N.Y. man brings high-octane ministry to Catholic teens

c. 2007 Religion News Service ONONDAGA, N.Y. _ Devotional candles flicker in the breeze that blows through the open windows of the Church of St. Michael and St. Peter. It’s past dusk, but it’s not at all quiet. A muscular man commands the attention of the group of about 70 _ most of them teenagers […]

c. 2007 Religion News Service

ONONDAGA, N.Y. _ Devotional candles flicker in the breeze that blows through the open windows of the Church of St. Michael and St. Peter. It’s past dusk, but it’s not at all quiet.

A muscular man commands the attention of the group of about 70 _ most of them teenagers _ crammed into the front pews. His voice, whispering a moment ago, fills the nave.


“If you’re not ready to pump it up, go home!” shouts Justin Fatica, veins bulging from his forehead, his fists punching the air like a professional wrestler goading the crowd. “If you’re not ready to pump it up, go out in the rain!”

Nobody leaves. The lights go down. The rock band kicks on and dozens of teenagers start jumping up and down, dancing, clapping and singing.

“We’re going to pack this place,” they shout, “with his saving grace.”

Welcome to Mega Youth Ministry, an in-your-face outreach ministry to teenagers, some of them Catholic, some of them troubled, all of them moved by Fatica’s high-octane intensity.

It’s not what many would expect in a Catholic church. Some older, more conservative Catholics don’t get it, said Jennifer Robinson, a 20-year-old from Syracuse who first met Fatica at her Catholic high school two years ago. She’s been coming to Mega Youth Ministry ever since.

“Some parts of it get out of hand,” she said. “I’d rather have it that way than not get through at all.”

Fatica, 29, says he’s heard some of the criticism, “mostly from people of the church.” When he hears the complaints, he thinks of St. Francis of Assisi, who was known to ask his brothers to treat him the way people treated the destitute at that time, by stripping them and dragging them through the village by a rope.

“He would do it in his underwear and everybody would be like, `What’s his deal?”’ Fatica said, smiling. “Just like a lot of the things that I’m doing. (People say,) `What is this guy doing? This isn’t Catholic, this is Baptist!”’


Perhaps, but some say maybe that’s just what the area _ and the church _ needs. Bob Halligan Jr., the leader of the six-person Mega Youth band, said this corner of the Catholic Church tends to be “very much on the sleepy side.”

And Fatica, he said, might just be able to wake it up.

“We’re really going after God on this,” he said, “so some people get spooked.”

Fatica challenges teens to confront their inner demons, including drug use, sexual violence, bulimia, suicidal thoughts, self-injury and alcoholic parents. Some teens say Mega Youth has helped them overcome destructive behavior.

“You could come here, no matter what you did, and you’ll never be judged,” said Rob Bellucci, 15, a high school freshman. “You see a lot of other people going through the same things, and it’s just like, `Hey, I’m not alone.”’

Fatica got his start in Paramus, N.J., where he launched Hard as Nails ministry in 2004; he moved to Syracuse in 2005, after he got married. The local Mega Youth Ministry was started by five Catholic churches.

Through Hard as Nails, Fatica works as a sort of traveling Catholic evangelist, using techniques borrowed from rock concerts, weightlifting, reality TV and professional wrestling. Last year, according to his Web site, he spoke in front of 60,000 teens.

Next month (Dec. 17), HBO will show a 78-minute documentary about Fatica’s ministry. Filmmaker David Holbrooke ran into Fatica in 2005 and ditched his previous project about faith in America to focus on Fatica.


“Justin was so physical and passionate, he just jumped off the screen,” Holbrooke said. “If it was 15 minutes of Justin in a 90-minute film, it would have diminished him and made him seem one-dimensional, and he’s just not.”

Young Catholics like Robinson say Fatica offers something teens need to hear.

“It’s like MTV Jesus,” she said. “MTV puts boobs in your face. He puts Jesus in your face … If you’re going to be intense with something, be intense with something that’s positive, not negative.”

At one event, Fatica challenged teens to call a family member who has become distant or someone they love who has hurt them. “Who’s that person in your life you need to call?” he asked. “If you can’t call now, I ask you to go home.”

Again, nobody left.

In the darkened church, cell phones glowed, lighting the faces of about a dozen teens and adults, including Fatica. Some teens cried as they talked quietly.

Fatica said he thinks his ministry can become a model that could change the Catholic Church for the better.

“Just think if there were 5,000 guys like me, or 100, or 50, or 10,” he said. “By the time I’m dead, the church would be better off because there would be men getting out saying, ‘I’m going to give my whole life to Christ, to the church, and to their families.’


“I’ve got something here,” he said. “We’re going to shock the world.”

(Chris Iven writes for The Post-Standard in Syracuse.)

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A photo of Justin Fatica at Mega Youth Fest is available via https://religionnews.com.

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