Spirit and Truth came to Golden, Colorado after a series of encounters with Jesus Christ that included a St. Paul style meeting in which the result was a 3 day hospital stay. The journey consisted of constantly overcoming fears of public speaking, social anxiety, and general disciple-hiding-in-locked-room syndrome.
This journey is too long to mention in it's entirety, so I'll pick up at the first encounter with Christ at Spirit and Truth in the summer of 2004 in Atlanta, Georgia. Myself, Ryan Miles, and my best friend Henry Scott had just moved to Atlanta for a summer internship working underground construction. This was not an ordinary job and a completely new experience working in a 10 mile long future sewage tunnel underneath the Chattahoochee River. We had made the 2 day trek after the RMAC outdoor track and field championships ended where we both competed for the Colorado School of Mines team.
We had arrived at our apartment paid for by the company and got settled in before starting work the next day. We went to Mass and while there we picked up a monthly Archdiocese of Atlanta young adult ministry calendar. It seemed there were events nearly every night happening all over the city. If you ever have the opportunity to go to Atlanta then check out their young adult community at www.yam.org, they are incredible. But on the calendar we noticed one event that occurred at a few parishes every week throughout the month. The tag line for S&T read "Praise & worship with adoration in front of the Blessed Sacrament. Sharing, study, meditation, prayer and intercessions are also part of the mix. After S&T... dinner and fellowship." The nearest one to us was tomorrow night held at Kennesaw State University's Catholic Student Center, so we thought it'd be a great way to meet other Catholics our age in the area.
The night was scheduled to begin at 7pm, but because we got lost we didn't show up to the Catholic-converted house until about 7:15pm. We walked into the house and in what looked to be the living room there were about 25 college aged people, who paused from their conversation and turned their attention to us. We awkwardly introduced ourselves, and the leader inquired into what kind of deodorant we wore. After he explained that this was an opening question to get to know and be more comfortable with those you will be praying with. That had the direct opposite effect, and I felt very out of place in this circle as others shared their names and their choice under arm protection.
After a few minutes, we proceeded into the chapel, which appeared to be a converted 2-car garage. The room soon filled up to where it was standing, rather kneeling, room only. One of the guys had a guitar in the corner and started playing some praise and worship music. A little later, a few people with candles came into the room, trailed by the Franciscan priest carrying a large cross shaped gold trophy looking thing, called a monstrance, with a piece of bread on display that is the Blessed Sacrament in it. Later I came to believe that this piece of bread is truly the body, blood, soul, and divinity of our Savior Jesus Christ. But at that moment I just felt uncomfortable at not really knowing what was going on.
To give some background, over the past two years leading up to this moment my life had gradually changed directions. I had always grown up Catholic; I was an altar server, I went to Mass every Sunday and CCD every Wednesday even after confirmation. But when I left to college to study engineering and run cross country, I only went to Church when it was convenient. Only when I didn't have homework, didn't go on a Sunday long run, and the Simpsons didn't have a new episode. After all I didn't have a car and the nearest Church was about five miles away, so I could say I was trying to make it to Mass, but actually I didn't want to go, didn't think I needed to go.
But God always put people in my life to take care of me, call me to be better, and to introduce me to a love that I didn't know. So I soon found out that about my entire cross country team was Catholic, and about once a month they were able to talk me into going to Mass. That was Henry and his brother Grant that would consistently call me to go to Mass and other events. They didn't just take me to the local Catholic Church but to the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception in Denver. The church was beautiful and the music was great. The first time I went I met Archbishop Charles Chaput, briefly introducing myself on the way out of Mass. And it wasn't until a couple months before I returned with the Scott brothers, and when I shook Archbishop's hand he had remembered everything I had told him months earlier. This really caught me off-guard and intrigued me. That a man this powerful, that delivers an amazing homily, would remember my name and a brief ten second conversation we had while he meets thousands of people the same.
Before long I suddenly realized that Sunday Mass was my favorite time of the week. And soon my priorities started forming around this time. I began to learn more about Jesus and the Church that He founded and I soon started to thirst for truth. The summer of 2003 after my freshmen year at Mines, my roommate Ross had a powerful conversion experience at a Christian healing service where he was prayed over and was healed of chronic migraines. Although I was then going Mass every Sunday and getting excited about learning about the God of the universe, I was still drinking at times and generally living a non Christ-like life. But Ross's conversion was exactly what I needed to push me over the fence and really get on board to be a follower of Christ. And that small step towards Christ opened a flood of angels coming towards me to bring me to Christ quickly.
I was invited by Archbishop to attend the FOCUS national conference in January 2004, the first held in Denver. And that changed my life again. We got to be one of the first groups to pre-screen the Passion of the Christ, a movie I hadn't heard of, months before it hit theaters. Like others that would later view this film, this movie had a powerful affect on me. Jim Caviezel, the actor who played Christ, gave a gut-wrenching talk that moved me greatly. At this conference, I had discovered the sacrifice that Christ gave for us, to truly show us Love and that we are called to do the same.
So that next semester leading up to this summer in Atlanta, I grew a lot as a Christian excited about his faith. I also began to get comfortable again and some of the zeal of the grace I received at the FOCUS conference began to fade. And now in this small chapel I was experiencing something I had never experienced. I actually had no idea what was going on, and though I kind of liked it I wanted to leave right away. I was fairly new to praise and worship and this was actually my first time at adoration, something I had heard of but thought only old people went to. That time of adoration was only about 40 minutes but it seemed like it took forever. And I kept wondering what am I doing here on my knees, why don't I have the enthusiasm that these other people my age seem to have? When that time was finally over, we went out to eat at a local place and I found out that these people were actually quite normal despite being involved in the weird event that was Spirit and Truth before that.
I honestly didn't think we would ever go back, I didn't want to return, we can make friends elsewhere. But by the time the next Monday was there I was actually looking forward to going back and so was Henry. I actually wanted to go back, I felt drawn to this thing that made me feel so uncomfortable, so out of place. But I had really nowhere else to go, and those people weren't actually that weird. This next time when Jesus came out in that monstrance I felt more drawn to converse with him. It felt like the first conversation with someone who would later become a good friend, but at the time felt really funny and you're not quite sure you actually like this person. Someone who may have annoyed you when you just watched him act around others, but after talking with the person you realize this person isn't that bad. And we actually have a lot in common. That time of prayer went by so quickly, just like that whole summer. Now I had two favorite times of the week; Mass on Sunday and S&T on Monday.
When I returned to Colorado, I really wanted to have a Spirit and Truth or something like it in Denver. But after getting back into school and cross country this idea soon went to the back of my mind. But my faith in Christ didn't leave my mind, I still felt more drawn to Him and wanting to meet him in more places in my life. I was attending a couple bible studies and going to every Christian event I heard about. But in my mind I still had doubts that Christ and God was make believe and a pie in the sky. So I prayed a prayer that many people have probably prayed, one that I don't recommend to anyone, and it was answered in a way that put me in the hospital. The prayer was kind of like Jerry McGuire... God, Show me your Glory! And that is just what he did.
On Saturday, September 18th, 2004, I was in Lincoln, Nebraska for our first varsity cross country meet of the year. I was in pretty good shape, although my whole summer of training was at sea level in the hot climate of Atlanta. I had also decided that this race I would make my entire effort an offering of prayer. I began with the sign of the cross and said the Our Father, and planned to finish the race with "the Kingdom, the Power and the Glory are Yours now and forever." But I would never make it to the finish.
The first 6k of the 8k race I was running very comfortable, not laboring at all, feeling great in the best race of my life. Then we went into a downhill section through a thick group of trees, which should have been easy and a moment to recharge for the last section of the race. But I began to tire rapidly, my arms and legs became numb and I started to feel dizzy. I later read that dizziness is sometimes an attack from evil spirits, I'm not sure if that is true or if this is what I was beginning to experience; however, dizziness can be fairly common in long distance races. In about half a mile I went from feeling good to just stumbling along. I remember the nearly 400 runners passing me as I fell from top 20 to the bottom 20 in a half mile. I got a lot of encouragement as others, including my teammates went by. At about a half mile to the finish I finally collapsed.
At that moment I was frightened began praying silently to myself, but a few moments later I began to feel heavy again and started to black out. I told my parents to take me back to the trainer area, and I began praying the Hail Mary a loud. But I began to forget the prayer so I told my mom she must help me pray the Hail Mary. After a few minutes as I began to feel worse like I was going to die, I felt I needed more people to pray, so I started telling people around me to pray the Our Father. I couldn't remember the words to that either. I had a vision of my own funeral, the newspaper headlines saying "collegiate cross country runner proclaims Christ before dying of exhaustion." And then my mind went blank.
In the stillness and not knowing where I was at, I heard a voice say, "Do not fear, you will get through this, your mission will be to unite my Church." I looked up and that voice was coming from a silhouetted crucified man. And although my mind was blank, I knew that this man was real, that he walked this earth 2000 years ago, that most today don't believe he exists, and the ones that do are so divided. I don't know how to explain it, but it was a vision that was more real than real life. And then when he disappeared all hell broke loose on me.
I remember these attacks as a bad dream, not necessarily in chronological order, but when I woke up in the hospital bed with my parents there I confirmed the crazy stories. If you have seen the movie "The Exorcism of Emily Rose", that portrayed about exactly how I felt, I have trouble watching that movie to this day. I went through a series of illusions all threatening that everything would go black, that everything I saw in front of me would go black. I shouted a lot, so much so my friends that came to watch but didn't know of my collapse could hear me over a half mile away on the other side of the park. I ended up biting my mom so hard it drew blood, I punched my coach in the chest, and I threatened to punch a cop because he wasn't doing his job as there were elk loose in the park (I pointed at a large bronze statue in the park, which made most people laugh). When the ambulance finally came they brought a firetruck. It took 5 firefighters to put me on the stretcher and once I was in the ambulance I broke out of the straps and a few EMT's had to lay on me as a constraint until they could give me a shot that knocked me out. Remember I had collapsed from exhaustion after racing 7km 30 minutes prior. I woke up in the hospital and everything was normal except for the many bruises all over my body, only I would find this wasn't a dream, but an experience that would again change my life.
I spent three days in the hospital waiting for my blood tests to get below kidney failure levels; though the doctor said that probably any distance athlete after a race is brought to the hospital, they would have similar dangerous kidney failure indicating blood tests as well. I underwent 6 months of weekly visits to a specialist in Denver to investigate me physically and psychologically to clear me to run again. And after all those tests everything came back normally. I have not experienced anything like that since but it remains etched in my mind.
That incident gave me the shove I needed to bring S&T to the Denver area. I began by going to the Archdiocese and FOCUS to tell them that they should start this, to which I was told it needed to be done at the parish level. So I started going to different parishes telling them they should start this, to which I was usually told they didn't have the resources or they already had an adoration night once every month. Finally, sort of like St. Francis, I realized God was telling me to actually start it myself. This really frightened me, it was one thing to have a big internal experience, but now living it externally is different.
By that next summer of 2005 Spirit and Truth began at St. Joseph's in Golden, Colorado. Although, even after it began I cancelled for little reasons because of my fear for public speaking numerous times. If it wasn't for good friends talking me into not backing out of S&T on many occasions it definitely would have fizzled. Since then we've had many different people come and go. Different priests, different deacons, and times of no priests or deacons. There have been times where just 2 of us came. Times of new comers who show up once and never return. I even learned guitar to provide music when regular musicians were unavailable. And nearly every Thursday, whether I thought it was a burden or I looked forward to it the whole week, it always turned out to be a joy to attend.
Every Thursday night I have witnessed fruit being produced in so many ways. But right now as this school year comes to a close, it is amazing to see the abundance of graces pouring out on this group. So many friendships have been developed and strengthened here as well as more confidence in our abilities to relate with others, especially in zealous proclaiming of the Gospel. As long as the focus of this group stays centered around Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, we will continue to follow God's will.
A lot is missing in this brief history, and for my story it would take a large book to convey across the gist of my life after being affected by Christ and his Church. I have been blessed through great times, difficult times, and times of feeling alone. I have been blessed to travel around the world witnessing the Catholic Church across cultures and country lines. I have been blessed with athletic ability that I improved drastically to claim 3 All-American honors in my collegiate career. I have been blessed to meet my vocation in my beautiful fiancé Julianne.