A Saint Like Me?

During the summer, life tends to slow down a little bit. (Though, admittedly, the to-do list for preparing for next school year keeps growing at the admin level.) Still, without the hustle and bustle of the students, parents, and teachers throughout our building, the pace is slower, the mornings are less rushed, and the work hours are, for the most part, shorter.

At least for me, with slowing down comes more time for quiet and reflection. Quiet time is usually a welcome thing, but sometimes it can bring a lot of thoughts, emotions, etc. to the surface, causing normal thoughts for the tasks at hand to be interrupted. In the words of a friend I recently spoke to about having silent time in the car, he said, "Ain't nobody wanna be in there. There's too much going on!" Um...same.

My thoughts have recently been vocational in nature - as in, I have no clue what I'm supposed to do with my life. (Well, that's a little dramatic - I guess I have some clue, as I definitely feel called to this whole Catholic education thing.) But even within Catholic education, what mark am I supposed to make? Am I doing everything I can with what I have to advance the Kingdom of God in the here and now? Am I meant for the single life, or is the good Catholic man I've been praying for going to enter my life at some point in the near future? (I could keep on listing the questions swirling around in my head, but I think this glimpse gives you the idea.)

In life, God tells us to be patient. And that's hard to do, as it's more about trust than patience, IMHO. What's also difficult (yet, I guess you could say freeing at the same time) is there are so many examples and models of how to live the faith. And, as any teacher can tell you, choice is good...until you are overwhelmed by too many of them. Such is how I feel with the Saints. But I was reading an article in the Salesian magazine a few days ago, and one of the things the sister writing the article said stuck out to me: "God knows the world needs a Saint like you, too."

And it's true. God doesn't need another Mother Teresa or Thomas Aquinas, a Therese of Lisieux or an Ignatius of Loyola. He needs us - in all of our brokenness, with all of our gifts. And that is a beautiful thought! So as the pace stays slower (at least for the immediate future), I'm going to take comfort in that. I may not know the road ahead, but I need to trust that God will guide my footsteps.

I hope you take some time to relax and reflect this summer too. And keep fighting the good fight because the world needs a Saint like you, too.

Be Prepared...Or Be Early Enough to Fix It...

Prepared.

That's definitely a word to describe me. Yep. Ask any of my friends of coworkers. While I tend to also be on the impulsive side, I'm still prepared for whatever that impulsive event or whatever is. I'm a list-maker, a check-your-bags-three-times-er, a how-many-times-can-I-check-this-email-before-sending-it-er.

Rewind to this past Thursday night. Two of my friends and I were going to see "Six" at the Chicago Shakespeare Theater. I got to Navy Pier around 4pm (which was about 3 hours before I needed to be there), having gone there straight from work. (Let's face it, Lakeshore Drive is always backed up no matter what time of day, so it's nice to sometimes have an excuse to avoid it.) It was a gorgeous day, though a little on the cool side... I definitely took advantage of walking around outside for a bit:

I had to wait until 7pm for the Box Office to open; that's where I was supposed to pick up our tickets. When they finally opened the doors, they couldn't find tickets under my name...or my email address...or my physical address...

Hmm...

I swore I had purchased them...but it turns out I wasn't as prepared for the show as I thought. I must not have actually clicked through to my cart when I was trying to buy them back in April.

Considering the website had indicated the show was sold out for that night, I thought I was done for. I texted my friends that I had made a mistake and not actually purchased the tickets.

But then the woman told me she could get two seats together and a third one up a bit further - and all of the seats would be on the first level.

(YES!)

Lesson learned: Be prepared...or be early so you can fix anything you weren't prepared for.

What a great night - the show was phenomenal; I highly recommend it. (In fact, I talked my sister into going at the end of the month...and each of my friends is going again at another time too.)

There's nothing like summer in the city.

P.S. Made it out to Millennium Park last night for their summer movie series...another gorgeous night, another beautiful skyline...

Go Forth! It's all about the exit...

Last night I witnessed the graduation of my students from my previous school whom I taught in 6th and 7th grade for religion and advisory. They are a great group of young people, and at Mass last night, I was so proud of them...and I also realized how much I had missed them and their families (and my coworkers).

Last night was made even more special, as I was invited to be the class's commencement speaker - the students vote to bring back a teacher (who no longer works at the school) each year, and I apparently made the top of their list. I was honored and humbled, and, while I taught in front of them every day for two years, I struggled at first with what to say to them (and their parents) for their graduation.

Thank goodness for the Holy Spirit and for a good friend at Clement who originally shared with me the homily of the exit sign just over a year ago in a small group for Lent. That story impacted me very much, and the idea of taking our faith out into the world has truly resonated with me, and it seemed like the perfect fit for a graduation.

As I gave the speech, I tried to look out into the eyes of my students as well as to the parents. Afterwards one student even asked if I memorized my speech (as apparently it didn't even look like I was using notes - I guess I surprised even myself!). Many parents and students came up to hug me and affirm both the speech and my time with their children - their kind words meant a lot. A grandparent of a student told me, "You have a rich life." Indeed I do.

I have included the text of my speech below (though, I did add a few impromptu things in last night that aren't reflected here) - I believe everyone would benefit from reflecting on the importance of the exit sign for our faith and for our lives -->


When Mrs. Hill called to invite me to be your commencement speaker, one of the first things I did was text my family. They know how much you all and ICSJ have meant and still mean to me, so I knew they would want to know I would be celebrating this special evening with you. Now, I’m sure I have shared stories about my dad before, but what I might not have told you is that my dad is quite the public speaker himself, so I told him I might be coming to him for some good ideas to share with you tonight, to which he replied, “Kel (because he doesn't call me Miss Foyle), I’ll give you as much perspiration as possible. LOL.” It should be noted that my dad has yet to use an emoji in a text message; otherwise, I imagine it would have been the winky face one. Or the crying laughing one. Perspiration...thanks for your help, Dad. I guess that was a gentle hint from him that he had faith I could handle this one on my own.

In all seriousness, in the past few weeks I’ve spent quite a bit of time thinking about all of you, of your teachers, and of all of the wonderful things that make ICSJ such a special place...the things that made our classroom a special place… And the truth is, I’ve missed you. I’ve missed your smiles and hugs every day, how you used to tackle each other to be altar servers. I’ve missed the crumpled up balls of aluminum with notes that say “Miss Foil...get it?” (In my next life, I’m changing my name.) I’ve missed the creative projects you made, my favorite one of all-time probably being Michael’s infomercial, where he gave one of the best similes about Lent I had ever heard - “Lent cleans up your life like Oxiclean cleans up your clothes.” Your questions in religion class were deep, and your enthusiasm and energy never wavered. I will never forget the Christmas carol where you set my name to the tune of Jingle Bells nor how several of you remembered my birthday this year and emailed me. You are an incredible group of young men and women, and, more importantly, you are incredibly kind. All of us gathered here tonight love you very much.

Now, by inviting back your previous religion teacher, you knew you wouldn’t get away without us spending at least a little time talking about our faith, right? I mean, as much as I love college basketball, I’m not going to go with the sports-life metaphors tonight, sorry. I actually want to share a piece of wisdom with you that I first heard in a homily at a school Mass one time. The priest had finished reading the Gospel, and he came down in front of the students, and he asked them this question: “What is the most important thing in this church?” The students thought about it for a little bit, and then slowly but surely they started to raise their hands. He called on one girl. “The Eucharist,” she said. (That would have been a Miss Foyle-approved answer.) The priest nodded but kept asking. Another student said “the people.” He continued to ask a few more students whose answers varied, but he didn’t get the answer he thought was the correct one. So, finally, when they had pretty much exhausted every possible answer, he looked at them, and he pointed...to the exit sign.

You might be sitting there thinking, “Miss Foyle, you’re crazy! You told us the Eucharist is the source and summit of our faith.” Why yes, I did teach you that...I’m so glad you remembered. But let’s think about it - the exit sign. We come to Mass to be nourished in mind by the Word of God, in spirit by community with others, and in body by the bread that we receive. We come to Mass to worship God and to grow in holiness. But it’s not enough that we do these things within the church walls. At the end of Mass, the priest literally sends us forth from the church to take what we’ve learned and celebrated in this building and be that for others in the world. Our faith is meant to be a lived one...once we have exited the building.

The exit sign, therefore, reminds us that our lives are not about us. WE are the Body of Christ; we are bread for the world. Everything we learned together in religion class and at Mass means nothing unless that’s how you choose to live your daily life - unless you act with kindness and compassion toward others, you serve those in need, you respect your parents, you continue to inform your conscience, you spend time in prayer, you see Jesus in others, and you are Jesus for others.

And tonight, on your graduation, the exit sign holds true for your education as well, as you have now walked through the doors of ICSJ for the last time as students. In your caps and gowns, with your diplomas in hand, we will be sending you forth from ICSJ on to Loyola, Ignatius, DePaul College Prep, Whitney Young, Walter Payton, and other great schools all around our city with confidence that you will excel. As graduates of ICSJ, don’t forget the lessons you learned here - how to think critically, how to thoughtfully and thoroughly support your argument in an essay or debate, how to build the Colosseum out of popsicle sticks (who knows, you might have to help your own kids one day with that one), how to listen, how to be a good friend, how to stay organized… The challenge will be to use these skills and lessons to help you continue to be your best self as lifelong learners and to help your peers along the way too. As your teachers, as your parents, this is one of the most important things we can wish for you - that when you exit ICSJ as graduates you remember who you are, and who you will one day be, as scholars, as leaders, and as children of God. So, as you go through high school, college, and beyond, stop and ask yourself from time to time if you’re using what you’ve learned and the gifts God has given you for others and in order to make this world a better place.

You see, that exit sign is important. It is important tonight, and it is important as you continue your journey into new communities in a broader world. I believe that the priest was right. I challenge you to let that exit sign be a reminder of who you are in here (point to heart) and as motivation for who God is calling you to be out there. Congratulations Class of 2019. I love you. And in the words of St. Ignatius of Loyola, “Go forth and set the world on fire.”