Franciscan at Home

What do you remember of your first day of Grade One? My memory gave prophetic purpose and life-long value to my life! After taking roll and assigning seats to her 120 students (not a typographical error!), petite Sister St. Rose announced that our first lesson would be the most important lesson of our lives. She distributed our first catechism book and directed us to lesson one. With pencil in hand, we circled question numbers one, two, and three. Sister instructed us in the meaning of the words and told us to have our parents teach us how to say the words with our eyes closed. My mother proctored homework time. She amazed me when, without looking at the book, she knew the answers to the three questions. More amazing yet was dinner conversation that night. Mom said, “Pat, tell dad what you learned at school today.” I looked my dad straight in the eye and declared with conviction, “I learned why God made me.” Without skipping a beat my father proclaimed, “Pat, God made you to know him, to love him, and to serve him in this world, and to be happy with him forever in the next.” Dad’s reply had an exponential influence because he had justly earned the nickname of “Daddy Old Bad Boy.” Dad’s misbehaviors were legendary and yearly Santa Claus deposited coal in his stocking because of it. So, when this man knew why God made me, I embraced the belief hook, line, and sinker! Echoing the sentiment of Robert Frost1, “that has made all the difference.” Coming to know God—and growing in that knowledge and experience over time—is our universal call, our primary vocation. Knowledge of God and the ways of God leads to love. A person who does not love God does not know God! And whenever any of us love another person we can’t help but overflow into service for them. Prayer: Both Action and Attitude As “First Heralds of the Gospel”2 parents bear the privilege and the responsibility to introduce their children to God; to sensitize them to recognize the ways of God; to learn how to speak to God; to distinguish God’s voice and will from other voices; and to respond to God in age-appropriate ways. Prayer is the common thread for these goals. What is prayer? Definitions abound. Even Wikipedia weighs in on the topic. My core definition, and one that I offer to contemporary parents, comes from that same first grade catechism: “Prayer is the lifting of our minds and hearts to God.” Prayer can be vocal or mental, formal or informal, private or corporate, scheduled or spontaneous. Prayer changes through the ages and stages of one’s life, just as the quality and style of communication changes over time between persons who are growing in relationship. Prayer is communication with the One who knows us better than we know ourselves and Who loves us beyond our ability to comprehend such love. Consistently God communicates God’s love and life-giving will, though we are frequently unaware or inattentive. Often the busyness of life blocks recognition of God’s movements. The noises of our environment drown out the whispers of God’s love. Regardless of our awareness, God continues to speak, to reach out, and to offer friendship. Prayer is both an action and an attitude. Any person, place, stimulus, or event that lifts our minds and hearts to God can be a catalyst of prayer. Spiritual practices that are understood and faithfully embraced raise our spiritual consciousness. Environments, customs, and rituals that tutor the soul or recall God’s presence can stir holy desire and affection.

There is a scene in the film Good Will Hunting where Sean (Robin Williams) and Will (Matt Damon) share a pivotal conversation on a bench overlooking a swan-filled lake. The week before, Will quickly and incisively interprets a painting that Sean had created and hung in his office.

This article opens with stories of Jan Tyranowski and Karol Wojtyla, Saints Ignatius, Peter Faber and Francis Xavier to supply us with a picture of the value of real pastoral accompaniment, wherein a more personally directed style of formation takes place, either alongside traditional classroom catechesis, or, for a season at least, instead of the classroom lecture style of formation. Pastoral accompaniment, whether formal or informal, takes place when a spiritually experienced mentor walks with a less-experienced disciple through the steps of gaining maturity. It could be called a type of spiritual life-coaching. In recent years, the Holy Spirit has been calling for a renewal of pastoral accompaniment in the Church. Pastoral accompaniment is not the same as spiritual direction, although there are similarities and overlaps. The term “spiritual friendship” or “spiritual mentoring” might be more apt to convey the sense of what the Spirit seems to be inviting the Church to develop. Accompaniment happens when one who has been practicing the spiritual life with some intentionality advises another who wants to grow in the spiritual life.

This article is the first of a two-part discussion of an area of critical importance for those working in any ministry setting—clergy or laity—whose interactions with others require mentoring skills, evangelical hospitality, ongoing pastoral interactions in the course of catechetical work, small group facilitation, parenting, nurturing, and intercessory prayer outreach. This first article addresses pastoral accompaniment’s fundamental relation to good catechetics. The second article will explore practical and creative ways to implement such formation in ministry settings. “I never look at the masses as my responsibility; I look at the individual. I can only love one person at a time, just one, one, one… So you begin. I began – I picked up one person. Maybe if I didn't pick up that one person, I wouldn't have picked up forty-two thousand… The same thing goes for you, the same thing in your family, the same thing in your church, your community. Just begin – one, one, one.” ~ St. Teresa of Calcutta Did the early Church have emails, blogs, social websites, EWTN, publishing powerhouses that provided pamphlets, holy cards, books, CDs, DVDs, or even Bibles? Did the early Church have parish bulletins, flyers, posters, handouts, parishioner mailings, media racks, certified catechists, great circuit speakers from afar, even DREs? Did the early Church have lovely vestments, soaring art, beautiful baptismal fonts, gilded altars, glowing monstrances, well-designed hymnals, even church buildings? Did the early Church have devotional societies, knights, sodalities, bazaars, spaghetti dinners, golf tournaments, vacation Bible schools, elementary schools with professionally printed textbooks, private colleges filled with faithful professors, or even bingo? Did the early Church have highly developed devotional traditions, a calendar full of feast days, a liturgy that organizes Christ’s life for us, or even offertory envelopes? The point is not that any of this is in any way bad. The point is that the Church grew by leaps and bounds without any of it. All of that good stuff can be a huge help, but none of it can make up for the lack of people that seek to “pick up just one,” and not count the cost. What did the early Church have? 1) Apostles, 2) the first generation of bishops and priests and deacons, 3) a laity made up of people who were discipled in such a way that following Jesus and sharing Jesus were indistinguishable, 4) martyrs at all social levels and ages. All of this was made possible by two factors: people who lived as other Christs and sacramental grace to lift that witness beyond human weakness. St. Paul is frequently invoked as a person who would use all the modern forms of reaching out if they were available to him, but this would never replace him being sacrificially present to souls. Do you and I prioritize that?

As a young boy, my grandfather (kupuna kāne: KOO-poonah KAH-nay) taught me important and practical knowledge that was unique to island-living: fishing, taro farming, herb collecting for traditional Hawaiian medicines, and underground cooking with lava rocks and banana leaves. He also taught me, as generations before him had done, those ethical principles that guide Hawaiian culture. Some of these include: the importance of song (mele: may-lay) and storytelling (mo'olelo: moh-oh-lay-loh) in handing down our culture, the necessity of caring for the land (Mālama 'Āina: MAH-lah-mah AE-nah), and the indispensability of reconciliation, healing, and restoration (ho'oponopono: hoh-oh-poh-noh-poh-noh). Growing up before the age of Twitter and Facebook, I assumed that children all over the world learned these values. I did not realize that I was receiving an ancient and rare wisdom unique to the Hawaiian Islands. During my formative years at Franciscan University, the ancient wisdom of my Hawaiian heritage co-mingled with the universal truths and beauty of the Catholic faith that enlivened my understanding of and love for both. The more I learned about our rich Catholic faith, the more I realized that many of the lessons my grandfather taught me were the perfect primer for me to engage, understand, and internalize many eternal truths of the faith. It is as if God had inspired essential aspects of the Hawaiian pre-Christian culture I learned from my grandfather with values, significant expressions, and a living tradition that easily transitioned to original expressions of the Christian life, celebration, and thought. Searching the Depths of a Culture This reality is encompassed in the Catholic concept of “inculturation,” which, in short, is the process of examining the roots of a culture through the lens of the Gospel and to "bring the power of the Gospel into the very heart of culture and cultures.”[2] The term “inculturation” is taken from various documents of the Magisterium.[3] The concept of inculturation, though championed and elegantly explained in recent times by Pope St. John Paul II, is not new. The root of inculturation is the example of Christ himself. The Second Person of the Trinity was incarnated and inserted into the particular culture of a particular time. He engaged the apostles within their own culture and gave them the fullness of Truth. Within a century, they, in turn, spread the Gospel across Eurasia. Marks of their inculturation to the different peoples they evangelized can still be seen today in the glorious array of differing liturgical expressions throughout the 24 sui iuris churches that make up our Catholic Church in Hawaii.

"Behold, the Lamb of God!" Following Christ's baptism, the Gospel of John recounts how John the Baptist recognizes Jesus walking by and proclaims, "Behold, the Lamb of God!" Two of the Baptist's disciples, including Andrew, immediately follow Jesus and ask him, "Where are you staying?" to which the Lord replies, "Come and see." And "so they went … and stayed with him that day" (Jn 1:35-39). The passage beautifully illustrates the "dynamism of vocation" and the process of discernment among the first disciples of Jesus. Specifically it offers a paradigm for the manner by which Christ invites men to share in the grace of priestly ministry. Through the instrumentality of "prophetic witnesses," the Risen Jesus-who "continues working even now" (cf. Jn 5:17)-attracts new generations of "workers" into the harvest (Lk 10:2) and extends his gracious invitation to follow him into the "fields." In our own day, the Risen Christ continues to call men after his own heart to proclaim the Gospel and to feed, heal, and sanctify his people by the sacraments. So it should not be surprising that in each emerging generation there are those whose hearts are stirred by the invitation. Catechists and religion teachers, who are privileged to encounter and to instruct youth, should expect to see, and will invariably notice, particular young people who exhibit signs of being called. They will also see qualities, whether obvious or more intangible, that beg to be recognized for the sake of the one called and for the good of the Church. For many young men today, a catechist may, by God's design, play the role of John the Baptist in pointing out to them the Lamb of God and in awakening within them the gift of faith. The Experience of Being Called What is the experience of a man "being called" to follow Jesus as a priest? Well, there are as many differences in experience as there are "unique" souls. St. John of the Cross says, "God leads each one along different paths so that hardly one spirit will be found like another in even half its method of procedure." (Incidentally, our awareness of each soul's uniqueness and God's manner of communicating to it should instill in us a certain awe and respect toward those we assist and encourage, whether we do so as priest, religious, or catechist.) Notwithstanding the uniqueness of each man's experience, what is true for each man's experience is his growing fascination with the person of Jesus Christ and a heightened sense of Christ's particular love for him. This sense of particularity in the awareness of Christ's love can arise very early in one called to priesthood. I remember distinctively my summer Bible school classes at age 5 and listening attentively to the many stories of the Old Testament-the call of Abraham, the call of Samuel, the courage of David and Esther-that stirred my young imagination. The living Person of Jesus and his offer of friendship in the Gospel was made present to me through the joyful storytelling of my first grade teacher, Sr. Pat Hogan, O.P. of the Sparkill Dominicans, as well as through the witness of my parents' prayer at their weekly Charismatic Renewal meetings in my local parish, St. Gregory Barbarigo in Garnerville, NY. This saying is true: "Modern man listens more willingly to witnesses than to teachers, and if he does listen to teachers, it is because they are witnesses." Confirmed by the example of those whom I revered-my parents, my teachers, parish priests and religious, and devout parishioners-I very quickly made their enthusiasm toward Jesus my own and I soon moved from an observer to a worshipper. Fascination with the goodness and beauty of Jesus beckons the one called to seek deeper intimacy with Jesus in prayer and often corresponds with a growing interest in the Eucharistic Presence and the sacramental life of the Church. Just as Andrew and the other disciple are moved to inquire of Jesus, "Where are you staying?" so, too, the one called to priesthood glimpses his deepest truth reflected in the Lamb of God and hungers to better know him. The call narratives in the Scriptures (especially in the Gospels) resonate within, appealing for a personal response to the solicitous love of Jesus the Good Shepherd. At the core of discerning a vocation lies the fundamental questions: How is God calling me to give of myself for love of God and love of others? How is Jesus calling me to reveal his heart to the world? For the future priest, Christ's invitation to "come and see" appeals to his freedom and dilates his heart, impelled as he is by the example of Christ's boundless love, to likewise minister for the sake of the Gospel and to become an "ambassador for Christ" (cf. 2 Cor 5:20).

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.

In 2005, the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops published The National Directory for Catechesis, which states, “each person with a disability has catechetical needs that the Christian community must recognize and meet. All baptized persons with disabilities have a right to adequate catechesis and deserve the means to develop a relationship with God.”[1] My interest and involvement in the religious formation of children with disabilities has its roots in personal experience. As I searched for answers about what was best for our family, I found that our story was common; and though some students are being catechized at home, students absent from their parish faith formation programs are missing a fundamental element of the Christian faith: community.

Where are the Children with Disabilities?
Like most parents, I never imagined my child would need special education. My husband and I had a dream and a goal to educate our children in Catholic schools for grades K-12. When our fifth child, Grace, entered kindergarten that dream began to crumble. I knew, from her first day, Grace would need extra help staying seated, lining up, and waiting her turn. What I didn’t realize was that her lack of eye contact, inability to remember the names of extended family, and obsession with dinosaurs were indicators of an Autism Spectrum Disorder, a diagnosis we would not receive until the summer after her kindergarten year. Gracie’s deficits in communication skills were seen as disrespect, her lack of social skills as unkindness towards classmates, and her sensory sensitivities as immature, even wild behavior. My husband and I made the decision then to let go of our dream, and Grace joined the 13 percent of students who receive special education services in public school.[2] We knew that we needed to provide our child with her faith formation; we chose to home school in the beginning. For three years we taught Grace and prepared her for First Reconciliation and First Communion using our parish faith formation program materials.

Public school students comprise the majority of the children who attend Catholic faith formation programs. If 13% of children in public school receive special education services, it would be fair to assume that 13 % (1 in every 8) of the students in faith formation programs require some kind of educational support to optimize their learning outcomes. John Paul II defined the optimal learning outcome for religious education: “The definitive aim of catechesis is to put people not only in touch, but also in communion and intimacy, with Jesus Christ…”[3] In the Catholic tradition, this also includes the preparation and reception of the Sacraments of Reconciliation, Eucharist, and Confirmation.

The numbers of students with disabilities in our faith formation programs do not match the statistics. Parents may be withholding information about their children’s needs or not enrolling them at all. The reasons for this vary. Parents of children with disabilities often have many additional obligations in the care of their children. There are medical appointments, therapy appointments, and additional meetings each school year with teachers and support staff at the child’s school. Some parents may just be at the limit of what they can manage. Some families may have already experienced rejection from their faith community and believe that their parish faith formation program cannot or will not accommodate their child’s needs.[4] Children with disabilities must be included in Catholic faith formation programs. Getting them there is a matter of creating inclusive Christian communities that will welcome children with disabilities and their families.

Luego de una larga sucesión de documentos magisteriales orientados a la importancia de un ambiente comunitario que fomente el cultivo de la vocación de cada miembro[1], el Documento Preparatorio de la próxima XV Asamblea General Ordinaria del Sínodo de los Obispos, “Los jóvenes, la fe y el discernimiento vocacional” [2], declara:

"Toda la comunidad cristiana debe sentirse responsable de la tarea de educar a las nuevas generaciones y debemos reconocer que son muchas las figuras de cristianos que la asumen, empezando por quienes se comprometen dentro de la vida eclesial. […] En todas las partes del mundo existen parroquias, congregaciones religiosas, asociaciones, movimientos y realidades eclesiales capaces de proyectar y ofrecer a los jóvenes experiencias de crecimiento y de discernimiento realmente significativas."[3]

A lo largo de mis años de servicio en el ministerio, en todas las pláticas que he escuchado, y aun las que en ocasiones he dado, el enfoque suele orientarse al cultivo de la propia vida espiritual por medio de la oración personal y la vida sacramental de la Iglesia. Aparte de la importancia de la vida espiritual[4], y sin restarle nada a la necesidad del acompañamiento en el discernimiento, lo cual es un tema central del Documento Preparatorio[5], quisiera enfocar una realidad frecuentemente olvidada en el campo del discernimiento vocacional: la comunidad. Ya que el próximo Sínodo centrará la atención en la juventud, dirijo mis pensamientos a las comunidades de adultos quienes atienden o enseñan a los jóvenes (por ej. equipos nucleares de pastoral juvenil, catequistas, profesores de escuela, etc.).

En lugar de citar múltiples razones por las que una comunidad de discernimiento sea esencial en el discernimiento vocacional, quisiera mejor proporcionar algunas consideraciones para el cultivo de este tipo de comunidad. El Documento Preparatorio resalta esta necesidad, ya que dice:

"A veces esta dimensión proyectiva [de experiencias de crecimiento y de discernimiento para los jóvenes] deja espacio a la improvisación y a la incompetencia: es un riesgo del cual defenderse tomando cada vez más en serio la tarea de pensar, concretizar, coordinar y realizar la pastoral juvenil de modo correcto, coherente y eficaz. Aquí también se impone la necesidad de una preparación específica y continua de los formadores."[6]

No me declaro experto en el tema, ni puedo proporcionar un “plan pastoral” comprensivo, pero sí me daba cuenta de la importancia del cultivo de una comunidad que conduzca al discernimiento vocacional durante mi tiempo como agente de la pastoral juvenil rodeado de un equipo de adultos voluntarios. Apoyándome principalmente en mi propia experiencia en la pastoral juvenil, quizás algunas de mis percepciones puedan servir como catalizador para cultivar un ambiente comunitario que fomente el discernimiento vocacional. Aunque mis ejemplos provengan de la pastoral juvenil parroquial y una comunidad de voluntarios que prestan su servicio en el marco de un equipo nuclear, muchas de estas nociones son también aplicables a otras organizaciones o estructuras parroquiales o escolares, e incluso a la misma familia.

Following a long line of magisterial documents that address the importance of a communal environment conducive to fostering one's vocation,[1] the Preparatory Document <