WYD Sydney 2008

Pictures courtesy of the BBC website here. I like the one on the right. Only youth and the sheer exuberance of being young could come up with slogans like this!

I remember when in Manila in 1995 for the WYD celebrations there, where the local organisers had come up with the chant for the then Pope: "John Paul II - We Love You" was heard everywhere. Not to be outdone, the pontiff was quick to quip back, "John Paul II - He loves you too!". Sweet!

May the memories of these World Youth Days move us to "become the change that we wish to see in the world".

"You'll receive power" indeed.

WYD Sydney 2008 & Michel Quoist

Today July 15th. marks the beginning of the 23rd. World Youth Day celebrations in Sydney, Australia.

A week long affair, it's expected to draw a few hundred thousand youth in what has become the biggest mobilization of youth in the world. The WYD culminates on July 20th (the actual World Youth Day) with a Mass by Pope Benedict XIV. Began in 1986 by John Paul II, previous WYD celebrations have attracted millions of young people from all corners of the world.

The official world youth day website is a good place to check up on the events as they unfold. EWTN (Eternal Word Television Network), launched 26 years ago amidst much scepticism for the need of a Catholic media network is in Sydney too. In addition, the new Catholic social networking website, Xt3, is up and running. In its own words - "Whether you're coming to Sydney or not, this will connect you with everyone and everything you need. Xt3 – Bringing the Gospel of Christ into the Third Millennium and building a better world".

John Paul II's words continue to echo: "You young people have in a special way the task of witnessing today to the faith; the commitment to bring the Gospel of Christ into the third Christian Millennium, to build a new civilization"

Which leads me to a prayer by Michel Quoist, of a young person caught between his/her hopes, dreams, abilities and fears and the sheer responsibility that comes with this momentous task of witnessing to the world:

Help me to say "Yes"

I am afraid of saying 'yes' Lord. Will you take me? I am afraid of drawing the longer straw. I am afraid of signing my name to an unread agreement. I am afraid of the 'yes' that entails other 'yeses'. And yet, I am not at peace.

You pursue me, Lord, you besiege me.
I run after noise for fear of hearing you, but in a moment of silence, you slip through.
I turn from the road, for I have caught sight of you, but at the end of the path, you are there awaiting me. Where shall I hide? I meet you everywhere. Is it then impossible to escape you?

But I am afraid to say 'yes', Lord. I am afraid of putting my hand in yours, for you hold on to it. I am afraid of meeting your eyes, for you can win me. I am afraid of your demands for you are a jealous God. I am hemmed in, yet I hide. I am captured, yet I struggle, and I fight knowing that I am defeated.

For you are the stronger, Lord, you own the world and you take it from me. When I stretch out my hand to catch hold of people and things, they vanish before me. It's no fun, Lord, I can't keep anything for myself.

The flower I pick fades in my hands. My laugh freezes on my lips. The waltz I dance leaves me restless and uneasy. Everything seems empty. Everything seems hollow. You have made a desert around me. I am hungry and thirsty. And the whole world cannot satisfy me.

And yet, I loved you, Lord; what have I done to you? I worked for you; I gave myself for you. O great and terrible God, what more do you want?

Son, I want more for you and for the whole world.
Until now, you have planned your actions, but I have no need for them.
You have asked for my approval. you have asked for my support, you have wanted to interest me in your work. But don't you see, son, that you were reversing the roles? I have watched you, I have seen your goodwill, and I want more than you, now. You will no longer do your own works, but the will of your Father in Heaven.

Say 'yes', son.
I need your 'yes' as much as I needed Mary's 'yes' to come to earth.
For it is I who must do your work,
It is I who must live in your family,
It is I who must be in your neighbourhood, and not you.

For it is my look that penetrates, and not yours,
My words that carry weight, and not yours,
My life that transforms, and not yours.

Give all to me, abandon all to me.
I need your 'yes' to be united with you and to come down to earth,
I need your 'yes' to continue saving the world!

O Lord, I am afraid of your demands, but who can resist you?
That your Kingdom may come and not mine,
That your will be done and not mine,
Help me to say 'yes'.

My prayer: That out of the hundreds of thousands of young people who will throng to Sydney this year, a handful brave ones say 'yes', then the WYD has accomplished its mission. Amen.

Introducing Michel Quoist

My 7 year old son is responsible for this post! We had just got back from Mass around noon and had just settled in when my Ann, my wife, let out an anguished cry from Jonathan's (the brat!) room. Somehow, he and his cohorts had during their playtime, managed to break the non-reflective glass frame on one of her favourite pictures which had been tucked away in a carboard box away from preying fingers. This would not have been such a big issue had it not been for the fact that we had repeatedly reminded or rather "threatened!" him time and again not to meddle with such fragile stuff. How naive can we parents be! Well, to cut the story short, he was punished (no abuse took place, that's a statutory declaration) and Ann went back to her chores, and naturally I ended up at the computer. Usual, unexciting, Sunday. Until for some reason, I happened to pick up Michel Quoist's "Prayers of Life" masterpiece.

I can't remember who it was who introduced this particular book to me, but I suspect it was a young seminarian almost to become priest in South Perak, some 15-20 years ago. I remember though, being thoroughly captivated by it. Maybe it resonated so much with the way I was thinking, feeling, hoping, etc. So much so, it has become my favourite prayer book of all time. So, I thought, maybe I should put excerpts of it here so others too may discover its sheer beauty and poignancy. And so, here's the 1st installment - appropriately enough, on children! - brats, in other words. I'm sure you'll enjoy this:

I like youngsters

They brought children for him to touch; and the disciples scolded them for it. But when Jesus saw this he was indignant, and said to them, Let the children come to me; do not try to stop them; for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. I tell you, whoever does not accept the kingdom of God like a child will never enter it. (Mark 10, 13-15)

God says: I like youngsters. I want people to be like them. I don't like old people unless they are still children. I want only children in my kingdom; this has been decreed from the beginning of time.

Youngsters - twisted, humped, wrinkled, white-bearded - all kinds of youngsters, but youngsters.

There is no changing it, it has been decided, there is room for no one else. I like little children because my likeness has not yet been dulled in them. They have not botched my likeness, they are new, pure, without a blot, without a smear.

So, when I gently lean over them, I recognise myself in them. I like them because they are still growing, they are still improving. They are on the road. They are on their way.

But with grown ups, there is nothing to expect anymore. They will no longer grow up. They will no longer improve. They have come to a full stop.

It is disastrous. Grown ups think they have arrived.

I like youngsters because they are still struggling, because they are still sinning. Not because they sin - if you understand me - but because they know that they sin, and they say so, and they try not to sin anymore.

But I don't like grown-ups, they never harm anyone, they have nothing to reproach themselves for. I can't forgive them, I have nothing to forgive. It is a pity, because it's not true.

But above all, I like youngsters because of the look in their eyes. In their eyes I can read their age.

In my heaven, there will only be 5 year old eyes, for I know of nothing more beautiful than the pure eyes of a child. It is not surprising, for I live in children, and it is I who look out through their eyes.

When pure eyes meet yours, it is I who smile at you through the flesh. But, on the other hand, I know of nothing sadder than the lifeless eyes in the face of a child.

The windows are open but the house is empty. Two eyes are there but no light. And, saddened, I stand at the door, and wait in the cold and knock. I am eager to get in. And he, the child is alone. He fattens, he hardens, he dries up, he gets old. Poor old fellow!

Alleluia! Alleluia! Open, all of you, little old men!
It is I, your God, the Eternal, risen from the dead, coming to bring back to life the child in you.
Hurry! Now is the time. I am ready to give you again the beautiful face of a child....

For I love youngsters, and I want everyone to be like them.