During a time of life when conformity rules, these youths dare to be openly religious.

08:24 AM EDT on Monday, August 2, 2004

BY MICHAEL CORKERY
Journal Staff Writer

ATTLEBORO -- Under a white circus-size tent on a sparkling Sunday morning in July, more than 1,000 teenage boys gathered for a talk called "Every Man's Battle."

At first, the boys addressed topics one might expect at such a large pubescent powwow.

They laughed about the joys of bellybutton sweat and the female fascination with shoes. They cheered when the speaker, a young man in flip-flops, with doubled pierced ears, named Righteous B, said the last romantic movie he had watched was Braveheart.

But amid all the chanting and locker-room humor, the boys got serious and talked about their struggle to follow Jesus. When it was over, they took a card that contained a pledge not to have sex until they marry.

Philip "P.J." Shea, 18, of Pawtucket, has signed four such "chastity cards" over the years.

Journal photo / Ruben W. Perez Shannon Hennigan, 17, of Pawtucket, sings during Mass at a recent two-day Catholic youth conference at LaSalette Shrine.

He plans to keep this most recent card locked in a safe in his bedroom. "I made a promise to myself that I would stay a virgin until I'm married," Shea said.

Some of his high school friends don't get it. Shea doesn't care. What's important is that most of the boys under that tent understood the need to fight the temptations of alcohol, pornography, premarital sex and all the other "lies the devil whispers," as Righteous B put it.

Welcome to Steubenville East, a two-day Catholic youth conference at LaSalette Shrine.

The teens came from as far away as Maryland and from nearby Pawtucket, numbering more than 2,700, wearing T-shirts, body art and baseball caps and looking very much a cross section of American youth.

But many of these teens are different. They define themselves, not by their tattoos or nose rings, but by daring, they say, to do what is considered in many high schools to be unequivocally uncool: Being openly religious.

"Kids don't respect it," said Shana Girouard, 15, of Pawtucket. "Everyone is so afraid to talk about religion in school so I've learned not to talk about it.

"I am follower. I admit it. I buy the most expensive sneakers," she said pointing to her pink-striped Adidas. "But this group understands. I don't have to hide that I'm Catholic."

The message of the two-day conference, conveyed in seminars and prayer sessions, implored the teens to stand apart from a society that glorifies sex, parties and cynicism.

And the organizers urged participants not to be afraid to wear their Catholicism on their sleeves by praying, singing and buying T-shirts, with slogans such as "Rise Up" and "Catholicism is not a Spectator Sport."

During the men's talk, Righteous B told the boys to become "warriors" who roar about the virtues of Jesus Christ.

"Let's pray so hard that this tent falls down," yelled Righteous B, whose real name is Bob Lesnefsky and has a degree in theology from Franciscan University in Steubenville, Ohio. According to the conference brochure, Lesnefsky has three "ghetto-fabulous childs" with his "long-time shorty Kate," his wife.

Together, the entire tent belted out the rosary, like a football team about to take the field. Lesnefsky held up a folding chair and shook it in the air as they prayed.

He asked the group to talk about their greatest challenges.

"I am just afraid I'm going to grow up to treat my wife the way my father treats my mother," said one boy in the back of the tent. "I feel like there is no escape. But last night I turned to Jesus."

Another boy, his voice squeaking in transition, said, "A lot of times I feel alone and I feel I'm not going to end up with a family like you."

Lesnefsky told the boys they should find a friend with whom they can pray and fight the temptations together.

"When you stood up for Jesus Christ, you signed for the army," he said. "You are going out to battle."

Shea turned to God recently when he was rejected from the college he wanted to attend. He considered taking a year off or enrolling in the Community College of Rhode Island in the fall. He prayed for an answer. "I realized I should push through," he said. Shea plans to attend CCRI in the fall.

"It's more than just praying. It's looking through the Bible," Shea said. "Psalms are like my best friend. There is always something in there."

Shea said he fights many challenges to being religious at 18. "It's wanting to be like any other high school grad in the summmer; there are girls, friends," Shea said.

This was Shea's second trip to Steubenville East with his youth group from St. Teresa's parish in Pawtucket. Shea said he first became involved in the youth group because he needed to fill hours to make his confirmation.

"I needed something to do," he said. But when he went on a retreat organized by the Diocese of Providence and attended his first SteubenvilleEast conference last summer, his faith deepened. Shea said he might want to become a deacon one day.

Many described the weekend as a life-altering experience. One girl said that during the Eucharist Adoration, the teens would laugh, cry and speak in tongues.

At one moment, during Righteous B's lecture, a group of teenages knelt in the grass and put their heads on the ground. The rapper himself lay on the ground, with his face in the grass.

"It becomes an insatiable hunger for the love of Christ," said Geoff Edwards of Bow, N.H. "You can't get enough of it."

A stocky teen with a surfer's air, Edwards said he has been religious since he was a child. He said some people tease him about being religious. "But it's nothing compared to the suffering that Jesus Christ went through."

Edwards spoke surrounded by a group of fellow Young Apostles, who helped run the conference. They led the younger Catholics in the rosary and seminars. It was a great honor, they said.

One apostle, Jason Delangie, 17, of Litchfield, N.H., said he backed into religious life. "I was dating the youth minister's daughter. But then I got into it."

After the men's talk, the boys stampeded across the grassy campus to a large tent on the hill. And they roared, as Righteous B had told them, like warriors.

From the tent came the shrill chants of the girls, already seated and awaiting Sunday Mass: "We want Jesus. We want Jesus. We want Jesus."

Before the service, Bob Rice, a pop singer and professor at Franciscan University, stood on a makeshift altar in front of a large crucifix and preached against sin.

"We live in a society where we are supposed to be instantly satisfied. Help this generation rise up from this society of lust, abortion and unfaithful marriages," he said.

Rice told them that he signed a chastity card when he was 22 and made an agreement with his girlfriend to be "pure."

"Three months later she dumped me and I hated this card," Rice said. But he kept the card in his Bible and met another woman, who had a chastity card of her own. "That woman became my wife and we have three children," Rice said.

The tent thundered with applause.

Father John Gordon took the altar, booming like a Southern minister, or a rapper in a flowing robe. "Give it up for the Lord," Gordon said. "Give it up for Jesus Christ."

Shannon Hennigan, 17, raised her hands in the air, like a fan at a rock concert. After the service ended, Hennigan and her youth group from Pawtucket kept singing, swaying and dancing.

Jackie Ciesynski, 15, wore a shirt proclaiming "Jesus is my Homeboy." She plays varsity soccer at Tolman High School in Pawtucket, and attends church every Sunday. Her friends "think church is stupid.

They would never understand why she would spend a sunny weekend in July praying at a shrine in Attleboro. "I can't explain it to them," she said.

At the end of Mass, the priest called up to the altar any boys considering the priesthood and any girls thinking about becoming nuns.

About 100 teens came forward. The crowd clapped and hooted. The priest implored the other teens under the tent not to talk about who stood up when they returned home to their high schools and homes. He didn't want the group to become discouraged.

Then, the priest asked everyone to pray for them.