter’s. People — young people in particular — are drawn in by it.

Amidst all the facts about the scaffolds they used or Michelangelo’s age when he carved the Pieta, there is a narrative. The art tells the story of our faith, capturing its divine messages and old parables. The art creates the questions which lead to discussion. Questions like why was the man who pierced the side of Christ canonized?

From there, the messages of our faith spread between curious onlookers, even after they leave the city. The difference between the art of the Vatican and many other efforts to spread the same messages is one of esthetics. The art gives onlookers only two options: stand in silent admiration or ask questions about it.

But the answer is just a bonus. Spiritual enrichment comes from all the people there who are doing the same thing. There is a sense of solidarity that transcends age, race, sex and even religion. Anyone can appreciate the art, regardless of whether they subscribe to the beliefs embedded in its narrative. That is what makes the city holy. That’s why St. Peter’s is more than just another old church.

God is always on time.

Just as I was brainstorming ways to combine three of my career interests — writing, editing and working with youth — The Catholic Register was hiring, and chose me as its new Youth Editor.

As Youth Editor, I look forward to guiding this year’s Youth Speak News team in covering stories and issues that are important to young Catholics and to our wider religious community. This year’s YSN team will strive to be effective communicators on whatever topics they cover because of their willingness to express and improve themselves and engage with their faith.

Catholic-oriented stories are everywhere, ranging from parishes to provinces and beyond. These stories can involve anything, such as faith music, policy, science, dance, business, film, community service and much more.

The Register fosters a partnership of faith and journalism, an unusual combination in the general media.

This will be my first time immersed in a faith-oriented workplace. As a child, however, my parents enrolled me in Catholic schools from pre-school to Grade 12, whether we were living in Boston, the island of Dominica or Toronto. I also spent about seven years as an altar server in the Salesian parish of St. Benedict’s in Etobicoke, Ont.

The Salesians are very youth focussed. I hope a little of that rubbed off on me. Belonging to the Knights of the Altar was an invaluable experience. Even though my only goal at the time was to have fun by volunteering, I have no doubt it encouraged my faith to grow. As I’ve learned from my predecessor, Vanessa Santilli, working for a faith-based publication can do the same.  

I thank Santilli for her work over the last two years as Youth Editor. Her enthusiasm for the position and all that the team has accomplished will continue to inspire me.

My main motivation as Youth Editor is a love of journalism. Journalism is an expression of life: what’s happening and who’s involved. If life is worth living, according to the famous Cardinal Fulton J. Sheen, then journalism is worth doing.

I anticipate a lot of newsworthy activity, especially among young Catholics as parishes prepare for World Youth Day 2013. But youth involvement with the faith is vast and has never been and never will be limited to one week.

In addition to contributing to the newspaper, I encourage the YSN team and our youth readership to think outside the page and contribute to our YSN blog, whether they do so through text or multimedia.

The blog is a great place to experiment, reflect on issues we don’t cover in the paper and expand on stories we do cover. It’s a place to include slideshows, audio, video, timelines and other fun forms of online media.  

I want both the youth section of the paper and the blog to engage and intrigue readers.

If you would like to share your ideas for the YSN section of the paper or the blog, please e-mail me at ruane@catholicregister.org. I would be happy to hear from you.

Two years can really change a person. Faith-wise, anyway.

During my time as Youth Editor, I have been blessed with the opportunity to go to World Youth Day in Madrid to see the Pope in person. I’ve read YOUCAT: The Youth Catechism of the Catholic Church. I’ve met with a spiritual director a couple times. I even hopped on a plane and travelled to Connecticut for a retreat with the Sisters of Life. But what is more astounding (to me, anyway) is the fact that I now like praise and worship music, even uploading some of these songs onto my iPod.

This is all a pretty big deal for me. I think things started changing after World Youth Day. Being in a climate where everyone was so open about their faith was really strange and amazing. Whereas before that the Catholic and non-Catholic worlds were always separate to me, for once, they were blended together. There was no filter.

I remember throwing around the term “faith journey” now and then over the years, but I don’t think I truly understood the term until this past year, when I was actually actively on one.

To be open to God isn’t an easy task. To have a genuine desire to listen is equally as challenging because it’s easier not to try to listen. But I’ve learned to try to be open, come what may.

My spiritual director shared a Bible verse from Jeremiah with me, and it has given me much food for thought: “I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans to give you a future with hope... when you search for me you will find me, if you seek me with all your heart, I will let you find me, says the Lord.”

This really stuck with me. Once I heard it, I wanted to hear it again. It was encouraging, exciting.

Through covering the Catholic community and getting to know many faith-filled people, I’ve learned a lot. We are the company we keep, after all.

YOUCAT was really helpful, too. Included in our pilgrim backpacks at World Youth Day (although you can buy them at Catholic bookstores, too), sections range from “What We Believe” to “How We Should Pray” to “How We Are to Have Life in Christ.” It has been a great resource for me and helped me to understand the basic tenets of the faith, which I assumed I knew.

The answer to the question, “Why do we need faith and the sacraments in order to live a good, upright life?” is one of the most relatable parts of the book.

“If we were to rely only on ourselves and our own strength, we would not get far in our attempts to be good,” it reads. “Through faith, we discover that we are God’s children and that God makes us strong.”

If I’ve learned one thing, it’s to trust in God. It sounds easy, but it’s surprisingly hard to let go and do. For now, I’ll just keep trying.

Heading to St. Patrick’s Catholic Street Patrol, I was apprehensive.  

The premise of the weekly event is to hand out sandwiches, drinks and snacks to the homeless on the streets of downtown Toronto during the hot summer months.

But the idea isn’t to give some food and move on. It’s to engage the homeless and to offer friendship to those on the outskirts of society.

With whole wheat turkey and mozzarella sandwiches in tow, I joined the group walking to Nathan Phillips Square. Just before reaching our destination, our group leader spotted two men she thought might want a sandwich.

I hung back at first, then joined the group.

A friend and I chatted with Bill for about 10 minutes. He talked about how he worked on the Rogers Centre when it was built (called the SkyDome back then) and how his father just had a big operation.

He told us he’d be going in to the hospital for surgery soon, but he was nervous because he didn’t want to be worked on by the med students.

Bill didn’t want a sandwich, he had just come from the Lawyers Feed the Hungry Program at Osgoode Hall.

As the organizers had told us, many people on the street just want some company. It’s still nourishment, just a different type.

As we entered the main area at Nathan Phillips Square, we encountered a group of about 10 homeless people gathered close together, made up of both men and women.

After giving out one sandwich, others started approaching me asking if they could have one, too. I asked others in the group if they wanted one as well and ran out of sandwiches.

I thought it was going to be an uncomfortable experience, but it wasn’t.

It was just people interacting with other people. I think that’s the best lesson of all. We’re all just fellow members of humanity and regardless of the amount of money to our name, both giving and receiving dignity and respect are priceless. Sure, recipients of Street Patrol gain. But, whether they realize it or not, so do the participants.

Going home that night, I opened the fridge to make a sandwich.

Seeing a variety of cold cuts to choose from, it felt like absolute abundance.

Fittingly enough, my father shared a page from a book he tore out while doing some stonework on an old factory earlier that day. It was a list titled, “Rules for Being Human.”

Bullet two resonated with me: “You are enrolled in full-time informal school called life. Each day in this school you will have the opportunity to learn lessons. You may like the lessons or think them irrelevant.”

The last statement read, “You will forget this.”

I’ll try my best not to forget what I learned at Street Patrol. And if I do, I can always go back next week.