My daughter, Henrietta, and I got back from the National Catholic Youth Conference on Sunday-- and we both agreed it was one of the most mind blowing experiences of either of our lives. I've been chipping away at this blog post since, and I've finally managed to wrap it up!
Fear, Uncertainty, Doubt: The Trip There
Neither of us had ever been on one of these trips before, and we both had a lot of fears going into it. For starters, we had a grueling day-long bus trip to get there; we had to share hotel rooms with others-- and speaking for myself, I snore and am very self conscious about keeping others awake; not to mention, we would have non-stop socialization for several days in a row-- and we're both introverts. Not only that, but I was going as a chaperone-- a responsibility I didn't take lightly, and which added pressure on me.
So we went
into this trip with trepidation. But nevertheless, Henrietta and I packed thoroughly beforehand, printed schedules in tow, and Ellyn dropped us off at the church in town at 4:00am for the bus to pick us and the rest of the group up. Before long, very cold and feeling more than a bit timid, our entire group loaded our luggage into the bottom of the bus when it arrived, and we boarded. Henrietta went towards the back with the rest of the kids, while I took the second seat from the front-- with our youth minister in front of me, and our pastor right behind. The other chaperones took the seats across the aisle from me.
Us chaperones got to talking-- and this was the start of a super strong bond that formed between us over the course of the trip.
Eventually our trip took us to a church in Wisconsin, where a Sacristan had graciously prepared Mass for us, on a pseudo-random Wednesday. Our Pastor, plus another Priest who was traveling with us, concelebrated the Mass in a very unusual round church, which had a hallway going all the way around it.
After Mass, we ate pizza, boarded the bus, and were back on our way!
The City, The Hotel, The Stadium
We took a bathroom break at this truly bizarre rest stop in Indiana, which clearly hadn't been redecorated since the 1970s-- and that's no exaggeration. It looked
exactly like the "liminal spaces" you'd see in things like The Backrooms: the bathroom had sinks from perhaps the 1960s; the tile was this ancient pale green and white checkerboard pattern; and the restroom
reaked like mold. Outside of the restroom, the place had 1970's style wood paneled walls, and several metal payphone benches, with the payphones ripped out. My photo truly does not do the place justice, but it gives you some idea.
Once we arrived in the city itself though, it was a different story! The place was a nice mix of new skyscrapers, beautiful old buildings, and lots of monuments.
The hotel itself was pretty dated, with peeling wallpaper and worn carpet. My roommate, Adam, is the Parish Administrator for the
other "Area Catholic Community" with whom we were traveling. In the first night, he told me his life story-- made himself very vulnerable. On a later night I shared
my story with
him. By the end of the trip we were fast friends.
Once we were checked in, we ate at a restaurant called "Buca di Beppo". The walls were
filled with extraordinary artwork, pictures of famous actors and actresses, plus crests of famed Italian football teams like Inter and Napoli. I didn't see a Lazio crest, but I wouldn't be surprised if there was one there. The place operates with
huge family portions for each table, where they deliver several dishes in succession, and the table shares. It ended with these absurdly huge chocolate chip cookies.

And this leads me to the first of NCYC's
many cultural elements: the clothespins.
At NCYC, kids draw or color on clothespins-- often writing Bible verses and other such messages on them. They then go around discretely clipping the pins to unsuspecting victim's hoods, backpacks, sleeves, or wherever else they can put them. I had my first exposure to this at Buca's: our Bishop was there, and he had on a suit coat-- which of course hanged down in the back. At one point, one of our girls walked by and had the audacity to
clip the bottom of the Bishop's coat.
All of the kids went, "Oooooooh, we see what you did!" The Bishop looked confused, and just kept talking. Soon, another kid went by-- and followed the first girl's lead. Then another kid. And another. Of
course the Bishop caught on at some point, but is one of the nicest people you'll ever meeting, so I'm certain he just played along. After maybe ten minutes, he had no fewer than fifteen clips hanging from his suit coat! Our pastor was sitting right next to me-- he leaned over to me and, pointing at the Bishop, quietly said "I hope he doesn't try to sit down."
After hanging out at the restaurant, we went into this awesome church which was just across the street from the convention center.

More NCYC Culture
We got back out into the brisk air of the streets, and it was then that I encountered more NCYC culture.
The tradition is that kids from each group-- and there were seventeen
thousand youth there, incidentally-- wore matching hoodies, so that they could stick together as teams. Further, many groups carry what I can best describe as
standards-- the big flags you see in the movies, in front of armies from medieval times. So picture groups of twenty-or-more kids, color-coordinated, marching behind a huge pole, eight feet in the air, with a pig in a cowboy hat at the top, or a giant unicorn head, or an oversized cheeseburger-- the standard bearer proudly leading the way. It was a sight to behold, all of these armies marching everywhere downtown!
To further my astonishment, the armies were all taking turns shouting at each other at the top of their lungs: "NC!!!" one group would say-- across the street, other groups would shout back: "YC!!!" And so the armies marched: "NC!", "YC!", "NC!", "YC!" People native to the city would stop, amazed-- probably wondering who the heck we were, and why we'd invaded the city!
At one point a Eucharistic Procession went past, with the incense and the big tent. All of the armies stopped, and knelt as Jesus passed by. I wouldn't be surprised if we converted bystanders to Catholicism right then and there, or at
least made them Catholic-curious: just by the sheer spectacle of it!
As we marched toward the venue-- the
gargantuan NFL "Lucas Oil Stadium", where the Indianapolis Colts play-- I got exposure to
another NCYC tradition: the hats.
You see, the kids at NCYC all wear hats. And we're not talking ordinary hats: we're talking about race car hats; construction hard hats; fuzzy rainbow hats with blinking lights; massive construction cone hats; even Bishop and Papal hats! But it's even more than that: kids constantly
trade hats! One time a guy walked up to a girl in front of me, and said matter-of-factly: "Would you be interested in trading your giraffe for a
cherry?", to which she calmly replied, "Yes-- yes I would." So she handed him her giraffe hat, and she took the cherry hat-- which fit over her head like a misshapen football helmet, with the stem sticking out on top!
Praise Worship
This was the first time of several where I cried during NCYC 25. We entered the inner sanctum of the stadium, and watched in awe as it filled to the brim with all 17,000 young people, in their color-coordinated hoodies, with their crazy hats, with their standards. A rock band started playing worship music-- the production values absolutely
off the charts.
As the band started playing, probably 3,000-- and I'm not exaggerating-- kids stormed up to the stage. And the lights danced. And the music played at a zillion decibel levels. What made me so emotional was, as Catholics, we often have the stereotype of being stodgy, and boring, and old-fashioned-- and maybe even a little sad, or forlorn. But
this was a whole side to the Catholic Church I had never seen before: one of energy, of youthfulness, of joy! Modern and rocking!
The kids all held up their phones, in flashlight mode. The stadium looked like it was filled with thousands of fireflies!
It was soon that I encountered
the song-- what wound up being the theme of the whole event for me-- "Praise". You can hear it
here. Except imagine a crowd a zillion times larger-- with literally
thousands of kids jumping up and down as high as they could, thousands and thousands of voices singing the unforgettable chorus, all in perfect sync! It was so emotionally overwhelming, the sheer sight and sound of it, that I'm getting emotional again just writing this paragraph, reflecting back on it.
There was another song, which I've been trying to find on YouTube, which wove the "Glory Be" into its lyrics-- that one was also sensational. But in any event, we then segued in to one speaker after another-- each one more amazing than the one before. Sensational!
The Convention Center
From there, the tens of thousands poured back out onto the streets, walking the very short trip to the convention center. There isn't as much to say about that-- lots of clothespinning, lots of hat trading, priests and religious brothers and sisters
everywhere, bishops walking around talking to everyone. Like most conferences, there were time-blocked breakout sessions, where you pick between one of several options for each slot.
Here are just a couple of the sessions I went to, just to paint the flavor: one was about the keys to discernment; the speaker gave us three questions to ask:
- What will it help? What will it hurt?
- Will it glorify God, or glorify me?
- What will be the fruit of this?
Another example: "God, is that you?"
- Our own thoughts are the more neutral ones.
- Fear, doubt, and insecurity come from the evil one.
- Peace, joy, and conviction come from God.
And that set the pattern for NCYC! It was a virtuous cycle of:
- Stadium: Insanely good praise music from major Christian artists, followed by speakers.
- Convention Center: Sessions, daily Mass, Confessions.
- Stadium: More praise music, speakers, just crazy atmosphere.
- Hotel: Bonding with the people you traveled with; room checks and bed time at midnight.
- Repeat: Up and at 'em at 6:00 for the next morning.
There was also a massive exhibit hall with booths.
At one point a woman was walking toward me: "Wow, she looks a
lot like Makayla", I was thinking to myself. Makayla is the incredible young woman who I "dotted line managed" as our church's Evangelization Coordinator over this past summer. As she got closer, I realized: "It
is Makayla!" She has given her entire life over the Lord, doing NET ministries, pouring herself out for youth, running retreats-- living on a bus, and sleeping on church floors. She was the last person I expected to see in Indianapolis, yet there she was! It turned out that NET had a booth there, and so she went!
We had such a nice conversation, it was so good to see her! She is one of the holiest people I know, and I always learn a lot when I talk to her.
Confession and God's Forgiveness
During one of the evening stadium sessions, they had this sister speak-- Sister Miriam. Apparently she's a major Catholic celebrity, but it was the first time I'd seen her.
Where the convention MCs and speakers tended towards volume and expression, Sister Miriam was different: she was quiet; peaceful; smiled a lot. She spoke softly to the 17,000 people there. She talked for maybe a half hour, maybe forty-five minutes-- I lost track. But in that time, she gave me the single greatest spiritual revelation I've ever received from another human being.
Soft music started playing. Sister Miriam had us close our eyes. She was so gentle... so soft... so kind. She spoke to us: told us to put out hands over our hearts. She told us to ask the Holy Spirit to visit us-- to come inside of us. She told us to then find the place within us, where there is no sin: the inner-most sanctum of our hearts. The place where we are at more most pure. The place where we can invite Jesus in, and just be with Him.
She told us to feel God's warmth. His love. His mercy. Then, to identify-- in the deepest of the depths of our hearts: what is our very greatest sin? What
truly pains us? What causes us
shame? What makes us feel
unlovable? She asked us: what were we feeling? What was it like? Then: Take that pain-- that shame, that blackness. And give it to Jesus. Just... hand it over to Him. All the weight. All the pain.
And that was it. The key. In that moment, God revealed to me what it is inside me that makes me shy. What makes me anxious. What keeps me separate from others-- always the barriers. Always the masks. Always the facades. Always the masquerading. The feeling of needing to escape from others.
Inside of me, there was this little locked metal chest I had never seen before. And when I tried to touch it-- tried to let Jesus inside, to open it for me-- I felt searing heat and pain. It was scalding hot. But He opened it anyway. And I finally, after all of these decades, got to see what was hidden within. And I cried. And cried. And cried. I looked up at the lights, listening to Sister Miriam's voice. And I felt God reach out and touch my heart. He told me He loved me.
Sister Miriam: "Now I want you to all go to Confession. Many of you have some dark, dark secrets inside of you. It's time to let those go, and be healed."
Many of our youth went to Confession at that time-- and came back sobbing. Tears pouring down their faces. Tears of joy. Of relief. Of happiness. The girls all hugged each other, and raised their hands in unison. Together. Towards God. Towards our Lord and Saviour. And they believed.
They were finally free.
The Pope Speaks!
During one of the stadium sessions, they
live-streamed Pope Leo onto a massive screen on the stage-- again, production values off the chart! I won't repeat what he said, because you can quite literally watch the whole thing on YouTube. But my personal take was that it only reinforced everything I've already thought about him-- he has absolutely zero pretenses or ego!
At a couple of points he was uncertain about different things, such as when the stream was going to cut off at the end-- and he made not even a single attempt to mask, or disguise his uncertainty. He's so
relatable! The moderator took a very familiar tone with him: at first I was squirming uncomfortably in my seat, but soon realized that it was intentional: Pope Leo prefers it that way! He seemed more comfortable conversing that way, and
less comfortable during the formalities.
While his prepared statements were filled with wisdom, I actually thought it was his off-the-cuff moments which were more interesting. The moderator snuck in a question at one point which was
not pre-delivered to him, and he was so thoughtful in his on-the-spot answer!
At the end of the session, they had us execute a White Sox-themed rally activity, which they'd had all of us practice before the livestream started. The moderator asked him: "We have a surprise gift for you! Are you ready?" His answer cracked me up: he chuckled, smiled, shifted in his chair a little uncomfortably, and said, "Well, I'll try to be!"
After all was done, the
Pope himself gave us the final blessing-- the one and the same you hear at the end of the Mass: "May almighty God bless you, the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit." It was unbelievably profound being blessed in that familiar way, but by the spiritual direct-line successor to Peter.
Adoration, Mass, and Closing
One of the nights all 17,000 of us prayed during adoration-- which was some spectacle:
And on the final night, the entire stadium participated in the Holy Mass-- a
two and a half hour Mass! But that's not the crazy part-- the crazy part was: during the opening procession, a
zillion men in albs entered. At first I thought those were the priests-- but then I noticed that they were wearing stoles: those were the
deacons!
Sure enough, there then followed an almost endless line of priests. Wow were there a lot of them-- sixty? More? But then the mind-blowing part: after them followed the
bishops, and there were probably two dozen of
them! In fact, there were so many bishops, that
they were the ones who concelebrated the Mass-- and the
altar servers were
priests!
Following the entire opening procession then, at the very tail, was the Archbishop. If you don't believe me, Henrietta snapped a picture to prove it! All of the men in white in the sanctuary are bishops-- the priests are way off to the right, and all of the men in front, where the chairs sit, are the deacons:
After Mass, right on the heels of the Archbishop processing out-- for the final time in the entire conference-- the band struck up "Praise!". Thousands of kids stormed the stage once again. One group has a giant inflatable palm tree, and as they were hopping up and down, they lost control of it-- it flipped over and wound up bouncing all over the place! Here it was much earlier, just so you can envision how goofy it looked. Henrietta and I cried, but this time out of laughter-- we hadn't laughed that hard in years!
The Aftermath: Tears and Total Transformation
I've cried so many times since returning home-- out of total joy. I feel like a completely different person coming out of NCYC 2025 than I did going in. And this has carried over into my workplace: instead of being shy or avoiding eye contact, or making non-commital, quick "heys" or nods towards people, I've been smiling and asking everyone how they are. And people are responding to it! They can feel my joy, and
several people have gone on to share details about their lives with me-- they've made themselves vulnerable.
I also want to call out that I established a super great comeraderie with the three boys who I was assigned to chaperone: I learned so much from them! During one of our nightly summaries, one of the boys shared that the highlight of his entire day was talking to me about the various ways to pray. The boys also thanked me afterwards for being such a chill, understanding chaperone-- I told them that they made it so easy for me, they are such great guys and they brought such joy into my life!
One of the highlights of the entire trip for me involved an afternoon Henrietta and I spent with an especially troubled youth. She was feeling misunderstood by everyone: the other kids, and even the adults. On the walk to the stadium on that final night, she poured out her heart to me as we lagged behind the group where no one could overhear her, telling me all her struggles with her family, in school, with her friends, and so forth. God bless her-- she just wanted someone to
listen without condemning or judging-- and God's grace put us both in that situation, so that I could be there for her when she needed it.
Henrietta and I are all ready to not just book our trip for 2027, but to bring Duncan and Ellyn with us!