God and Goodness

A Journey of Prayer and Self-Discovery

During my time in Taize, I had a large realization about my life and the friendships I have made thus far in college. Almost every night, my group of fellow pilgrims would stay up discussing the events of the day. In the beginning, our relationships were relatively superficial; we did not know each other well, and we tiptoed around the generic questions about likes and dislikes, majors and minors, and extracurricular activities.

After spending so many hours together, our conversations opened up. Theology and morality became the focus of our questions. How do we live as Catholics and college students? What is most important in college relationships when the hookup culture of campuses is polar opposite of our faith? How do we navigate friendships with people who disagree with and discount our religious beliefs? How do we share our faith without imposing it on those around us? I found so much comfort in knowing that there were at least six other people who struggled with the issues that are so prevalent for me.

On the last night, as we reminisced about our days in Europe before our bittersweet goodbye, we talked about how hard it is to continue living as we did in Taize when we return to Los Angeles. In a quiet moment of realization, I was overcome with love and awe for these people around me, these humans who shared my faith and my experiences abroad. I expressed to the group that I simply did not have religious friends in my immediate friend group.

During the plane ride home, I thought more about this. Having spent my whole life in Catholic school, my closest friends have always been Christian. Of course, we always argued and discussed differences in opinions and beliefs, but the foundation of our belief in God supported our values and our lives. Although LMU is a Catholic school, I have a large group of good friends who are agnostic and atheist. Many of them are some of the best and most moral people I know, and they teach me to be a better Catholic everyday, even though they do not even know this.

However, when my friends encounter the tough spots of college - broken friendships, failed relationships, unfair professors, high stress levels, family problems, extreme homesickness - they sink into despair. If and when they turn to me for help, I am at a loss for words because I lean on God when faced with these monumental setbacks. If I try to offer them a faith-based solution, they discount my advice because they do not believe in the greater Purpose and Goodness I see in this world. On the other hand, if I try to extricate God from my advice, I cannot say anything that I truly believe in. Here lies my conundrum.

Since Taize, I have been praying for religious friends to support me in my effort to share my faith, but I have also been praying that my nonreligious friends see some sort of greater good in this life that gives them hope. As always, God answers my prayers in mysterious ways on a timeline that never aligns with my impatience, but I have already been to a Bible study that spoke to my soul, and I am so excited to have been invited to sing for multiple Easter services on campus. Lately, my nonreligious friends seem to have found some peace in their lives, and I pray that they will rest in that presence of the Spirit, even if they never know.

The Book of Judith is my favorite in the Bible. Judith, a widow, gains the trust of Holofernes, the Assyrian general who has conquered the Israelites. One night, in a drunken stupor, he tries to seduce Judith in his tent, and she decapitates him. The Assyrians flee, and the Israelites celebrate the strength of this widow, one of the lowliest members of social class at that time.

My favorite quote from Judith speaks of the goodness of God, something I hope to portray in my actions as I go about my life:

"You are the God of the lowly, helper of the oppressed, upholder of the weak, protector of the forsaken, savior of those without hope" (Judith 9:14)