We see that, like the tongues of fire that divided and fell on all in the upper room, the tongues, the speech and language of the apostles, divided and fell on the ears and hearts of all present in the crowd.
One of these silent yet powerful figures that I love to hear about is Lazarus, the man Jesus so famously raised from the dead four days after his death. Think about the story that this Lazarus must have had. We know that Jesus called him a friend and even wept because of his death. We know that he followed Jesus from that point and that his sisters were Saints Mary and Martha, but apart from these details we know very little and we don’t hear a single word leave his lips.
Yet, as we read later, Lazarus was seen as dangerous.
Ministry is a challenge. A beautiful and sanctifying challenge, but a challenge nonetheless.
This fact is emphasized, and may even be caused in part by the fact that instead of peddling widgets or reaching deadlines, we work for and serve people. Messy, sticky, often unpredictable human persons who are as unique and individualized as the snowflakes that covered my home and parish all winter long. We can state trends and patterns about teens in the most general and terms possible, but unlike a chair or a car that is an exact clone of the one made before, the next teen to walk through your door is completely different than the one that just walked out.
Teens who had never been to Eucharistic Adoration before and had run from the very notion of encountering Jesus now lined up to stand face to face, nose to nose, with Jesus in the monstrance and to be introduced to him and prayed with. Sins were renounced. Hearts were healed. Teens that had turned their back on the faith now clutched the humeral veil and kissed the monstrance with tears in their eyes. A brother and sister who had lost their dad now felt the love of the Father. Young men in the clutches of sexual sin resolved to step up and out of their lust. Young women who had been hiding from love finally opened their hearts perfect Love.
I was forced to ask myself, does my pastor know I’m Catholic? What about the rest the staff? If someone walked in off the street, knowing nothing about the Catholic faith or what all those crosses and stained glass stand for, would they think that this was anything but just another office?