Franciscan at Home

Sarah: aged and barren. Joseph: rejected, betrayed, and enslaved. Moses: desperately cast afloat in a basket. Daniel: sent to death by lions. Mary: unknown, unmarried, unbelieved.

Salvation history is the story of the poor ones, the bowed down, the lowly—the anawim, as they are named in Hebrew. In both the Old Testament and the New, God tends to the impoverished, the helpless, and the abandoned with special care and favor. The widows, the orphans, the outcasts—they have nothing, and God chooses them to receive everything.

Poverty is also a central thread of the Incarnation. Jesus came in the poverty of a stable. Poor shepherds received the Good News first, before any wealthy king or powerful governor. When Jesus began his public ministry, he reached out to the disregarded children, the lame, the blind, the social pariahs, and especially the poor souls exiled in sin. Jesus lived humbly and ultimately gave himself to the darkest poverty of death.

But Easter changed everything! The Resurrection exploded the darkness and opened the eternal treasure of heaven. After the Ascension and Pentecost, the spirit-enflamed disciples pursued this treasure even as they, too, were rejected, persecuted, and ultimately martyred.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church tells us that receiving the Eucharist “commits us to the poor” (1397). Why is this so?

Receiving the Eucharist means that we enter into union with the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity. And being in Holy Communion with Jesus himself means something profound. Let’s consider one facet of this great mystery.

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As I write this article, I'm nursing the tail end of a mild bout of COVID-19. I don’t share that for pity but to point out how much the world has changed in the past few years. Before this decade, I didn't know what a novel coronavirus was. Everything I understood about pandemics was mainly picked up from disaster movies. Social distancing was only a dream my introverted wife possessed in her heart. And the virus that demanded fear as it first swept across the planet is now so common that it's possible to write an article while infected. Though we can celebrate the medical advances and technology that have helped us fight COVID-19, as the dust still settles on the pandemic, we are just now getting a real glimpse of how all this has affected today’s youth.

The CDC recently released a study revealing that over one-third of high schoolers have experienced poor mental health since the pandemic. At the same time, almost half acknowledge a persistent feeling of sadness or hopelessness.[i] Perhaps these stats are surprising, or maybe they are not; teens’ general mental health and well-being were on the decline long before COVID-19. However, we would be remiss if we failed to acknowledge the unique needs that young people now face. Though vaccinations and vitamins may combat the virus, it will take something far more powerful to heal these more profound ailments now facing teens’ interior life. To find the answers to the deepest sorrows of this life, we must turn our minds to the next one. The virtue of hope helps us do just that.

[i] Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, “New CDC data illuminate youth mental health threats during the COVID-19 pandemic,” CDC Newsroom, March 31, 2022, https://www.cdc.gov/media/releases/2022/p0331-youth-mental-health-covid-...

The Theology of the Body (TOB) catechesis[i] culminates with profound teachings on responsible parenthood and a vigorous defense of Humanae vitae, but St. John Paul II equally proclaimed the depth and importance of the unitive aspect of marriage. In fact, nearly half of the TOB reflections are based directly on Jesus’ teachings on the indissolubility of marriage (TOB 1–23, based on Mt 19) and the monogamy of marriage (TOB 24–63, based on Mt 5). While emphasizing the inseparability between the procreative and unitive aspects, a key teaching of Humanae vitae, St. John Paul II also provided a profound way to understand the enormous personal value of unity for man and woman precisely as persons made in the image of God.

By highlighting the meaning of marital unity beyond the juridical level through his focus on the total self-giving and personal communion at the center of Christian marriage, he also gave us some clear criteria for understanding the essential difference between marital sex and premarital sex. This installment of the series describes that essential difference and why our theology says that couples must wait for marriage to begin their sexual life together.

[i] John Paul II, Man and Woman He Created Them: A Theology of the Body, trans. Michael Waldstein (Boston: Pauline Books and Media, 2006), hereafter cited parenthetically in text as TOB.

Don’t scientists, believers, nonbelievers, liberals, and conservatives alike all rejoice in the splendor of creation? Don’t we all wonder about stars that shine lightyears away? About the depths of the ocean swarming with fluorescent fish and star-shaped creatures? About the hummingbird whose wings flap in song while she drinks nectar to satiety? Not only do we experience joy and wonder as we contemplate creation, we also have an innate longing to discover. We long to discover the mysteries of creation and thus uncover the mysteries of God. And this, I’d argue, is true for most people—regardless of their religious belief, nonbelief, or affiliation.

Why is it important to recognize this universal appreciation of nature? God is an artist, and creation is his artwork.[i] My cousin, who was a seminarian at the time, described this idea to me years ago while we walked along the coast of Maine, amid misty harbor air and abundant wildflowers. Just as we can learn about artists from their work, we also can learn about God from his creation. How exciting, then, that so many people are captivated by nature; so many spend their lives studying creation. For many, evangelization might begin with these moments of joy and wonder.

[i] Robert Barron, “God as Artist,” Angelicum 80, no. 2 (February 1, 2003): 403–16.

The water is poured and the words are said: “I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” As I approach the newly baptized baby held in the arms of his mother or father, I bow, make the sign of the cross, and venerate (kiss) the child as I would an icon. Doing so, I venerate Jesus Christ present in this child. The child, having been washed of sin, filled with the Holy Spirit, and clothed in Christ, is now a holy image of him who is the perfect image of the Father.

As the child grows, the image may become tarnished, but it will remain. Just as a work of art is restored, so too the Sacrament of Reconciliation restores the image of Christ in us—washing away the grime and mending brokenness so that the light of Jesus Christ, truly present in us, may shine forth in the world.

“The Father and I are one. . . . Remain in me, as I remain in you” (Jn 10:30; 15:4). In the reception of the Holy Eucharist, our Lord, one with the Father in the unity of the Holy Spirit, comes into us in a wholly unique manner and draws us unfathomably within himself. The presence of Jesus Christ in the Holy Eucharist is of a completely different type than his presence elsewhere. It is substantial; it is of his essence. When we say that Jesus Christ is truly present in the Blessed Sacrament, what we mean is that the Blessed Sacrament is Jesus Christ. While the visible form of bread and wine remain, it is him—not a sign pointing to him, not an object that mediates grace (e.g., a miraculous medal, the brown scapular)—it is Jesus himself.

Catechetical Committees of the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops, 1992–2012

This series of articles seeks to explore an extraordinary fifty-year period in the history of the Church’s catechetical mission. We have already looked briefly at the outcomes of the International Catechetical Study Weeks, the General Catechetical Directory (1971), Evangelii Nuntiandi (1974) and Catechesi Tradendae (1979), Sharing the Light of Faith: National Catechetical Directory of Catholics in the United States (1979), The Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults (1987), and the Catechism of the Catholic Church (1993). In this article, we will turn our attention to the remarkable developments within the structure of the U.S. Bishops Conference that accompanied the Church’s publication of these documents, as well as the historic renewal of her catechetical ministry.

Just as the composition of the Informative Dossier for the Catechism of the Catholic Church was being completed by the staff of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF) in 1992, the bishops of the United States voted to form an Ad Hoc Committee to Oversee the Implementation of the Catechism in the United States. The chair of the Committee was Bishop Edward Hughes of Metuchen. “The mandate of the ad hoc committee was twofold: to prepare for the reception of the Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC) in the United States and to assist the bishops of the United States in planning its implementation in their (arch)dioceses.”[i]

The Catechism itself was still more than a year away from the Holy Father’s approval, but both the Holy See and the U.S. bishops were preparing for its publication—the Vatican by preparing the Informative Dossier and the American bishops by establishing a committee to provide for its oversight. These two decisions would prove to be instrumental in paving the way for the favorable reception of the Catechism worldwide and, in a special way, in the United States.

There was no small amount of resistance at the time to the publication of a “universal catechism.” Especially among the ranks of some established national, diocesan, and parish catechetical leaders in the United States, the concept of a single catechism that would be pastorally applicable to all Catholics throughout the world was not possible, let alone desirable. The significant advances that had been made in the necessary inculturation of the Christian message in such documents as Evangelii Nuntiandi, Catechesi Tradendae, the Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults, and several of Pope John Paul II’s encyclicals seemed to argue against a “universal” catechism.

At the same time, in the minds of many in the United States, the use of the word “catechism” conjured images of outmoded and ineffective catechetical methodologies. It reminded many of the Baltimore Catechism, which taught in a question-and-answer format and was intended to be committed to memory. The Baltimore Catechism and other similar instruments had been replaced in favor of materials that were age-appropriate and suitably adapted to the conditions of the person being catechized.

The shorthand designation of “universal catechism,” however, can be misleading. In fact, the mandate given by Pope John Paul II was for a catechism for the universal Church, not a universal catechism. This distinction is important. It is true that there can be only one catechism for the Church throughout the world because the Church holds and teaches the same truth in every place. But a catechism for the universal Church must be the point of reference for the development of national or regional catechisms and other types of catechetical materials. Such catechisms and catechetical materials must be prepared in light of both the catechism of the universal Church and the particularities of the individual cultures in which they will be used. They have to adapt their teaching to the capacity of those who receive it but, at the same time, must transmit the fullness of the truth that God intends to communicate in his self-revelation. In his remarks to the Catechism Commission in 1986, Pope John Paul II addressed this issue:

The catechism which you are called to plan is situated within the church’s great tradition, not as a substitute for diocesan or national catechisms, but as a “point of reference” for them. It is not meant to be, therefore, an instrument of flat “uniformity,” but an important aid to guarantee the “unity in the faith” that is an essential dimension of that unity of the church which “springs from the unity of the Father, of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.”[ii]

Having realized the growing need for a process of Christian Initiation for Families at our parish that serves unbaptized children of catechetical age and their parents, we have developed, implemented, and continue to fine-tune our rescue mission using a family approach for our mid-sized parish. One of the adjustments made is we now refer to the process as “Christian Initiation for Families” rather than “RCIA Adapted for Families.” “RCIA” is insider language, and, since we are hoping to attract entire families along with their unbaptized children, we realized that although they may not know what RCIA is, they will usually understand the title “Christian Initiation.”

In issues 7.1 and 7.2 of The Catechetical Review, there is a two-part article titled “RCIA Adapted for Families: It’s All About the Parents.”[1] Indeed, it is. The value of evangelizing parents is confirmed over and over for us as we continue to unfold the crucial mission of the Church in this, our time in salvation history.

Part one of the article spoke of the grace of the sacraments lying dormant in the souls of the parents due to a lack of response. It also considered the term quasi-catechumen coined by Pope St. John Paul II in Catechesi Tradendae[2] and used in the Directory for Catechesis,[3] identifying “adults who, although they have been baptized, have not been adequately formed.” The directory then went on to emphasize the effectiveness of using a “catechesis of catechumenal inspiration,” as stated in the Directory, “for those who have received the sacraments of initiation but are not yet sufficiently evangelized or catechized, or for those who desire to resume the journey of faith.”[4]

What we have discovered in practice is that although it is true the parents have not been “sufficiently evangelized or catechized,” they do not necessarily desire to resume their journey of faith when bringing their older children for baptism. The desire for relationship with Christ implanted by God in their souls needs to be enkindled. In other words, although we can be certain the desire is present, they do not perceive it. Nor will they, unless it is awakened by others who are already burning with this desire.

As another Holy Day of obligation rolls by, the question arises once again about the wisdom and sustainability of current Mass provision in our Catholic schools in Scotland. In our Cathedral parish here in Motherwell, we have three Sunday Masses, but between us as clergy we normally celebrate eight Masses on Holy Days, mainly in school settings, with varying degrees of enthusiasm and participation on the part of pupils. What is the point? Are we (as is often argued) sacramentalizing pupils who have never been evangelized, never mind catechized? In addition, as Catholic schools worldwide also become increasingly multi-faith—with, for example, 20 percent of non-Catholic pupils in Catholic schools today in the U.S. compared with 5 percent in 1972—is compulsory Mass attendance responding to the spiritual needs of all pupils?[1] And how can we strike a balance between the school’s responsibility to celebrate liturgically and the freedom of individual members to either embrace or opt out of such celebrations?

[1] National Catholic Educational Association (2022) Data Brief: 2021-22 Catholic School Enrollment, 1. https://images.magnetmail.net/images/clients/NCEA1/attach/Data_Brief_22_...