This is What You Came For

I went on a retreat with 90+ people on it, most of whom were under the age of 18, most of whom I had never met before in my life.

Let’s just let that sink in. Me, surrounded by all these people in the middle of nowhere with no cell service so I can’t even pretend that I’m checking my messages. It sounds like an introvert nightmare, but it was nothing of the sort.

I wasn’t coerced. I didn’t feel like I was obliged to go. I voluntarily went on this trip. I wanted to go to the point that when there was a possibility of cancelling it because of bad weather conditions, I broke down and begged for it to still go on.

But my question was why? Why did I feel like it was so important to go on this particular trip? I came up with three different possible reasons.

1. The coordinator was one of my close friends, and I felt like I should help him.
2. Three kids from my parish were going and I wanted to support them so they would have a friendly face there.
3. I needed to get away.

I don’t doubt that to some extent these factors contributed into me getting into a car and heading to a camp in central Washington where the trees were tall and green and the snow was fresh and powdery. But the longer I stayed and more importantly, the longer I prayed, I realized what I came for.

On Saturday evening as I was writing in my trusty journal, an image of the Crucifixion came into my mind. We had just finished a beautiful prayer service with the teens that let many of us emotional and in tears. There was a lot of joy in the room, so I couldn’t understand why something as sorrowful as the Crucifixion was on my mind. Then I started to think of all the people who were present during Jesus’ passion:

Simon who helped Jesus carry his Cross, Veronica who wiped the face of Jesus, John, the beloved disciple who was at the foot of the Cross, the Good Thief who we know to be in paradise, Mary who received her son’s dead body.

As these faces crossed my mind, the phrase “This is what you came for” echoed in my mind. Whether they accompanied Jesus on the road to Calvary or stayed with him until the end, they weren’t just in the wrong place at the wrong time, witnessing a horrific moment in history. Their presence wasn’t a mistake. They were placed there for a reason. They were placed there to have an encounter with Christ. And I have to believe that after that encounter, their lives were forever changed.

I’m not much different.

I don’t equate the past three days with the Crucifixion, but I do know that the same Christ who forgave the thief and assured his place in heaven; the same Christ who said “This is your mother, mother this is your son,” was present with us at Lazy F Camp in Ellensburg.

An encounter with Christ: This is what I came for. Now that I’ve come back to my home, back to my parish, back to my daily routine, I can’t be the same. Because after encountering the savior of the world, who can?

I needed this retreat. God needed to take me out of my routine to speak to me, and He did. I, like the teens on this retreat, need to understand, though, that the retreat wasn’t the end. It was the beginning. Just as an army may have to retreat during a battle to regroup, they would be mistaken to think that the battle would be won while they were re-arming or getting rest. If the battle is to be won, they  have to go back out there and face the enemy with the hope that their retreat was sufficient preparation for what would be waiting for them. And after this retreat, after this encounter with Christ, this soldier has to believe that she is ready.