I'm high.
No, it's not what you're thinking. I am on a "Jesus high." Or at least I was when I returned from Lifeteen's Camp Hidden Lake two weeks ago. We had a blast: Mass every day, two hours a day for Confessions, a Eucharistic procession, and Lectio Divina in addition to an obstacle course, our own lake, tubing on a river, team-building on high and low ropes courses, and messy games. With guidance from college student summer missionaries, our youth group grew closer to one another and especially to God. It was a life-changing experience for all of us. At least for a week or so.
When you come home from a high-octane religious experience like a Lifeteen Camp, a Steubenville Conference, or even a World Youth Day, a lot of people have this euphoric "Jesus high." After feeling the presence of God with hundreds or even thousands of other faithful, you feel ready to take on the world and all of its challenges, to give your life to God.
But the thing about a high is that it doesn't last. I should know. I've been to seven Lifeteen Camps, three Steubenville Conferences, and a bunch of other retreats with my local parish. Pretty much every time, I come home with the bravado and fervor of a "Jesus high." I'll make huge changes to my faith life. But then a week later, I'm back to where I was before the retreat. Often it's when I first really begin to struggle with temptation or something unexpected happens in my life.
We see this a lot in the Bible. The Hebrew people were enthusiastic about Moses leading them out of slavery, but lost their faith as soon as they felt the first pangs of hunger. After Jesus multiplied the loaves and fish to feed the five thousand, the crowd was understandably excited. This Man can get us all the food we could ever want, they must have thought. They said "This is truly the Prophet the one who is to come into the world" (John 6:14) and even tried to carry Jesus off to crown Him their king. They followed Him across the sea of Galilee when He left with His disciples. Surely these men and women, so on fire with enthusiasm for Christ, will go out and proclaim the Good News. This must have been the early Church, right?
But Jesus followed the feeding of the five thousand with what is known as the Bread of Life Discourse. He spoke of "the food that endures for eternal life" (John 6:27) which is in fact Himself. The crowd was confused. They were expecting some sort of earthly food that would fulfill all their hungers, a political philosophy that will free them from Roman oppression and enrich their poverty. Instead, Jesus said "Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life and I will raise him on the last day" (John 6:54). Rather than accept the Truth, even though it is hard, "many of his disciples returned to their former way of life and no longer accompanied him" (John 6:66). Their faith had no endurance.
So many times, after coming back from an awesome retreat, I become like the crowd. When the Eucharist is enthroned in the Monstrance right in front of me and all of my friends are at my side and the beautiful praise and worship music is blasting, I feel ready to give my life to God, no matter the consequences. Everything is right there, I can see it - Christ has just fed an immense crowd with almost no food. But then I come home and things start to get difficult. When I'm in school it's hard to remember how I felt on retreat. I return to my "former way of life" all too easily.
And I can't accept this dichotomy. Every time I try to get comfortable with acting like a Christian only when I'm on retreat and assuming that will be good enough, I am reminded of Christ's warning: "Not everyone who says to me 'Lord, Lord' will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven" (Matthew 7:21). When I am on retreat, I am saying "Lord, Lord" because it's easy, it's what everyone else is doing. But then I all too often fail to follow the will of God when it's not what everyone else is doing.
This is a problem for the Church as a whole. We leave treat Christ like a box to be checked off our schedules, a life of holiness as something only to be lived on Sundays and retreats. We say 'Lord, Lord' but then fail to protect the poor, the suffering, the unborn. We fail to defend Truth outside of the physical building of our parish and allow poisonous ideologies like gender fluidity to spread and threaten our children. Cardinal Robert Sarah writes that "The Church can no longer go on as though the reality did not exist; she can no longer be content with ephemeral enthusiasm that lasts for the duration of major meetings or liturgical gatherings, as beautiful and rich as they may be" (God or Nothing, p. 174).
This does not mean that youth retreats like those put on by Lifeteen or Steubenville are useless. Quite the opposite: I would not be half the Catholic I am today if I hadn't gone on my first retreat. Lifeteen's Camp Covecrest brought me back to Confession and introduced me to Eucharistic Adoration, something that simply wasn't big in my old parish at the time. It taught me the value of brotherhood and how to treat my sisters with dignity and respect.
The only thing I am condemning here is my approach to taking the fervor and devotion I felt on retreat back home with me, my failure to keep the fire burning.
What I have learned is that if you really want to change your life after a retreat, you have to do something concrete, consistent, and with the support of a community.
The worst thing that you can do after a retreat is to make a vague resolution: "I want to be more holy" or "I'm going to try to pray more." You might as well have just said you're not going to do anything different at all, the end result is the same. If all you are trying to do is "pray more," you might end up saying the Rosary for the first couple of days. But as soon as you stop feeling the "Jesus high," you won't feel like praying when it's so much easier to scroll through Instagram. The Rosary will become a decade, which will turn into a single Hail Mary, until you aren't praying at all.
That is why you must resolve to do something that is concrete. Instead of saying you'll "pray more," say you'll read the Bible for five minutes every day, or that you'll go to Daily Mass once a week. These are real resolutions. They might be hard to keep at first once the "Jesus high" goes away, but you will have something specific that you promised yourself you would do. It is easier to remain constant when you know exactly what you should be doing.
And that brings me to my second point: consistency. Once you have something you've decided to do, make sure you do it often! I find that it's easiest to stay consistent if you give yourself a definite timeline. So "I'll read the Bible for five minutes" becomes "When I wake up, I'll read the Bible for five minutes" and "going to Daily Mass every once and a while" becomes "going to Daily Mass every Tuesday."
Finally, consistently doing something concrete is much easier when you have a community that supports you. Accountability is a huge part of taking the devotion of a retreat and bringing it home. You're no longer just disappointing yourself when you neglect your resolutions, now you're letting down your brothers and sisters. It's a big change in dynamic. With community, you help each other to grow in holiness. You remind people of their commitments and ask for their prayers when you yourself begin to struggle.
Concreteness, consistency, and community are what help you to form habits that will lead you into an ever-closer relationship with God. Once you've established that habit, you won't need enthusiasm or a "Jesus high" to remain constant in your faith.
Being Christian does not begin and end with retreats. They ought not to be a "safe place" where you can actually live out your faith but instead tools that will "recharge your spiritual batteries" and inspire you to advance in holiness.
Don't only let your light shine when you're on retreat. Keep that flame burning bright and carry it home with you so that you can set the world on fire!
DEUS VULT!
