August 2012

In our city, we make the most of friendly summer weather to treat ourselves to much-needed holidays — escape from the routine, time with family or friends, exploring new places, enjoying a hobby. This August, I observed a different vacation plan. A friend spent two weeks teaching teenagers at a “youth camp with a difference” to hammer, saw, assemble, paint, create and perfect. Together they built a handsome outbuilding which will stand for years to come as a manifestation of the power of community (for more, see The Register's coverage of the camp at www.catholicregister.org). The camp gave priority to families who might have had trouble affording such an opportunity for their kids. The out-building they built contributes to the site so that next year's kids will have an even better place to stay. The youth, rather than being given entertainment, were asked to learn, create and contribute. And, as they were able and willing, to pray. I watched them blossom under the opportunity. It was a good experience. How much of its goodness arose from my friend's gift of time and self? He voluntarily spent two weeks of his vacation time to lead the camp, as well as giving his expertise, enthusiasm and love of building and creating. The kids received all this, without necessarily being aware of it. It's good to be paid for our work, as St. Paul reminds us; but something irreplaceable comes through simple generosity. Something else happens when we close in on ourselves and refuse to be generous. I've felt the pull of stinginess, self-protection, closing down, looking inward, being careful, cautious, safe. These impulses aren't in themselves negative; they can be tools that help us recognize necessity, and do what we need to do. But they can also be the other side of an invitation to generosity. Lately, I've repeatedly heard the expression, “he can afford to be generous.” This sentence fills me with wonder: what does generosity have to do with affordability? Each has its own value, but they are quite different. Affordability is about measuring, counting and weighing — all necessary skills. Generosity has to do with an inner space and an openness to someone else's need. We must have an awareness that the world doesn't begin and end with our own stomachs, a sense that we've received and have something to give, something desirable and helpful to give. Generosity and joy are cousins. As my friend kept telling me during the youth camp, he was enjoying himself. Generosity can be difficult to the point of painfulness. Think of what it's like to be in a spat with your spouse or other intimate. You know you're right; you have a just complaint; what you're saying and doing is perfectly fair and reasonable. And you know that in this moment of struggle, you can speak to your spouse a word of kindness, forgiveness, mercy, tenderness — or you can withhold it. What a difference it can make, to offer or withhold such a word at such a moment. How hard it can be, to be generous in this way rather than cling to justice. It's astonishing that we do perform acts of generosity, given human nature and life's hardships — all of us struggling to survive, in a world that often seems harsh and unforgiving. Frequently, even. Unseen, un-repaid, unsung. The poet William Wordsworth referred to “those best portions of a good man's life: his little, nameless, unremember'd acts of kindness and of love.” Where do they come from? How did we get that way? In our impulse to generosity — and even more, in our acts of generosity — we discover something about ourselves. We learn that we're more than we know, more than an instinct to survive, more than our stomachs and bodies, more even than reason and justice. There's something limitless about us. “The measure of love,” wrote St. Francis de Sales, “is to love without measure.” We're capable of loving beyond measure, beyond reason. How could we do this if we hadn't first been given it? How can we discover our generosity without discovering our likeness to One whose generosity has no limits? Still, He limits Himself to our size so that we can discover our built-in connection to Him. And so we can exceed our limits, and find we’re bigger than we dream. “I measure and count myself, my God,” wrote the poet Rainer Maria Rilke. “But you have the right to squander me.” This is the triumph of the cross: the lived witness of the God who squanders Himself, who abandons infinity to be affixed to a piece of wood by His own creatures. And so gives us a glimpse of the infinite power of love and generosity. It's a power we too can wield, as my friend did in his generous self-gift for other people's children. Once we start to perceive it, we might find it's far more common than we suspect. All round us and within us. Giving us life. Helping us become better, bigger, more human, more God-like. Feast of the Triumph of the Cross, Sept. 14.

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 [email protected]. I would be happy to hear from you.