Franciscan at Home

Head buried in her screen, she was more concerned with live-tweeting the event than listening to the speaker. She was so busy scrolling through social media, she didn’t realize she had walked past a friend she hadn’t seen in years.

Our parish recently hosted a major event in collaboration with two local parishes in our area. The speaker was well-known; and as the volunteers gathered in a circle with him to pray before the event, I looked up at one point and noticed something striking: a full seventy-five percent of the volunteers standing in the circle were past RCIA participants! As the RCIA Director of this small to mid-sized parish of around six hundred families, I was thrilled. I silently added a prayer of thanksgiving to the Lord for doing great things for us, because I was certainly filled with joy! (cf. Ps 126:3). The words of Pope St. John Paul II ring true in this regard, “In both accepting and proclaiming the Gospel in the power of the Spirit the Church becomes at one and the same time an ‘evangelizing and evangelized’ community, and for this very reason, she is made the servant of all.”[1] Reflecting back on the journey we have traveled to reach this point, I can say with some satisfaction that we have come a long way. Admittedly, we still have far to go. Rome, as they say, was not built in a day. The Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults is most certainly a process for the parish, as well as for the RCIA participants. Beginning the Process Transitioning from a nine-month RCIA process (with a combined Breaking Open the Word/catechetical session on Sundays) to a year-round process (with extended catechesis on a weeknight, including childcare), took a lot of prayer, courage, and organization. This change has made a positive impact on our catechists, catechesis, and the parish as a whole. Included in this adventure was a fair amount of hand-holding and accompaniment by my mentor, especially in the beginning. She should be canonized for her encouragement and patience with me! Eight years later, our team can now look back and say with enthusiasm and a fair amount of zeal that it was ALL worth it! Once we synchronized our methodology with the rhythm of a year-round model for adults, we moved on to building the catechetical team. We then began to incrementally add the following: a hospitality team, intercessory prayer team, set up team, RCIA adapted for teens, RCIA adapted for children (Jr. High-6/7/8 combo, Children-3/4/5 combo), and RICA (for adults in Spanish). All of the above are offered on the same night at the same time in our parish in order to accommodate entire families. Along the way, I was invited by the pastor to become a staff member. Initially it was five hours per week, then it was increased to nineteen and a half hours. We even obtained…gasp…a real office! Finally, my hours were increased to a full-time, thirty-hour per week position with benefits. This is what it takes to direct a full-scale RCIA process in a parish.[2] Our newest endeavor, due to begin this spring, is our neophyte team. These catechists will be present during the Mystagogy sessions where they will become acquainted with the neophytes. After Pentecost, this team will then accompany the new Catholics during their Neophyte Year by meeting regularly with them on a fixed schedule, taking them deeper into discipleship, and beginning to move them toward apostolic works according to the differing charisms of the individuals.

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.

As catechists, we often shy away from teaching the Trinity. Perhaps we imagine that our audience will not be able to understand; or, perhaps we doubt whether we are capable of teaching adequately on this great mystery. And so, the Trinity can appear in the curriculum as a burdensome lesson plan that needs to be addressed and, thank goodness, when the lesson plan is over, we can move on to catechizing on “easier” aspects of the faith. The goal of this article is to offer a challenge and a consolation in regard to catechesis, curriculum, and the Trinity. The challenge is that the Trinity is not merely a particular “topic” that needs to be covered every so often. Rather, the Blessed Trinity is the topic—the foundational reality and source of unity—which must be addressed in every catechesis. The consolation is that the Catechism of the Catholic Church has been written in such a way so as to draw our attention, clearly and consistently, to the trinitarian unity of the faith. In other words, the Trinity is the source of unity for the whole curriculum and for the whole of our precious faith. The Catechism gently reminds us of this fact at every turn. Trinity as Source of Unity One of the great challenges of catechesis is to present the faith as a whole—as a coherent unity. Unfortunately, it is far too common for the articles of faith to be perceived not as a whole, but rather as mere isolated bits of information, or disparate facts to be remembered. For example, there are seven sacraments, ten commandments, and a partridge in a pear tree, etc.; and somehow, we imagine that if we could simply keep all these lists straight, we would thereby understand the faith. In truth, we only understand the faith when we perceive how all of these aspects of Divine Revelation form a unity. What, then, is the source of this unity? The Blessed Trinity! Listen to the Catechism on this very point. The mystery of the Most Holy Trinity is the central mystery of Christian faith and life. It is the mystery of God in himself. It is therefore the source of all the other mysteries of faith, the light that enlightens them. It is the most fundamental and essential teaching in the “hierarchy of the truths of the faith.”[1] The phrase “hierarchy of truths” is taken from the Second Vatican Council’s Decree on Ecumenism, and it is further explained in the General Directory for Catechesis, which notes that “some truths are based upon others as a matter of priority and are illumined by them.”[2] In other words, the Blessed Trinity is the basis of every truth, and the light that illuminates and unites every aspect of our faith. This makes eminent sense. After all, we come from the Trinity; in God’s great mercy, we may hope to spend eternity in the life and love of the Trinity; therefore, every aspect of this present life really only matters—only makes sense—in light of the Blessed Trinity. Our job as catechists is to craft every catechesis with this key truth in mind. Whatever topic or doctrine we are discussing, we want to draw attention to the manner in which the Trinity illuminates it.

A Gift from the Church for the Church What does the world need at this time? And what would help every single Catholic right now? The answer is held in this beautiful gem, the Catechism of the Catholic Church. The contents on each page of this “book” capture God’s profound love for us and his unwavering desire to be united with us in a relationship of love. Literally, we can find God in every paragraph! St. Paul tells us in his Letter to the Romans that we are to “be transformed by the renewal of [our] mind” (Rom 12:2). There are a vast number of excellent Catholic books that can be studied and put into practice that bring such renewal, but none compare to the richness of the Catechism of the Catholic Church. This is a bold statement but is based upon the testimony by Catholics at all levels of faith: from the person in the parish with no theological background to the scholarly intellectual with years of higher-level training. This life-saving treasure is worth reading in its entirety, as a systematic and orderly presentation of the “Sacred deposit” of the Faith.[1] We have been given a most incredible gift in the Catechism. This beautiful masterpiece is an orderly presentation of the faith—revealed Truth—that slowly builds in a manner in which all the teachings draw together and make sense. That is to say, there is a growing explanation of who God is, what he has done and continues to do for us, and our response to him through our choices in daily life and our relationship with him through prayer. And the presentation of doctrine throughout is clear and succinct. Beginning with the prologue, the first heading grabs our attention: “The life of man – to know and love God.” In order for us to know and love God, we must come to “the knowledge of the truth” (1Tim 2:3-4; emphasis mine), which is necessary for salvation. So, anything that is taught regarding the Faith must be correct in order to convey the truth! We have the guarantee that the teaching in the Catechism is correct. From the Church we receive the Truth revealed by God gathered together in the Catechism—the treasure of “Good News” given by Christ to the Apostles and handed on to us. Therefore, the Catechism allows every Catholic, and the world, to know exactly “what the Church professes, celebrates, lives and prays in her daily life.”[2] In Pope John Paul II’s Apostolic Constitution introducing the text of the Catechism, the first line captures the feelings of every person who has read any part of this “authoritative exposition of the one and perennial apostolic faith”: “It is a cause for great joy that the…Catechism…is being published.” In Chapter One of the Creed, I can remember finding peace in the depths of my soul when I read the following lines because I had lived in a place where I was not hearing the truth: …God is Truth itself, whose words cannot deceive. This is why one can abandon oneself in full trust to the truth and faithfulness of his word in all things…. God is also truthful when he reveals himself – the teaching that comes from God is “true instruction.” When he sends his Son into the world it will be ‘to bear witness to the truth’: “We know that the Son of God has come and has given us understanding, to know him who is true.” (CCC, pars. 215, 217, emphasis mine) We can rest assured that the Catechism contains the constant teaching of the Catholic Church. We can have a tremendous sense of security in knowing this is a reliable presentation of the truth. As Jesus said, “you will know the truth and the truth will set you free” (Jn 8:32). This truth not only brings intellectual freedom but also, even more comprehensively, provides emotional and spiritual freedom, which brings stability and peace. We don’t have to wonder; this does not involve guesswork; we don’t have to figure it out. God has revealed the truth and wants us to know and understand the truth and live it out by his grace, because it will provide personal happiness, not only now but for all eternity. The Catechism also contains a cohesive unity, in that it is composed of four interconnected parts, also called pillars: Creed, Sacraments, Life in Christ, and Prayer. What we believe in the Creed, we celebrate in the Sacraments. Our belief and celebration, in turn, shape and sustain how we live and pray. In other words, a doctrine in the Creed is directly related in some way to specific paragraphs in the sections on the Sacraments, Life in Christ, and Christian Prayer. And this is the case, back and forth, between all four pillars.

En nuestro número anterior, Dr. Kreeft exploró varios asuntos importantes que se suscitan cuando consideramos las preguntas de “¿quién?” y “¿dónde?” en cuanto se refieran a Cristo en la Eucaristía. En este artículo, el autor examina las tres preguntas finales con tal de ayudarnos a mejor comprender la enseñanza de la Iglesia sobre nuestro Señor Eucarístico.

¿Qué?
¿Qué actividad realiza Cristo en la Eucaristía? Obviamente, Él actúa sobre nosotros y dentro de nosotros en la Sagrada Comunión, tanto en nuestro cuerpo como en nuestra alma, ya que Él nos penetra en Cuerpo y Alma, no solamente para estar allí, para ser actual, sino para ser activo también en nosotros. Nos hace cosas. Nos salva de nosotros mismos, nos lava quitando nuestros pecados, nos justifica y santifica, y nos glorifica. Nos da toda gracia, nos hace, de forma gradual, lo que le hizo a María repentina y totalmente, es decir “llena de gracia”. En nuestro caso, este proceso no es completado y perfeccionado en esta vida, como lo fue para María. Pero lo que le hizo Dios, nos lo hace a nosotros. Hace – está ahora manos a la obra haciendo – una obra mucho mayor que el hacer el universo entero desde la nada: está haciendo santos de pecadores. El mundo entero es como aquella caja-más-que-mágica a la que llamamos el confesionario: Adán entra y Jesús sale. Cristo hace lo que únicamente Dios puede hacer: crea en nosotros un corazón puro. Nos está operando el corazón. Él es quien T.S. Eliot llamó “el cirujano herido”. La Sagrada Comunión es cirugía cardíaca.

Pero, ¿qué hace Cristo en la Eucaristía todo el tiempo, aun cuando no estamos recibiendo la Sagrada Comunión y cuando no estamos ofreciendo su Cuerpo y su Sangre al Padre para la salvación del mundo cuando asistimos a Misa? ¿Qué hace durante la Adoración Eucarística? ¿Qué está haciendo ahorita mismo?

Santo Tomás contesta esa pregunta con una sola palabra, una palabra maravillosa, en el himno eucarístico más perfecto que se haya escrito. El primer renglón es “Adoro Te devote, latens deitas, quae sub his figuris, vere latitas” (Devotamente te adoro, Dios escondido, oculto verdaderamente bajo estas apariencias). Aquella palabra, latitas, es la respuesta a nuestra pregunta, “¿Qué está haciendo Cristo allí?” Se está ocultando.

Ocultarse es un acto, no solo un estado estático de ser, sino una acción, una actividad, un acto libremente deseado que hace una diferencia, que cambia algo. Cuando nos ocultamos, cambiamos nuestra apariencia. Si no nos ocultáramos, estaríamos visibles; cuando nos ocultamos, hacemos algo, cambiamos algo, nos volvemos invisibles. Nos retiramos de las apariencias. Cuando dejamos de ocultarnos, no le sumamos nada a nuestro ser, sino que nos quitamos algo: nos quitamos nuestro disfraz, o nuestro escondite. Cesamos la acción de ocultarnos.

n our previous issue, Dr. Kreeft explored several important issues that arise when we consider the questions of “who” and “when” as they relate to Christ in the Eucharist. In this article, he will examine three final questions, to help us better understand the Church’s teaching concerning our Eucharistic Lord.

What?

What activity is Christ performing in the Eucharist? Obviously, he is acting on us and in us in Holy Communion, both in body and soul, since he enters us both in body and soul not just in order to be there, to be actual, but also to be active in us. He does stuff to us. He saves us from ourselves, he washes away our sins, he justifies and sanctifies us, and glorifies us. He gives us all graces, he makes us, gradually, what he made Mary suddenly and totally, namely “full of grace.” For us, this process is not completed and perfected in this life, as it was for Mary. But what God did to her, he does to us. He does—he is now at work doing—a far greater work than making the entire universe out of nothing: he is making saints out of sinners. The whole world is like that more-than-magical-box we call the confessional: Adam walks in and Jesus walks out. Christ does what only God can do: he creates in us a clean heart. He is performing heart surgery on us. He is what T.S. Eliot called “the wounded surgeon.” Holy Communion is heart surgery.

But what is Christ doing there in the Eucharist all the time, even when we are not receiving Holy Communion and when we are not offering his Body and Blood to the Father for the salvation of the world as we assist at the Mass? What is he doing there during Eucharistic adoration? And what is he doing right now?

St. Thomas answers that question in a single word, a wonderful word, in the most perfect and beautiful Eucharistic hymn ever written. The first line is “Adora te devote, latens deitas, quae sub his figuris vere latitas.” (Devoutly I adore thee, hidden deity, Who beneath these figures hideth there from me.) That word latitas is the answer to our question, “What is Christ doing there?” He is hiding.

The phrases “God from God” and “Light from Light” are used in the Nicene Creed which is recited at every Sunday Mass.

In Latin, the phrase “Light from Light” is lumen de lumine. The phrase appears in the very first section of the Creed:

"I believe in one God, the Father almighty, maker of heaven and earth, of all things visible and invisible. I believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ, the only begotten Son of God, born of the Father before all ages. God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, consubstantial with the Father; through him all things were made."

The Symbolum Nicaenum, or Nicene Creed, was first promulgated at the Council of Nicea (325), though in an abbreviated form from what we have today. St. Athanasius (296-373), the great bishop of Alexandria, attributes the composition of the Nicene Creed to a Papal Legate called Hossius of Cordoba. The Creed is also sometimes called the Nicene-Constantinoplian Creed since it appears in the Acts of the Council of Constantinople (381). It was formally promulgated at Chalcedon in 451 and has come down to us as our present Nicene Creed.

It was at the Councils of Nicea and Constantinople that the true nature of Jesus was defended against a multitude of heresies. In particular, the words “God from God” and “Light from Light” were aimed against the Arian heresy, which denied the pre-existence of Christ. Arius (c. 250-336), a priest from Alexandria, argued that the Father alone is God in the full sense and that the Son was a being created by the Father. This idea was also called “subordinationism.” The Councils, drawing upon the traditions handed down to them from the Apostles, condemned the heresy and declared that Jesus was indeed both true God and true man. Against Arius, the Nicene Creed reasserts the principle that Jesus Christ is not made by God and so is of the created order, but is instead of the same order of being as the Father: uncreated, eternal, and timeless. The Greek word “homo-ousios” (of the same being), or in Latin “consubstantialis” and now in the English version of the Creed “consubstantial,” was used to denote the relationship of God the Father to God the Son.

Nonetheless, Arianism remained a problem for well over a century. The whole of modern day France was infected with Arianism until King Clovis married Burgundian Princess Clotilde. In 496, Clotilde, who was not an Arian, convinced Clovis that Christ really was God. When Clovis converted to this position, some 4,000 of his soldiers followed him, and as a consequence Arianism died out in the Frankish kingdom. St. Clotilde is one of a number of saintly queens who used her influence with poorly catechised husbands to change the course of history in a decidedly Christian direction.

In what is perhaps the most foundational statement in all the Catechism of the Catholic Church, we read something puzzling: “The ultimate end of the whole divine economy is the entry of God's creatures into the perfect unity of the Blessed Trinity.”

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