Witnessing Hope In Emily Byers

When I finally met Emily, I could tell in an instant that I was in contact with a holy and beautiful person. I believe my exact expression was: ‘She just radiates light!’ She radiates with the light of joy, the light of clarity, the light of wisdom: ultimately the light of Christ. Her love and zeal for souls emanates from her, and when I think of Emily Byers, the words that come to my mind are the words of a prayer I learned from the Missionaries of Charity: “Shine through us, and be so in us that every soul we come in contact with may feel Your presence in our soul. Let them look up and see no longer us, but only Jesus. Stay with us and then we shall begin to shine as You shine, so to shine as to be a light to others. The light, O Jesus, will be all from You; none of it will be ours. It will be You, shining on others through us.” - Angela Miceli, Parousian Leadership Council

Everybody has something to say about Emily Byers. Some call her preachy, radical, naive, and intolerant. A few have called her LSU's Ann Coulter in spite of her love of illegal immigrants and her willingness to quote George Clooney in a piece against the genocide in Darfur. On the other hand, Catholic blogger Mark Shea has called her "hope for the future." Baton Rouge pro-life leader Julie Orr calls her "courageous, faith-filled, and talented." Parousian Jim Fontaine calls her a "warrior."

And then there's that quote from Angela Miceli. That's the Emily Byers that I think I know, but I'm not really sure I know her. In fairness, I know her pretty well, but then again, no.

She plays Jiminy Cricket to my Pinocchio quite a bit, except she resists telling me to let my conscience be my guide. No, she reminds me in those instances that this would be a situation where Father Bryce Sibley would call my conscience poorly formed.

And when she's not Jiminy Cricket, she's a little bit of a Blue Fairy, showing us life when we're a little bit fake, still holding out hope that we might miraculously become real boys and girls instead of the puppets of the culture who keep getting tied up in the strings of our passions. The Blue Fairy imagery works pretty well. Last December during exam week Emily was sitting in Christ the King in the middle of the night studying, all wrapped up from head to toe in a bright blue blanket, her face and a few locks of hair revealed with their familiar shine. Blue and shiny, very Marian, and Emily is Our Mother's daughter.

But I called that shine familiar, and it is because I have gotten to see it more times than many, more times than I deserve, always getting convicted by it because no matter how familiar it is, it ain't anything I really know, at least not as well as she does. I mean I thought I knew it, but since I've known her, and I'm not sure that I really do know her, I don't know if I can say I know anything about really knowing God, because in kind of knowing her, I know she knows God's love in ways I haven't yet, and she hasn't given up hope on me getting there.

And if it sounds like I'm getting tongue-tied talking about Emily, I'm not the first guy to do so. And lest you think I'm crushing, I am actively rooting for God to call her to religious life, because the thought of her becoming a nun is the most beautiful thing I have ever thought of, and if she never becomes a nun, the thought of her is still in the running for the most beautiful thing I ever thought. And if I sound a little confused, please know that I am. Confused, but in awe, lost in wonder.

Julie Orr is always praising Emily's clarity in defending the common sense principles that our culture cannot see. But the more I know Emily, as much as I see that shine, the less I see clarity and the more I see mystery, and I can't help but wonder what is God doing in front of my eyes. Sacramental vision is what the Parousian aims for in looking at the world, looking at life, looking at our friends, finding that mystery of grace at work in tangible ways. Some times we have to work for it, but when Emily Byers is tending to our concerns and when we are thinking about Emily Byers, sacramental vision seems to come naturally.

I see that mystery, and then the clarity again, that mystery of grace and the clarity of Christ co-existing - they're both so noticeable whenever Emily's around.

Emily's columns have been the source for debate and dialogue between the Parousians and the campus at large, but Emily the missionary, the consoler, the encourager, the champion of the unloved, the girl in discernment, the woman at prayer, is a signpost for every lost little bit of us, the most pleasant contradiction I have ever known.

She goes to confession, so I know she's no angel, and we only joke about her starting to levitate when she prays too long, but nobody's joking about that shine. Emily Byers really has brought the light of Christ to LSU, and that's nothing short of miraculous. I thank God for knowing her, sorta.