Franciscan at Home

‘See; not a hair is, not an eyelash, not the least lash lost; every hair is, hair of head numbered.’

So often I find I can turn for inspiration for my catechesis to Gerard Manley Hopkins! The wonderful words quoted above are taken from a much-loved catechet
ical poem entitled The Golden Echo. Here we see mirrored the words from the Gospel of St. Luke, with Jesus reminding us to trust in the Father’s providence, and reassuring us that the Father will never forget us:

‘Why every hair on your head has been counted. There is no need to be afraid; you are worth more than hundreds of sparrows.’ (Lk.12:6-7)

The psalms also we can draw upon as an inspiration for catechesis. The psalms embrace the whole of creation. To pray the psalms is not only to recall the saving events of the past, but also to reach out far into the future, even as far as the end of time (cf CCC 2586). The psalms reflect God’s great deeds and also human experience in both sickness and health. Through our study of the psalms, we can find resources for a catechesis on the relationship that God has with the sick and elderly.

You go for a walk in the country late on an autumn evening. All around you is dark and cold. The soul feels quite alone in the dead space. Its desires for the living seeks all round, but nothing responds. The leafless tree, the cold hillside, the empty plain – all is dead! The soul is the only living thing in the wilderness. Then, suddenly, at a turn in the road, a light shines forth – Does it not call across to us? As if in answer to the seeking of the soul? As if something expected, something fitting?

Or you sit late in a darkening room. The walls stand grey and indifferent, the furniture is dumb. Then there comes a well-known step; a skilful hand applies a match to the fire; there is a crackling; a flame leaps up; and a red glow fills the room, and a cheerful warmth flows towards you. How everything is transformed! Everything has received a soul – as when a lifeless face suddenly becomes lit up with a friendly life.

Yes, fire is near akin to living. It is the purest symbol of our living soul, an image of all that we experience in our inner life, warm and shining, ever in motion, ever striving upwards.

This liturgical mediation is taken from Romano Guardini's book, Sacred Signs.

Natural space has three directions or dimensions as we know. They signify that we have orderly space and no chaos. The ordering is of things side by side, above and below, before and behind one another. The effects are that life can be built up in a rational way and can move; that we can construct and shape our dwellings, and live in them.

Supernatural space, sacred space, also has its due order. It is founded on mystery.

The Church is built from west to east, looking towards the rising sun; the chord of the sun’s arc, the zodiac, runs through it; it is intended to catch the first rays and the last. Christ is the sun of the sacred world; the direction of His course is the order of sacred space, of all building and shaping that is rightly ordered towards eternal life.

In this article Sr Hyacinthe examines the ways in which Notre Dame de Vie’s catechesis provides for an encounter with God to take place.

All catechesis can be thought of as a response to the fundamental human desire for God.

‘The desire for God is written in the human heart, because man is created by God and for God’[i]. God is the origin and finality of the human person. Catechesis should never be thought of as something imposed arbitrarily and somehow artificially on children and young people just because Christianity happens to be the religion in which they are brought up. Catechesis is rather there to answer a need which corresponds to a thirst, present in all human beings created for God.

The first part of this article explored this desire for God and introduced the catechetical work of Notre Dame de Vie, a French programme and approach which I believe engages in a profound way with this desire.

In this second part of the article I would like to examine how Notre Dame de Vie’s catechesis provides for this encounter with God to take place and recount some catechists’ experience in using the programme Viens, suis-moi, tracing its impact in the sacramental, moral and prayer life of the children, in these ecclesial expressions of the life of grace.

Intercessory prayer is important in catechesis because it is a prayer of charity in communion with Christ. The Israelites prayed in petition to experience the presence of God. “My being thirsts for God, the living God. When can I go and see the face of God.”[i] This prayer of the Israelites is fulfilled in Jesus Christ, who is the “one intercessor to the Father on behalf of all”[ii]. The early Christian community lived this bond of charity in the breaking of the bread, fellowship and prayer[iii] . The saints, in communion with Christ, also pray and intercede for us since this love and concern for all in the body of Christ does not cease after death. The holy men and women who are the “great cloud of witnesses”[iv] are “more closely united to Christ and do not cease to intercede with the Father for us”[v].

This prayer of petition leads us to pray as Jesus did.[vi] Jesus Christ is our mediator; therefore, we can intercede for others and ask others to pray and intercede for us. This is why it is so important to include intercessory prayer when we catechize. Intercessory prayer points to our Eucharistic celebration in the Prayers of the Faithful and in the Eucharistic Prayer “In communion with those whose memory we venerate, especially the glorious ever-Virgin Mary, Mother of our God and Lord, Jesus Christ, and blessed Joseph, her Spouse, your blessed Apostles and Martyrs…and all your Saints: we ask that through their merits and prayers, in all things we may be defended by your protecting help.”[vii]

In our catechetical sessions we introduce intercession by encouraging children’s vocalized prayers. Children willingly express their prayers to God. We can teach children that when we pray for others, this is an act of charity.

At the edge of a wood stands a larkspur, its deep green leaves characteristically rounded, and with delicately bending, yet firmly formed, slender, stem.  The blossom seems as if cut out of heavy silk, of a blue as deep as a gem, so that the whole air around seems filled with it.  Someone comes and plucks the flower, and then, getting tired of it, throws it on the fire.  In a few moments the whole bright splendour has become a small streak of grey ash.

Perhaps the greatest gift the Catechism of the Catholic Church makes to us is its presentation of what we can describe as a ‘dogmatic spirituality’. 

It is easy to think of dogma and spirituality, not only as irrelevant to each other, but somehow opposed. Dogma can be seen as hard, precise, unyielding. Spirituality, on the other hand, is often viewed as warm, welcoming, indefinable, mysterious.

In the Lord’s Prayer we address God as ‘Father’. Catechesis on God the Father is central to our transmission of the faith. Catechists are often asked about the analogy between earthly fathers and our heavenly Father – is God our Father like an earthly father? Less often do catechists think of the priest, this other earthly ‘father’ that Catholics have, and ask: Can the priest, whom we also call ‘father’, help us appreciate and understand God’s fatherhood more fully? Yet I believe this is a valuable key.

Many say that the father of a family is a ‘real’ father and the fatherhood of the priest is only ‘something similar’. It is also common to think that the word ‘father’ really applies to the father of a family and only by analogy do we apply the term to God, that God is also ‘something similar’.

The view is frequently heard, too, that married Catholic priests are, at last, able to be fathers in the true sense of the word and that rather than this be an exception, it should be an open possibility for all priests of the Catholic Church. Celibacy is understood here in negative terms as renunciation of ‘real fatherhood’.

I, however, would argue that not only the fatherhood of the Catholic priest but celibate fatherhood is the fullest form of fatherhood possible for man because this is closest to the Fatherhood of God. Let me explain.

On the Spot aims to highlight some of the complex positions, questions and comments experienced by Catechists, teachers and parents. It tries to outline the knowledge necessary to be faithful to Church teaching and which will best help those we teach who call us to account for the hope that is in us (cf 1 Peter 3:15).

In this issue, we look at the misconceptions, both literal and spiritual, which children sometimes hold concerning the Our Father, and consider some of the levels of meaning we can explore with them.

‘Our Father who are in Heaven, hello be my name, my king done come, my will be done...’ And that's before we even start on trespasses, temptation and deliver us from evil.

It takes a good deal of patient work with young children, as teachers and parents will testify, to simply instil the correct wording of the prayer into their heads, especially when the majority of the class or group are experiencing it for the first time.

In the Gospel, our Lord was approached by his disciples with the request, ‘Lord, teach us how to pray!’ (Lk 11:1). In response to this request, our Lord taught the first community of his disciples how we are to communicate with the Lord and Creator of the universe, someone we can not see, and someone whose voice we can not hear audibly and yet someone with whom we are called to be in relationship. Jesus taught his first disciples the Our Father.