Here's a summary of my time at the University of Minnesota.
Wednesday (5/5/10)
Remembering the words of Mother Theresa, "God has not called us to be successful, God has called us to be faithful.", I bundled up, grabbed my gear (there's more gear than you'd think), and made my way to my location on Northrup Mall. Rain was zig-zagging in the wind.
Like a good outdoors-man, I had a few layers of clothing. I was still a wee bit cold and the rain provided an additional chill but I knew adrenaline would soon take care of that. I deployed my porta-pulpit (thanks Jeff), laid out my gear (recorder, prayer cards, notes, etc.) said some final prayers, and surveyed the clouds. A clearing in the clouds was a minute away.
I thanked God for the timing, waited until it stopped, and boomed out my introduction. The gale force winds slammed my usually powerful voice to the ground like a whisper in a typhoon.
Most student shuffled by far too cold to pay much attention. A few slowed to behold the anomaly - though preachers are a common sight in the mall - my pulpit and crucifix garnered a second look
The topic was The Culture Of Life Vs The Culture Of Death. I began with my list of questions, cajoling the student to interact: "Joseph Stalin, ever ready with the one-liner (yes, he considered himself a funny guy) once said, 'A single death is a tragedy, a million deaths is a ... ' what?"
One of the shuffling students provided the correct answer, "Statistic!" I congratulated his knowledge but he was 50 feet away before I finished.
The skies began to darken and I wrapped up after 20 minutes.
You can't help scoring your efforts. The trick is to avoid presuming you know how God scores it. I try to look at the different dimensions of the experience: Fear and trepidation subjugation: 5 (I was a bit uncomfortable, but trusted God overall); Delivery: 3 (Choppy, disjointed, heavy - a bit like the weather); Overall value: 10 (Got the cobwebs out, stretched my vocal cords, reacquainted myself with the process, etc). Tomorrow I would do better - weather permitting.
Thursday (5/6/10)
After a morning at the coffee shop I got in my car and headed into town. No wind, intermittent sunshine. The weather was cooperating.
I stepped out of the Church Street Garage and the sun made a grand appearance. It was easy to imagine students lingering on a day like this.
Having broke the ice the day before, it was easier to focus less on myself and my message and more on the students. These were thousands of young people made in the image of God with limitless value and potential. I would remind them of that.
There's the moment when you walk past that first student on your way to the location. The student looks at the odd thing you're carrying. Did they decipher the Escher-like contraption, unfolding it in their mind into a device for street preaching? I chuckle to myself considering the oddity that is myself.
A began my setup routine. Unfolding porta-pulpit, holy card placement, giveaway placement (rosaries and holy cards for questions and answers), crucifix on front of pulpit for quick and easy identification, crucifix facing me for comfort and courage. I take my time. I consider the position of my pulpit desiring maximum affect. I make a significant change, pointing myself toward the stream of walking students. I'm aware that the volume of my voice may actually hurt the ears of passersby and determine to speak at three-quarter volume. I decide to ascend the pulpit and spend time organizing my notes and praying quietly from there, reasoning that it will indicate that I'm about to begin. As I look up to begin, a small crowd has gathered and I begin.
The topic is Love Vs Convenience, Marriage Vs Shacking Up. A group of young women chat in close proximity, occasionally glancing up as I quote peer-reviewed studies showing the significant down-sides of cohabiting. I decide to volley a question to them, asking them if they think shacking up is a good idea. They engage a few volleys and one of them walks away. I sense the topic hits a little close to home so I offer up a silent prayer.
Questions begin to be posed. A questioner asks about embryonic stem cell research. He wants to know if I approve. It's important to understand that the goal is not to satisfy the questioner but to use the questions as a way to teach the crowd. So I begin to break down the question.
"Is it a human life?" I ask the questioner. He's not interested in answering questions. I explain that when the 23 chromosomes from the mother join with the 23 chromosomes of the father a unique, individual human life is created. He's unfazed. He wants an up or down decision. I tell him I believe every human life from conception to natural death is sacred. The guy takes this as a yes and goes for the jugular,
"Do you have children?".
"yes."
"If your child has Hodgkin's Disease you wouldn't use embryonic stem cells to save him?" "No, that would be killing another human being to save my son's life." He's shaking his head in disgust.
I guess that one pushes a button. I feel defensiveness rising up. I tell him about the tainted research after WWII that the allies disposed of because the research had the blood of the Nazi victims on it. I'm talking faster than than I'm thinking. He starts walking away. I shout to him that we don't kill people so others can live. I'm right but I'm wrong. I turn to the crowd and tell them we need to go on to the next question. I've lost my cool but the crowd is unfazed. I guess they think it's part of the show. I regain my cool a few words into the next question, but in retrospect the guy had touched a nerve. I don't like choice he posed: My son or my God. Abraham had it rough on Horeb. God, keep my kids off the altar of science.
An hour or so of Q and A followed. A vaguely familiar face enters the crowd. Could it be? Four years ago a 17 year old kid with a penchant for Star Trek and buttons displaying his contempt for Christianity. My favorite (for novelty reasons) was the word Dogma with a red circle and a line drawn through it. He spent a good hour testing my metal. That exchange came to a head with me acknowledging the importance of his questions and the nobility of his quest. My response surprised him. I guess he saw us as arch-rivals and I saw him as a fellow seeker. I sensed his need for the approval of an older man. I imagined a father who was disapproving of his questions. He needed to know that God was good or he would have none of it. We shook hands and I asked him his name. I prayed for Ryan several times over the years when he came to mind.
The man now before me poses a question about God's omnipotence and the problem of evil. This guy's done his homework. He challenges my sloppy response. I refine my answer and mention the atheistic position. He defensively states that he didn't say he was an atheist. I confidently reply that I didn't say he was but was only contrasting my position. He agrees. We wrap up our interchange and he gets up to leave. I see the no dogma button pinned to his backpack.
"Ryan?"
"yes."
His voice conveys a tenderness and pleasure that he is recognized and remembered. I'm truly happy to see him.
Later I reflect on the likelihood of our encounter, the impression he made on me that I would remember his name, and the obvious providential nature of our two encounters.
Thank you God for prayers answered.
Resources for my talk on Cohabitation:
http://www.vatican.va/holy_father/paul_vi/encyclicals/documents/hf_p-vi_enc_25071968_humanae-vitae_en.html
http://www.virginia.edu/marriageproject/pdfs/NMP2008CohabitationReport.pdf
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