Franciscan at Home

This is a paid advertisement in the July-September 2018 issue. Advertisements should not be viewed as endorsements from the publisher. To find out more about products from Pauline Books & Media call 800-878-4463 or visit www.PaulineStore.org

En el año 2005, la Conferencia de Obispos Católicos de los Estados Unidos publicó el documento titulado, The National Directory for Catechesis [El directorio nacional para la catequesis], lo cual declara, “toda persona con discapacidad tiene necesidades catequéticas que la comunidad cristiana tiene el deber de reconocer y satisfacer. Toda persona bautizada con discapacidad tiene el derecho a una catequesis adecuada y merece los medios para desarrollar su relación con Dios.” [1] Mi interés y participación en la formación religiosa de niños con discapacidades tiene sus raíces en mi experiencia personal. Al buscar respuestas acerca de lo que mejor nos convenía como familia, descubrí que nuestra historia era común; y aunque algunos estudiantes reciban una catequesis en su hogar, los estudiantes que se ausentan de los programas parroquiales para la formación de la fe se pierden de un elemento fundamental de la fe cristiana: la comunidad.

¿Dónde están los niños con discapacidades?

Como la mayoría de los padres de familia, nunca me imaginaba que mi hija iba a necesitar una educación especial. Mi esposo y yo teníamos el sueño y el objetivo de educar a nuestros hijos en una escuela católica desde el jardín de niños hasta el final de la educación media superior o grado 12. Cuando nuestro quinto hijo, Grace, entró al kínder, aquel sueño comenzó a desmoronarse. Sabía, desde el primer día, que Grace iba a necesitar de una ayuda adicional para mantenerse sentada, hacer filas y esperar su turno. De lo que aún no me daba cuenta era que su falta de contacto visual, su incapacidad para recordar los nombres de los miembros de la familia extendida y su obsesión con los dinosaurios eran indicadores de un trastorno del Espectro Autista, un diagnóstico que no recibimos sino hasta el verano posterior a su año en jardín de niños. Las lagunas de Gracie en cuanto a sus habilidades comunicativas fueron percibidas como una falta de respeto, su falta de habilidades sociales como una falta de amabilidad para con sus compañeros de clase, y sus sensibilidades sensoriales como un comportamiento inmaduro, incluso salvaje. Mi esposo y yo tomamos entonces la decisión de soltar nuestro sueño, y Gracie pasó a formar parte del 13 por ciento de niños que reciben servicios de educación especial en la escuela pública. [2] Sabíamos que teníamos que proporcionarle a nuestra hija su formación en la fe; elegimos enseñarle en casa desde el principio. Durante tres años nosotros mismos le enseñamos a Gracie y le preparamos para su Primera Reconciliación y su Primera Comunión utilizando los materiales para la educación en la fe de nuestra parroquia.

La mayoría de los niños que asisten a los programas católicos de formación en la fe provienen de escuelas públicas. Si el 13% de los niños que asisten a la escuela pública reciben educación especial, es de esperar que el 13% (uno de cada ocho) de los alumnos que asisten a programas de educación en la fe requieren de algún tipo de apoyo educativo para optimizar sus resultados de aprendizaje. San Juan Pablo II definió el resultado de aprendizaje óptimo para la educación religiosa: “el fin definitivo de la catequesis es poner a uno no sólo en contacto sino en comunión, en intimidad con Jesucristo…”.[3] En la tradición católica, esto también abarca la preparación y la recepción de los Sacramentos de la Reconciliación, la Eucaristía y la Confirmación.

El número de estudiantes con discapacidades que asisten a programas de formación en la fe no corresponde a las estadísticas. Es posible que los padres de familia no revelan toda la información acerca de las necesidades de sus hijos o simplemente no les inscriben. Las razones varían. Los padres de niños con discapacidades a menudo tienen muchas obligaciones adicionales relacionadas con el cuidado de sus hijos. Hay citas con el doctor, citas con terapeutas y juntas adicionales cada ciclo escolar con los maestros y el personal de apoyo en la escuela de sus hijos. Algunos papás pueden encontrarse justo en el límite de lo que puedan manejar. Algunas familias pueden haber experimentado el rechazo de su comunidad de fe y creen que el programa parroquial de formación en la fe no podrá o no querrá acomodar las necesidades de sus hijos. [4] Los niños con discapacidades deben de ser incluidos en todos los programas católicos para la formación en la fe. Para lograr su incorporación, es cuestión de crear comunidades cristianas incluyentes que den la bienvenida a los niños con discapacidades y a sus familias.

The language of discernment has its pitfalls. Often, such language is employed by Catholics to cover over a significant fear of commitment. For example, a young man may be “discerning” a vocation to the priesthood. Such discernment could be a good insofar as he is engaging regularly with a spiritual director, attending daily Mass, and praying the Divine Office. It could also be the case that the young man’s “discernment” is really a matter of relying solely upon his affections to assess the validity of the priestly call. He assumes he is “called” to the priesthood only when he feels excited about the idea of being a priest.

Such language of discernment becomes even more problematic when applied to marriage. In the context of a Catholic university, one often hears young men and women say that they are discerning marriage. Notice that the language of discernment in this case is related to the consideration of a formal state of life, rather than a particular existing relationship. One is “discerning” marriage in general not nuptial union to a living and breathing human being—a person with affections, desires, and an imagination separate from one’s own. The center of the act of discernment is the self, not the other.

Don’t get me wrong. Of course, it is possible to have a general sense of calling toward a specific way of life. One may be attracted to the priesthood insofar as one recognizes the legitimate value of a life given over in sacrificial love through teaching, preaching, and sacramental ministry. One may perceive the gift of marriage by recognizing a longing that the human heart has for union with the beloved and (God-willing) children. These basic affections that draw toward a form of life are intrinsic to the process of discernment. They cannot be discounted unless we deny our humanity!

But those who remain entrenched in the first stage of discernment, not moving toward concrete forms of love, can leave a wake of havoc in the lives of other human beings. For example, young people can be in the midst of discerning marriage, perhaps even dating someone at the time. Then, for whatever reason (perhaps a powerful encounter with God in adoration or in liturgical prayer), they decide that they need to discern consecrated life. They leave the person that they are dating behind to pursue their new path of discernment. They remain on this new path until there is a reason to call into question whether they are called to religious life. Because many young people base the process of discernment in the affections, in the discernment of a general state of life, they become incapacitated for a concrete commitment. They become professional discerners.

This vacillation caused by exclusive reliance upon the affections, as well as a focus on a “general” state of life in discerning marriage is sympatico with life in a liquid age.

Perhaps it would be an understatement to say that today much confusion surrounds the understanding of marriage and the family. This is certainly the case in the secular world; although from the experience of the two-year Synod on the family, it would appear that Catholics (clergy and laity alike) are not immune from the confusion. The reasons for this are too many to name for a short article. Rather, I would prefer to propose a solution, one that is both simple and challenging. The answer to the challenges of marriage and the family is holiness in the domestic church. This is actually good news for it places the responsibility for solving these problems outside of our reach since holiness, properly speaking, belongs to God alone (cf. Mk 10:18).

After a few minutes’ conversation on my doorstep, a Mormon missionary asked if I was, by chance, a “born-again Christian?” “Well,” I replied, “I’m a born-again Catholic.” This idea of being “born again” made me reflect on the challenge of awakening cultural Catholics to the radical implications of the Sacrament of Baptism. Living in County Kerry—the tourist magnet of Ireland—I’ve seen the trouble American visitors take to research their family tree and locate their Irish roots. They trawl through parish registers to find out about the births, marriages, and deaths of their ancestors. (“Who are your people?” is a familiar question in this part of the country.) Perhaps we can help cradle Catholics to develop the same kind of curiosity about their spiritual roots; to find out what difference it makes, in practice, to bear their surname, not just of O’Donnell, O’Sullivan, or O’Shea but “of Christ.”[1] Pope Francis, in one of his Wednesday catecheses, asked a set of questions that could form part of a parish or family catechesis on baptismal identity. “Is Baptism, for me, a fact of the past, relegated to a date…or is it a living reality, that pertains to my present, to every moment?” “Do you feel strong with the strength that Christ gave you by his death and his Resurrection? Or do you feel low, without strength?” “Baptism gives strength and it gives light. Do you feel enlightened, with that light that comes from Christ? Are you a man or woman of light? Or are you a dark person, without the light of Jesus?” (November 13, 2013) I would like to illustrate five points, based on this catechesis, which could help Catholic families to awaken to their baptismal identity and activate its power.

For all the social media “friending” and “connecting,” there is a crisis of friendship in the world today. The trivialization and/or sexualization of the concept of friendship is an increasing problem in our culture. Families and catechists must do everything in our power to foster healthy friendships in the lives of the children entrusted to our care. Like everything in children’s lives, their understanding of what it means to give and receive friendship begins at home. How can parents offer children the experiences and skills they need to construct a good foundation for healthy friendship? Four Friendship Virtues The four cardinal virtues, when practiced in our families, enhance our ability to be present to children and develop other virtues that help them live in friendship with others. Here we identify some intentional ways that parents can cultivate virtuous living and healthy Christian friendships in our children.

A lo largo de los siguientes números de la Catechetical Review, presentaré tres artículos que tratan del papel del catequista: desde las perspectivas de padre de familia, de docente en una escuela católica, y de voluntario parroquial. He desempeñado personalmente los tres papeles, y quiero aclarar desde el principio que ninguno tuvo la misma importancia personal para mí que aquél que se me confirió a través de mi vocación al matrimonio - la de ser esposo y papá, con responsabilidad por mi familia. Es en este punto que comenzaré.

Over the next few issues of The Catechetical Review, I will be presenting three articles on the role of the catechist: from the perspectives of a parent, a teacher in a Catholic school, and a parish volunteer. I have fulfilled all of these roles myself, but may I say at the outset that none of them has been as personally important to me as the one conferred by the vocation of marriage—that of husband and father, with responsibility for my family. This is where I will begin.

In 1981, Pope John Paul II issued Familiaris Consortio. I remember this event as clearly as if it were yesterday because it spoke directly into our circumstances. My wife, Anne, and I were anticipating the birth of our first child. One sentence stood out and its impact has never left me: “Their [the parents’] role as educators is so decisive that scarcely anything can compensate for their failure in it” (36). A few years earlier, the same pope had also pointed out that “… parents themselves profit from the effort that this demands of them, for in a catechetical dialogue of this sort each individual both receives and gives.”[i] He was telling us that if we put our efforts into this task, we would gain as much as our children.
...

John Paul II’s emphasis on “the church of the home” picked up on a theme from VaticanII. The success of the Church’s educational efforts in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries had obscured the role of parents as catechists. Yet the family’s role in passing on the knowledge of God was as ancient as humanity itself. This pattern is so consistent through the Old Testament that I will not multiply examples—a few will suffice. The covenant God offered to Abraham implied an ongoing relationship with his family through the generations; his household had to be a place of instruction, prayer, and worship for the continuation of the covenant. This was reiterated in the Law of Moses: “and you shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise (Deut 6:7). When the new covenant was offered through Christ, the importance of the family was in no way diminished. From the earliest days of Christianity, the family was seen as the gathering place for worship and prayer, and the favored place for catechetical instruction. In Christ, spouses participate in the plan of God, imaging in their marriage Christ’s union with his bride, the Church.

The human, spiritual, intellectual, and pastoral pillars of formation are used to guide the formation of Catholic priests and deacons throughout the world. The United States Bishops’ document Coworkers in the Vineyard[i] applies these four principles to lay ecclesial ministers, including catechists. In this article, we extend the application to children and families. The terms “religious education,” “catechesis,” and “faith formation” are practically interchangeable in the way parishes use them today. No matter what terms we prefer, it makes sense to concern ourselves with the whole person, who is, by nature, in relationship with other persons. ...As we form children in the faith, it is essential that we incorporate their families. Children’s human, spiritual, intellectual, and pastoral formation is inseparable from the families in which they live. Our role as catechists can never replace that of their parents. We have a duty to support family life, even as we model appropriate behavior for our students and insist they practice compassion, kindness, and all the human and theological virtues.