For ten years now, I’ve been entrusted with the preparation for Confirmation of the young people of our parish of the Annunciation, in the neighborhood of Serviten in Vienna. The number of confirmandi is always rather high, thanks to the presence of three schools close by, two of which are the schools where Giovanni Micco and I teach Religion. The kids return to the parish at 13 or 14 to attend a course of catechism, around seven years after their preparation for First Communion. It is a break during which most of them take a Religion course at school, which for decades have been delegated with the spiritual formation of Austrian Catholic children and young people. As such then, Confirmation represents for many of them the occasion to regain contact with the Christian life.
Two years ago, there were about forty kids, many of whom were not very interested in the faith and more attracted by spending time together chatting and laughing. During a weekend that we spent together with the confirmandi in a monastery on the banks of the Danube, not far from Vienna, we spoke with them of the search for meaning in life and of God. We always seek to make them reflection, to give space to the questions that they have within. In one of the proposed activities, they had to write on a sheet of paper what they wanted to ask God. On that occasion, many confided in us their most important desires. One of them wrote, “I don’t ask anything of God because I don’t think God exists.” A catechist passed this along to me. This young man -let’s call him Thomas- did not participate in the lessons of Religion at school but had enrolled in the course of Ethics. Together with the other educators, we asked ourselves what he was doing in a group preparing for Confirmation.
The how and the when are not in our hands. Surely, I have understood that it can happen to anyone
A few weeks after, I met him in the hallway of the school and we had a brief dialogue: “Thomas, I don’t pretend that you already have clear ideas on God and on your faith,” I said to him. “You can still participate in the catechism. The important thing is that you truly commit yourself to the proposal that we are making and that you participate with openness in the possibility of discovering that God really exists and that faith is something for you.”
Months pass and Thomas is always present at the meetings. The relationship with the group, so large and diverse, is not always easy. Thinking about some of these kids, we often wonder why they come. Others, however, are clearly interested. Of all the things that we do together, the most striking for them are the testimonies of young people, especially college students, whom we have invited to tell about the relationship they live with the different aspects of faith. At the end of the year they all receive confirmation, administered by the abbot of the Benedictine monastery near our parish.
After the summer, school starts again. One Sunday Giovanni, who usually celebrates Mass at 10 in the morning, stops me in the hallway. “Matteo,” he says to me. ”For the past few weeks in church I always see a boy sitting in the second row. He must be fifteen years old. It’s strange, because he comes alone and always sits in the usual place. Do you know who he is?” I rack my brain and think of the boys who have passed through the parish in recent years who might come to Mass regularly, but the description does not fit. One of the next Sundays, I happen to be celebrating Mass at 10 together with Giovanni. Then I see him, there in the second row: to my amazement I recognize Thomas, the one who didn’t even believe in God. Now he comes to mass by himself every Sunday and often also participates in the initiatives of GS, the youth group of the Communion and Liberation movement that has recently been established in Vienna as well.
We do not know what moves in the hearts of these young people. We can offer them occasions to approach God and allow them to encounter Him. The how and the when are not in our hands. Surely, I have understood that it can happen to anyone, that it is always possible.