Franciscan at Home

What makes a school Catholic? Is a school Catholic because it exists with the permission of the bishop of the diocese, or it is a member of the National Catholic Educational Association (NCEA), or it is an extension or an outreach of a parish community, or it has a crucifix in every classroom and religious artwork throughout the building, or because its curriculum includes religious studies, or because the pattern of its practices align with the National Standards and Benchmarks of Effective Catholic Schools, or because Mass and the Sacrament of Reconciliation are celebrated for the student body during the school year?

For sure, each of these elements is a marker of a Catholic School. But I dare to say that the most decisive element of a Catholic school is the religious character of its personnel.

When the administrator(s) and a critical mass of faculty members embrace Jesus as their center (rather than mention him as an afterthought or an add-on), his spirit infuses the campus. It becomes evident to all that it is the primary purpose, consistent attitude, and intentional goal of the school to guide students to know, love, and serve God. When a Jesus-centered mindset drives every endeavor, action, decision, and response, self-disciplined students, who seek to develop their personal best, emerge. These hallmarks of a Catholic school (a Christ-centered environment, self-disciplined students, and academic achievement) are rooted in the religious character of its teachers.

“Back in the day” Catholic schools were predominately staffed by men or women religious whose distinctive garb was, itself, an outward reminder of God. It seemed as though these walking icons were everywhere, had eyes in the back of their veil-covered heads, and appeared where you least expected them! While students labored over final examinations, they observed their teachers fingering rosary beads suspended from their waists. At precisely the opportune moment, Scripture quotes seemed to slip from their lips effortlessly. Oftentimes, students could observe their teacher clutching the large crucifix that hung from the neck. Teacher body-posture, classroom decorations, routines, consistency in procedures, and high expectations set a tone. The school day was hemmed in with prayer or sacred ritual. At morning prayer students consecrated the day to God, and at dismissal they examined their consciences and made an act of contrition.

An intentional awareness of God punctuated the entire school day. For instance, long before marketers raised awareness of “WWJD?” via bracelets, posters, and such, these teachers motivated student decision-making by remarking, “What would Jesus do …or say…or desire?” “How will this choice contribute to the greater glory of God and the salvation of your soul?” “Live Jesus!” On every heading of student papers and copybook pages students drew a cross followed by “JMJ,” “JMJAT,” “AMDG” or an acronym-inscription related to the charism of the religious congregation. In my elementary school, every hour on the hour, a designated student rang a bell and intoned: “Pardon me, Sister. Pardon me, Class. It is time to bless the hour.” All activity ceased. The student then said, “Let us remember that we are in the holy presence of God.” The class responded: “Let us adore God’s divine majesty.” Together we prayed the “Glory be” and promptly the lesson continued wherever it had been interrupted. Wherever students happened to be at 12 noon, inside or outside the building, they stood still and prayed the Angelus formula while the Angelus bells rang in the distance. When emergency sirens were heard, the class prayed an aspiration or formula that asked God’s assistance for the unknown person in need. When Church bells tolled for a funeral, class stopped for a moment of silence and/or to pray for the deceased, “Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May his soul and all the souls of the faithful departed through the mercy of God rest in peace. Amen.”

Additionally, religious instruction occurred daily, usually as the first session of the day. And, in many schools, the afternoon session began with a 15 minute period of story-telling that applied faith to action. Nothing else trumped Religion class! Some textbooks even referenced Catholic culture. Then, too, there were rituals of the liturgical seasons (Advent, Christmas, Lent, Easter, Pentecost), devotions to Mary (rosary, May Procession), Eucharistic devotion (frequent Mass, Forty Hours’ visits to the Blessed Sacrament, Benediction), Stations of the Cross, litanies and novenas, and regular participation in the Sacrament of Penance. The combination of all of these kinds of customs created a culture, an ambiance, a Godly reverence that pervaded every aspect of schooling. This culture underscored the sense that the institution was a divine enterprise and its teachers were the custodians of its spiritual nature and essential to its effectiveness.

The Catholic school was essentially an extension of convent or priory life. School practices, priorities, and order mirrored the lifestyle of the vowed religious. By 1970, the numbers of men and women religious in the schools declined tremendously. If their shoes were filled by lay counterparts, who had themselves been educated in the kind of Catholic school just described, the Catholic Identity or Catholic Culture continued in a similar fashion or adapted modern expressions that created the same end: a faith-infused environment; a divine, God-centered enterprise where activities reflected the spirituality of the teachers.

Over time, elements like a competitive market, certification requirements, and national standards impacted school design. Program demands increased; the length of the school day/year did not! Faith-related cultural customs were deleted. Simultaneously post-Vatican II faculty members—though faithful and faith-filled, well-educated, practicing Catholics—had no experience of schooling within “the Catholic bubble” and that style of spirituality was foreign to them. Consequently, maintaining or fostering Catholic identity or Catholic culture relied all the more on the religious character of school personnel.

Podemos tomar por supuesto el hecho de que la Iglesia Católica opere un gran número de escuelas alrededor del mundo. Es claro que la Iglesia debe de ofrecer educación religiosa, pero, ¿por qué la Iglesia enseña matemáticas, educación física, ciencias, literatura e historia? ¿No sería más fácil que la Iglesia enfocara más estrechamente lo sobrenatural? ¿Para qué enseña también sobre el mundo material y cómo leer y escribir? En el Gran Mandato, Jesús mandó a sus Apóstoles a que hicieran discípulos (mathetes en griego y discipli en latín –ambas palabras se refieren a los estudiantes) y que les enseñaran (Mt 28,19.20). Jesús, el Verbo de Dios, por Quien el universo fue hecho, estableció una Iglesia que desde el principio acogió a la instrucción sobre la naturaleza de la realidad en su totalidad.

Las humanidades y la cosmovisión católica

La Iglesia acogió a las humanidades para ayudarles a sus miembros, en particular a los religiosos, a comprender y a contemplar la Palabra de Dios, y también para poder hablar y escribir de modo efectivo para poder compartir este conocimiento. Desde la enseñanza de las siete disciplinas de las humanidades en las escuelas de las catedrales y monasterios, las universidades fueron formadas para enseñar filosofía y tres carreras terminales en teología, derecho y medicina. La misión de salvación de la Iglesia creció para incluir la formación completa de la persona, uniendo la fe y la razón en la misión común de buscar cómo vivir en el mundo y ordenar todas las cosas a la gloria de Dios.

La educación católica, recurriendo tanto a lo natural como lo sobrenatural, ofrece una visión completa de la vida: una cosmovisión católica. La cosmovisión, en un sentido sencillo, describe cómo vemos a la realidad y formamos a nuestros estudiantes para que ellos la comprendan y habiten en ella. La enseñanza con una robusta visión católica acoge a la persona en su totalidad: cuerpo, emociones, mente y voluntad. La persona humana, como un ser sacramental (es decir, una unidad de cuerpo y alma), requiere el desarrollo de su potencial en todas sus dimensiones: la fortaleza y la salud del cuerpo; el control sobre las emociones de acuerdo con el bien; la conformidad de la mente con la realidad y el desarrollo de hábitos mentales que permitan que uno comprenda y se exprese claramente; el desarrollo de las virtudes de la voluntad que conducirán a la felicidad; y el encuentro con el Dios vivo que da vida a nuestra alma y permite vivir una vida de santidad.

La escuela católica no puede simplemente ofrecer la misma instrucción que la de la educación pública, agregando posteriormente la educación religiosa y la Santa Misa al programa de estudios. Cada materia tiene que ser enseñada de modo distintivo, reflejando la unidad del conocimiento, con una fuente común en Dios – Su creación y Revelación – y ordenada a la sabiduría que comunica el fin último de todas las cosas. Una escuela católica aborda cada materia con las dos alas – la de la fe y la de la razón, a sabiendas que cada verdad conforma a nuestra mente a la Mente de Dios. Simone Weil afirma que cada verdad “es la imagen de algo precioso. Siendo un fragmento pequeño de una verdad particular, es una imagen pura de la Verdad única, eterna y viva que érase una vez declaró con voz humana, ‘Yo soy la verdad.’ Cada ejercicio de la escuela, pensado de esta forma, es como un sacramento.”

We can take for granted the fact that the Catholic Church runs a large number of schools throughout the world. It is clear that the Church must offer religious education, but why does the Church teach math, gym class, science, literature, and history? Wouldn’t it just be easier if the Church focused more narrowly on the supernatural; why also teach about the material world and how to read and write? In the Great Commission, Jesus commanded his apostles to make disciples, (mathetes in Greek and discipli in Latin – both words for students) and to teach them (Mt 28:19-20). Jesus, the Word of God, by whom the universe was made, established a Church that from the beginning embraced instruction on the nature of reality as a whole.

The Liberal Arts and a Catholic Worldview
The Church embraced the liberal arts in order to help its members, especially religious, to understand and contemplate the Word of God, as well as to speak and write effectively to share this knowledge. From the teaching of the seven liberal arts at the cathedral and monasteries schools, the universities formed to teach philosophy and three terminal degrees in theology, law, and medicine. The Church’s mission of salvation grew to include the complete formation of the person, uniting faith and reason in the common mission of seeking how to live in the world and order all things to the glory of God.

Catholic education, drawing upon both the natural and supernatural, offers a complete vision of life: a Catholic worldview. Worldview, in a simple sense, describes the way in which we see reality and form our students to understand it and live within it. Teaching with a robust Catholic vision embraces the entire person: body, emotions, mind, and will. The human person, as a sacramental being (body-soul unity), requires development of its potential in all of its dimensions: strength and health of body; control of the emotions in accord with the good; conformity of the mind to reality and development of the mental habits that enable one to understand and express oneself clearly; the development of the virtues of will that lead to happiness; and the encounter with the living God that enlivens our soul and enables a life of holiness.

The Catholic school cannot simply offer the same instruction as a public education, with religious education and the Mass superadded onto the curriculum. Every subject must be taught in a distinctive fashion that reflects the unity of knowledge, having a common source in God—his creation and revelation—and ordered in a wisdom that communicates the ultimate purpose of all things. A Catholic school approaches every subject through the two wings of faith and reason, knowing that every truth conforms our minds to the mind of God. Simone Weil claims that every truth “is the image of something precious. Being a little fragment of particular truth, it is a pure image of the unique, eternal and living Truth which once in a human voice declared ‘I am the Truth.’ Every school exercise thought of in this way, is like a sacrament.”[1]

La necesidad en la Iglesia

El discipulado es una palabra que muchos comprenden solo parcialmente. Si la gente está familiarizada con la palabra, generalmente la definen como ser seguidor de Jesús. El problema es que muy poca percibirá que el discipulado también abarca el ser formador de discípulos. Al responder a la Gran Comisión en Mateo 28, 19-20, somos llamados no solamente a seguir a Jesús y todo lo que Él enseña, sino también a ir y hacer discípulos.

Con demasiada frecuencia, los responsables de la formación de la fe para adultos en sus parroquias dejan a un lado al Catecismo de la Iglesia Católica por ser demasiado difícil y, por lo tanto, demasiado abrumador para su auditorio. Quizás también lo consideren irrelevante para la experiencia de la gente, poco práctico o personal, o poco inspirador. Sin embargo, hacer caso omiso al Catecismo como recurso fundamental en la formación de la fe de los adultos sería perjudicar al Pueblo de Dios. El Catecismo es un don de la Iglesia – o más propiamente, del Espíritu Santo, obrando por medio de los sucesores de los apóstoles, para todos los miembros del Cuerpo de Cristo. En su Constitución Apostólica sobre el Catecismo, el Papa Juan Pablo II dice claramente que el Catecismo se ofrece “a todos aquellos fieles que deseen conocer mejor las riquezas inagotables de la salvación” (cf. Ef 3,8).” No es un documento seco, sino uno repleto de vida. “Está orientado a la maduración de esta fe, su enraizamiento en la vida y su irradiación en el testimonio” (CEC 23). El Catecismo es un documento formativo – tiene el poder para transformar al corazón y a la mente de quien lo lea.

El Catecismo es un poderoso instrumento de formación porque expresa tan clara y hermosamente las verdades de los misterios cristianos, y la interconexión entre ellas. Cada doctrina es presentada desde sus fundamentos en la Sagrada Escritura – con su poder para penetrar a las mentes y los corazones, y a través de sus fuentes en la Tradición, tal y como lo expresaron los padres y doctores de la Iglesia, los concilios, y los santos. Las verdades se presentan en su riqueza y profundidad. La persona humana encuentra esta belleza, orden y coherencia irresistible. Hay un principio fundamental en acción aquí: la verdad (de la Revelación), cuando es expresada adecuadamente en sí misma (es decir, hermosamente) habla a nuestro corazón y mente, atrayéndonos hacia dentro. En todas las doctrinas, contemplamos la forma de Cristo, y somos extasiados (tomo prestada esta expresión de Hans Urs von Balthasar): somos cautivados de tal modo que nos impulsa para responder a Cristo mismo con nuestro abandono a la fe. En corto, la belleza convierte.

I grew up in a Catholic home, where most years of my elementary education were at a Catholic school, where we practiced Catholic traditions and devotions from time to time, where we always went to Mass on Sundays, and where I knew my parent’s greatest inheritance for me was the faith. In hindsight, however, I was a mediocre Catholic. If I participated in the mission God gave me at my baptism, it was purely by accident, not by intention. As a young adult, I was in the Army and moved around quite a bit. In each new place I would search the chapel or parish bulletin for opportunities to learn more about my faith. I almost never found anything suited for me. Activities and events in the parish were for children and families, but I was a single young adult. What about me? I was basically living from my eighth grade understanding of the faith.
By these experiences, I learned that we Catholics need to be continually formed in our faith, in a lifelong process, so that we might be equipped to perform our God-given mission from baptism. But where must this formation take place? It first takes place in the home, the domestic church, and then in the parish, the house of formation for the laity.

The Parish is the Curriculum
Once young adults leave home to make their way in the world, how are they to receive ongoing formation in the faith? This is where the parish must augment what happens in the home and must continually provide various opportunities for adult faith formation. In 1999, the U.S. Catholic bishops produced Our Hearts Were Burning Within Us: A Pastoral Plan for Adult Faith Formation in the United States, which highlights the irreplaceable “dimensions” and “concrete approaches” of adult faith formation.

The Six Dimensions of Adult Faith Formation
According to the U.S. bishops, “The ongoing development of a living, explicit, and fruitful Christian faith in adulthood requires growth in all six [of these] dimensions. Each of them is a fundamental aspect of Christian life and a foundational content area for adult faith formation.” The six dimensions are as follows.

Introduction: Addressing the Interface of Faith and Reason
The final installment of this series reaches back to the nineteenth century to highlight the contribution of Blessed John Henry Newman. Cardinal Newman was widely acknowledged to be among the greatest thinkers of his time. His special relevance to the field of education can be found in his classic work, An Essay in Aid of a Grammar of Assent. It was here that Newman confronted—at their point of origin—many of the intellectual challenges that have come to fruition in our own time.

Of these challenges, Pope John Paul II drew particular attention to the issues of rationalism and fideism. Rationalism is the tendency to explain the created world and humanity itself without reference to God’s role in it. Those who retained some belief in God reduced him to practical irrelevance in terms of any divine impact on human affairs. Fideism was the opposite tendency. Everything that happened was viewed as coming about through the direct intervention of God. While it is true that God is the ultimate cause of all things, human beings have genuine freedom to act in their own sphere. Without this, there could be no free will and no possibility for us to love God or anyone else; we would simply be puppets.

Because the mystery of the Most Holy Trinity “is the central mystery of the Christian faith and of Christian life”[1] it is nearly impossible to exaggerate its importance in all catechesis, including that of children. But how can we possibly convey to children this holy mystery, which even well-educated theologians admit is beyond human understanding? Trinitarian Beginnings Asking how we can best teach children about the Trinity is akin to asking how we ought to teach children about their mother and father and siblings. Ideally, children are born into a family and welcomed into the pre-existing communion of love between their mother and father. By the act of joining together and making a family, man and woman reflect (though imperfectly) the trinitarian mystery. The following quote from St. John Paul II helps us see that the experience of family life is meant to image the Trinity, which he calls the divine “We.” In the light of the New Testament it is possible to discern how the primordial model of the family is to be sought in God himself, in the Trinitarian mystery of his life. The divine “We” is the eternal pattern of the human “we”, especially of that "we" formed by the man and the woman created in the divine image and likeness. The words of the Book of Genesis contain that truth about man which is confirmed by the very experience of humanity.[2] Parents are the first and most influential teachers of the life-giving, self-donating love of the Trinity. As they welcome new life, make sacrifices for whichever family member most needs love at the moment, and teach their children to do the same, they reflect the life-giving love of the Blessed Trinity. This is true whether or not the family is aware of what they are doing. The family images God; giving flesh and blood to the truth that we are made to make of ourselves gifts for others. Children first learn how to live family life by being born into a loving family. But the love they learn even in the best Catholic home is merely a faint reflection of the love they are immersed into at Baptism. Children are first immersed in the Holy Trinity the day they are baptized into the Church, born into the family of God. It is then that they receive the indelible mark of belonging to God’s family. When children are baptized in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, they are born into the communion of love between the three Divine Persons of the Blessed Trinity. “Baptism . . . signifies and actually brings about death to sin and entry into the life of the Most Holy Trinity through configuration to the Paschal mystery of Christ.”[3] Yet, just as it is possible to form a family but neglect to surround the children with experiences of virtue and self-donating love, so it is possible to baptize children and fail to lead them to an awareness of the communion of love we know as the Blessed Trinity. Aside from encouraging parents to live the virtues in their own families, how can catechists help families promote an awareness of trinitarian life at home?

According to St. John Paul II, the Christocentricity of catechesis primarily refers to how catechesis focuses on the actions and teachings of “the Person of Jesus” and how catechesis leads to Christian discipleship in the form of “the sequela Christi.”[2] Insofar as we find the living Person of Jesus at the heart of catechesis, we must focus not only on the teachings of Jesus but also on the actions of Jesus as a Person, both of which serve as the basis of authentic Christian discipleship. The way in which the Person of Jesus, the teachings of Jesus, and the actions of Jesus blend together in the context of the following of Jesus corresponds to “the mystery of Christ” and how it is the “primary and essential object of catechesis.” In turn, catechesis directs the believer “to study this Mystery in all its dimensions” [3] as a mystery that we profess, celebrate, and live, which gives us, for example, diverse parts of our one Catechism. St. John Paul II further clarifies that “Christocentricity in catechesis also means the intention to transmit not one’s own teaching or that of some other master, but the teaching of Jesus Christ” to the extent that each of us “is Christ’s spokesman, enabling Christ to teach with his lips.”[4] In a certain respect, therefore, we can measure our own work on the basis of whether what people hear from us corresponds to what Jesus himself would say in an encounter with them. Fortunately, we have many examples from the Gospels that recount what Jesus did say to those that he encountered; so, we do have a clear standard by which to measure our own words. At the same time, the numerous teachings of Jesus can scatter our thoughts in many directions as we focus on the finer points of what he says in each particular situation. For this reason, I suggest that we should primarily think of our own efforts at Christocentric catechesis in terms of Jesus’s original proclamation of the Gospel as he opens his public ministry: the Kingdom of God is at hand, repent, believe, and come follow me. These four reference points are the so-called four pillars of Gospel-living and encapsulate the essence of the one message that Jesus repeats in various ways to all those he encounters. Combining these two fundamental meanings of Christocentric catechesis (the centrality of Jesus and the importance of his words), the success of our work can be in large part measured by how it brings us and those we teach into a personal encounter with Jesus and also directs us to the four pillars of Gospel-living that provide the proper context of discipleship found in Jesus’s original call to follow him. Let’s consider the first two of the four pillars.