Franciscan at Home

This month of October marks the 30th Anniversary of Pope John Paul’s great letter to the Church on catechesis, Catechesi Tradendae. It was this letter that describes Mary as ‘the mother and model of catechists’ Here Gary Sullivan reflects on Mary’s life as a catechetical journey.

She never planned a lesson or used a grade book. Chalkboards had yet to be invented, not to mention whiteboards. She never clicked a power point or used an overhead; but Our Lady revolutionized catechetical instruction. By employing the most essential catechetical tools Mary was way ahead of her time. She is the primordial catechist. In her example we find the marrow of catechesis. What she models to the modern catechist is the example of the correct posture which yields the most fruit. No one can argue with the results we find in her prize student.

Telling the life and story of Jesus is central for the learning of our students.

One of the privileges of a religion teacher or catechist is that of being a teller of the story of Jesus. So conscious was Sunday school teacher, Joseph Bayly, of this honour that he simply called the book he wrote about his teaching experiences, I Love to Tell the Story. The inspiration for this title came from an evangelical hymn of the same name that contained the uplifting lines: ‘I love to tell the story of unseen things above, of Jesus and his glory, of Jesus and his love. I love to tell the story because I know its true; it satisfies my longings as nothing else can do.’ This title captures well the mission of religion teachers as they endeavour to form the faith of young believers. Consciousness of oneself as a teller of the story of Jesus can be energizing. However, telling the story is but part of a sequence in the journey of the religious educator. The first step is that of hearing the story. But even this, on its own, is not enough. It needs to be authenticated by a genuine attempt to live the story. These three elements of hearing, living and knowing need closer exploration.

In this issue we complete our introduction to John Paul II’s prophetic document on the Gospel of Life.

One of the most important initiatives of Pope John Paul II was his call for a ‘new evangelization’—a rekindling of the primary mission of the Church to proclaim, by word and deed, the Good News of Jesus Christ to all people. This would include the proclamation of the Gospel to those peoples and cultures which had received the Gospel in the past, but have ‘fallen away,’ (hence the need for ‘re-evangelization’).

In the final chapter of Evangelium Vitae, Pope John Paul reminds us of the Church’s identity as ‘the people of life and for life… because God, in his unconditional love, has given us the Gospel of life’ (78.3; 79.1). I am reminded of powerful words in the Gospel of John in which Jesus contrasts the thief ‘who comes only to steal and kill and destroy’ with himself, the Good Shepherd who said, ‘I came that they may have life and have it abundantly’ (Jn 10:10). Most of this encyclical has focused on the monumental struggle between the ‘culture of death,’ which like the thief ‘comes only to steal and kill and destroy’, and the mission of Jesus and the Church to bring and protect life. This final section focuses on the positive mission of the Church to promote a ‘new culture of human life’.

The Love of the Father reaches out to every person. Nothing is outside of the mission of the Son and the Spirit, who have been sent among us to draw the whole of creation back to the Father’s house. This inclusiveness is fundamental to the Gospel. The Church announces the Good News in which the Father has acted ‘far beyond all expectation’, sending his own beloved Son (CCC 422). The Catechism quotes from the ninth century Council of Quiercy, ‘There is not, never has been, and never will be a single human being for whom Christ did not suffer’ (cited in CCC 605).

There can be an opposition set up in the minds of some, however, between what is rightly seen as this essential inclusiveness of the Gospel and the teaching of doctrine and morals.

Sometimes, of course, it is not the fact of teaching itself so much as the manner in which the teaching is given which is problematic, and this important point should always be given attention in catechesis: the manner of our teaching follows the pedagogy of God himself, who is respectful of our dignity and our freedom in the ways in which he addresses us. The General Directory for Catechesis signals some of the features of an authentic catechetical ‘manner’ for us: catechesis ‘proposes’ the Gospel; it ‘transforms the processes of intelligence, conscience, liberty and action’; it remembers that belief is ‘a fruit of grace and liberty’, and so on (see GDC Part III for numerous indications).

The Complete, Compact Catechist Prayerbook

Reflecting on Sr. Mary Michael’s article in this issue of The Sower, “The Spirituality of the Catechist”, I realized that many of us involved in catechesis identify with the “hallmarks of the catechist spirituality”. However, we may also contend that we don’t have time to go to daily Mass or pray the Liturgy of the Hours, and some of our volunteer catechists may not even know what the Liturgy of the Hours is. Does that mean we are “disqualified” or “unqualified” as catechists? No, it just means we need to be more creative.

When I was Confirmation Coordinator of our parish, in the pre-children stage of my life, Mass and meditation were part of my daily routine. Now, married with six children ages 10 to 2, my time is no longer my own. My path to holiness comes through being a wife, mother, housekeeper, laundress, tutor, chauffer, referee, cook and catechist, not to mention a catechetical publications director. In this day and age we are all multi-tasking, but this busy activity of doing God’s will needs to flow from the “wellspring of worship”, as Sr. Michael noted.

The monthly publication Magnificat has been the creative resource that allows me to continue to pray weekday Mass, without being physically present in the pew. More than a missalette, Magnificat is also the busy layman’s Liturgy of the Hours, giving an abbreviated version of that which priests and religious use.

Eric Westby offers sound, practical advice for ways in which we can evangelize in our catechetical work.

I know I am not the only catechist who has prepared what I thought was the greatest catechetical session since the Sermon on the Mount, only to have it help the participants cure their most recent battles with insomnia. Over the years, as I have seen little impact from what I thought were well-planned sessions, it has forced me to look more closely at the process of conversion, specifically that which we do to prepare a person to hear the Good News. In Catechesi Tradendae 20, Pope John Paul II describes catechesis as a maturation of the process of evangelization. As a catechist, the better I assisted in the process of evangelization (the better I helped a person know, love and follow the Lord Jesus) the easier it became to catechize that person. In this article, I would like to offer practical ways we can evangelize in our catechetical endeavors, and in doing so, prepare the foundation for catechesis and lifelong conversion.

While finishing a postgraduate specialization in catechetics, I had the delight of getting to know a number of young, up-and-coming catechists who would boast of possessing one or another spirituality. ‘Sister, I just love Saint Dominic!’ one would brag. ‘Therese is my girl!’ beamed another. ‘I’m a die-hard Ignatian,’ declared a third. And always there were plenty of those carefree souls who follow the Poverello from Assisi!

As I spent more and more time with these eager young people, I found myself trying to show them that, while each of the various spiritualities in the Church has its own particular ‘flavor,’ as future catechists they would need first to develop a taste for the particular ‘spirituality of the catechist.’ Unlike the ‘Dominican’ or the ‘Franciscan,’ the ‘catechist’ has no founder as such from whom to draw a specific charism. Instead, the spirituality of the catechist ‘springs from (his) vocation and mission.’ [i]

Is the doctrine of the Holy Trinity actually taught any more? This may sound like an alarmist question. One would imagine that the sign of the cross and its accompanying words, ‘In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, Amen’, are still used and explained by the vast majority of Catholic parents, catechists and teachers. Sadly, this is not as common as one might have presumed in the past. In many catechetical resources circulating in Britain the Blessed Trinity is no longer mentioned at all. In this article I’ll be highlighting three simple points: a) that the Trinity is still being eliminated from some Catholic teaching materials, b) that this matters, and c) that we can know the reasons why the Trinity is not being taught and can thus retrieve effectively the very foundation of Christian faith, hope and love.

The Editor of The Sower recently revealed the following statistic: The Report of the Bishops’ Conference of England and Wales Working Party on Sacramental Initiation, On the Threshold, ‘manages to compile a 66 page report of recommendations about RCIA without once referring to the Trinity, to the Father, to the Son or to the Holy Spirit’.[i] The text uses unvaryingly the word ‘God’ throughout. Another document, from the Catholic Education Service, called, On the Way to Life,[ii] subtitled, ‘a framework for Catholic Education, Catechesis and Formation’, in its 99 pages, mentions the Trinity only once and that is in a quotation from Pope John Paul II. An electronic search of the document for ‘God the Father’ reveals that the phrase appears only twice and each time as part of the title of Mary Daly’s book, Beyond God the Father![iii]

Of course, these are not catechetical programmes in themselves but guidance documents. Surely, you might say, actual sacramental programmes will be imbued with references to the persons of the Trinity? At a recent diocesan day for catechists it was discovered that, in the participants’ examples of catechesis of the Christmas story, not a single catechist present referred to Jesus either as God or as the Son of God. Such catechesis about Christmas will be portrayed as a story of a strangely extraordinary man (or baby) if it is not explicitly taught that Jesus is God become man, Son of God sent by his Father in the power of the Holy Spirit. More and more frequently one finds catechetical texts referring to ‘Jesus’ and to ‘God’ and ‘Jesus praying to God’ as though he were a man like us and not God, or with a special relationship (never explained) with God.

There are, then, different ways of not teaching the doctrine of the Trinity. One, as we have seen, is by omission; the other is by teaching heresy. For example, the adult formation programme for the Archdiocese of Westminster, At Your Word Lord, began with a session on the Trinity as ‘three aspects’ of the one God. These three aspects, it continues, have a loving relationship with each other. The notion of aspects rather than persons having a loving relationship, sadly increases the confusion. Resources for Children’s liturgy in the United Kingdom almost invariably teach children the heresy of modalism on Trinity Sunday, prompting children to draw (or even wear in the offertory procession) three different types of hat.

This is a regular feature highlighting some of the difficult questions experienced by catechists, teachers and parents who are put ‘on the spot’ by those they are teaching. How can an understanding of sacramentality help us when we are in dialogue with non-Catholic Christians who can find this central aspect of our faith bewildering?

She has been a member of the Church of England all her life – almost sixty years. As a young woman she experienced a conversion which enriched her faith, and since that time she has attended Sunday worship regularly and is deeply involved in many aspects of Anglican life, both spiritual and practical. We are able to speak of our faith to each other, albeit in either superficial or social terms, but I had assumed we stood on common ground in rather more areas than proved to be the case. In the course of a recent conversation in which I had mentioned some aspect of Church teaching on the Sacraments, she turned to me in utter confusion.

‘What’s a sacrament anyway?’ she asked. ‘I don’t understand what you mean by a sacrament.’

It seems that we do not always stand on solid ground when we assume other Christians understand what we mean by a sacrament, ‘sacramentality’ or the connection this effects between God and ourselves. Sacraments were dismissed at the Reformation as ‘dead works’ and seem to have an uncertain and ambiguous meaning for many of our fellow Christians – Christians who are part of our families, our schools and our daily lives.

As we begin the Year of St Paul, Alan Schreck assists us in our appreciation of the saints as the greatest educators.

The greatest teachers of the Catholic Church are her saints. True, many of them were not articulate or great preachers, and some were even illiterate. Nevertheless, they are recognised as ‘saints’ because their lives provide us with the clearest and the best instruction in what the Christian life is all about. And what is it all about? In a single word: Holiness, which means becoming like God in character and virtue. What does holiness look like? We see it most perfectly displayed in the Son of God incarnate (God among us in person, or literally ‘in the flesh’), Jesus Christ. But a nearly perfect reflection of holiness, the character and virtue of God himself, is seen in the saints. The saints teach us most fully what God intended us all to be and to become - truly God-like.

If we look at the ‘reflection’ of God in the saints, we don’t find just a single image or portrait, but a marvellous collage of images of God and his love as different as the sun and the moon, or as mountains and the ocean. There were saints who were kings and queens, and beggars; great intellectuals, and simple priests (like St. John Vianney) who couldn’t learn their Latin; girls and boys and octogenarians; world-traversing missionaries and mystics in their cloisters; bloodstained martyrs and ‘clowns’ of God (like St. Philip Neri). There were soldiers (from St. George to St. Joan), prophets and prophetesses, religious foundresses and mothers, servants of the poor and needy...yes, and even some who were teachers by profession. What they all have in common is a passionate love of God that grew in their souls and finally burst into full blossom. Marvellously, there is a saint for everybody - some saint whose life and experience will uniquely touch a particular person and open them more fully to God. The saints remind us of what we are all made for.