Franciscan at Home

The vast majority of catechists today take part in this essential ministry in the life and mission of the Church for a simple yet significant reason: they have a passion for handing on our faith, for doing their part to form vibrant, radical disciples of Jesus Christ. They burn with a missionary zeal to lead and accompany others—men, women, families, young adults, teens, and children—ever closer to Jesus in and through his Church (cf. CCC 4). They have been captivated by him and have entered into relationship with him themselves, and in turn they want others to experience what they have experienced: the beauty and power that comes from knowing the one true God and Christ Jesus, whom he has sent.[i]

Many catechists perform this work as a volunteer in their parish for years or even decades. In some cases, however, those with a passion for catechetical ministry find themselves not engaging in the work of catechesis directly but rather with a primary focus of forming and leading those who do. This, of course, is the parish or diocesan catechetical leader.

The Responsibility of the Catechetical Leader

It is an honor, a privilege, and a great responsibility to serve as a catechetical leader, and those who take on this role recognize the importance of the part they are playing in the mission of the Church to make disciples (see Mt 28:19–20). To be able to deepen the faith, skill, and ability of catechists in a parish or diocese is a special kind of gift.

For some catechetical leaders, though, serving in this important role can, over time, take on an unexpected weight: the administrative duties and responsibilities the work entails. In some cases, that weight even becomes a burden.

Again, most catechists’ deep desire and joy is to be able to participate in the Church’s mission to make disciples. But most catechetical leaders’ participation in that mission isn’t as “direct” as is the typical catechist’s, or at least not in the way that most of those involved in catechetical ministry imagine it. The role of the catechetical leader oftentimes entails much more “desk work” and many more meetings, phone calls, emails, and so on. In other words, what many people think of as administrative work. And because this isn’t necessarily what someone with a zeal for catechesis signed up for, the excitement and enthusiasm for the work can diminish and be replaced with burden and burnout.

I began professional work in the Church at the age of eighteen. I had experienced a profound personal conversion in high school, had taken my first steps as a missionary disciple, and was growing in the Christian life. So, my pastor offered me a job as a parish youth minister. 

Mark your calendar for the upcoming 2024 Steubenville Conferences for adults, held on our beautiful campus in Steubenville, OH. Registration will open in late January, 2024. NOTE: The St. John Bosco Conference for Evangelization & Catechesis is being postponed until summer of 2025 because of our involvement with the National Eucharistic Congress. Hope to see you there! Questions? Call 740-283-6315.

Part Seven: the Compendium of the Catechism of the Catholic Church (2005) and the United States Catholic Catechism for Adults (2006)

This series of articles has explored 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), the Catechetical Committees of the US Conference of Catholic Bishops 1992– 2012, and the General Directory of Catechesis (1997) and the National Directory for Catechesis (2005). In this final article of the series, we will turn our attention to the Compendium of the Catechism of the Catholic Church (2005) and the United States Catholic Catechism for Adults (2006).

Compendium of the Catechism of the Catholic Church (2005)

The contract between the Holy See and the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB)  that governed the publication and distribution of the Catechism of the Catholic Church in the United States specifically prohibited any abridgement or synopsis of the Catechism. But only 13 years after its promulgation by Pope John Paul II, Pope Benedict XVI approved and promulgated the Compendium of the Catechism of the Catholic Church. While the reception of the Catechism of the Catholic Church was generally positive, almost from the beginning some had asked for the publication of a more concise formulation of its content. A formal proposal for such a compendium emerged from the participants at the International Catechetical Congress in October 2002. Pope John Paul II accepted the proposal and, in February 2003, entrusted the work of preparing such a compendium to a commission of cardinals presided over by Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger. During the process, a draft of the Compendium was circulated to all the members of the College of Cardinals and to the presidents of episcopal conferences throughout the world. Both the concept of a compendium and the draft text of the Compendium were received and evaluated favorably.

Pope John Paul II died while the draft of the Compendium was being finalized and the presiding officer of the Commission of Cardinals for the Compendium, Joseph Ratzinger, was elected his successor. In the first year of his pontificate, Pope Benedict XVI presented the Church with what he termed “a faithful and sure synthesis of the Catechism of the Catholic Church. It contains, in concise form, all the essential and fundamental elements of the Church’s faith, thus constituting, as my Predecessor had wished, a kind of vademecum which allows believers and non-believers alike to behold the entire panorama of the Catholic faith.”[1]

The Compendium was not intended to stand alone or to replace the Catechism of the Catholic Church but rather make the latter more widely accessible and better understood. In fact, the Compendium is replete with marginal references to the Catechism. In that sense, the Compendium constantly points to the Catechism and emphasizes its primacy as the fundamental text for catechesis today. In the introduction to the Compendium, Cardinal Ratzinger wrote: “There are three principal characteristics of the Compendium: the close reliance on the Catechism of the Catholic Church; the dialogical format; [and] the use of artistic images in the catechesis.”[2]

The Compendium was structured along the same lines as its parent. It has the same four major divisions as the Catechism: the profession of faith, the celebration of the Christian mystery, life in Christ, and Christian prayer. The very words of the Compendium, like those of the Catechism, also seek to promote a common language of the faith in which people of every nation can discuss its content.

In a departure from the structure of the Catechism, however, the Compendium is organized in a dialogical format. A dialogue, or a series of questions and answers, is an ancient catechetical genre for the presentation of the faith used by some of the Church’s most effective catechists and most widely used catechetical instruments throughout her history. This methodology sets up a virtual conversation between a master and a disciple that encourages the disciple to discover the truths of the faith, reflect on them, and understand them more fully. It was adopted by the editorial commission because by its very nature the question and answer format emphasizes what is essential and lends itself to brevity. In all, there are 598 questions and responses in the Compendium.

Within the process of the Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults (RCIA), the Rite of Election is a powerful liturgical moment. The Church rejoices at the imminent birth of new Christians, praying for the Elect as they draw even closer to the Lord in preparation for receiving the Sacraments of Initiation. The rite is also a culmination of learning about the Church—it is the point when catechumens formally declare their desire to enter the Church. The Rite of Election can serve as a valuable opportunity for reflection for those of us who are parish catechetical leaders, reminding us too that communion must form the context for catechesis.

This intention of the Rite of Election is especially pronounced in the modified wording of the Rite of Election for children over the age of seven. In this version of the Rite of Election there is a  profound moment when godparents are asked to formally declare the preparedness of the children through a series of questions: “Have these children shown themselves to be sincere in their desire for baptism, confirmation, and the Eucharist?” “Have they listened well to the word of God?” “Have they tried to live as his faithful followers?” “Have they taken part in this community’s life of prayer and service?”[1] While these questions are asked about the children, they have implications for the godparents and parents, and, by extension, us catechists as well. The questions point to the fact that becoming a disciple of Christ does not happen in a vacuum.

An Integral Part of Discipleship and Catechesis

The Directory for Catechesis, quoting Pope Francis, teaches that “The faith is professed, celebrated, expressed, and lived above all in community: ‘The communitarian dimension is not just a “frame,” an “outline,” but an integral part of the Christian life, of witness and of evangelization.’”[2] We see this implied in the questions asked in the Rite of Election. The first three questions could technically be discerned individually by the godparents alone but are more richly lived and discerned within the parish community. The fourth question necessarily includes the broader parish community. We as parish catechetical leaders have an incredible opportunity to pray for and foster this community within the programs we lead.

Practically speaking, parish catechetical leaders are often the first real contact a family seeking the sacraments through RCIA has with the parish community. We can guide this family into the community in not merely a superficial way but one that allows for friendship and apprenticeship in the Christian life. We become the gatekeepers in some sense, with a duty to bring those coming to the Church into the community of the parish. And, may I argue, we also have the mission to, under the guidance of the pastor, foster and encourage deep Christian community for all. The connections we facilitate can potentially allow catechumens to receive from and enrich a community for generations.

“Have you heard something? Let it die with you. Be brave, it will not make you burst!” – Sirach 19:10

Though I tell people that I’m a theologian (which is technically true), I’m really a Church historian. I was attracted to the study of Church history starting in high school because I was interested in how people, stories, and examples from our history should inform our teaching, evangelization, interpretation, and internal Church decision-making now. The major question for the catechist is how properly to use the past in our present efforts. In the midst of the National Eucharistic Revival, this question is very relevant, as there are Eucharistic devotions, teachings, and movements that most people have never encountered and that, at first glance, might seem strange or shocking. I would like to present a guiding principle for using history to spur Eucharistic belief and devotion, followed by three examples from history that show this principle in action and that I believe can bear fruit now.

Historical Moments

The most common mistake we make when we discover something interesting or edifying from history is to say, “look what they did back then; we should do it now.” This approach, which comes from the excitement of discovering something of value, neglects the importance of cultural and social context, as well as theological development. Instead of doing that, let’s present historical episodes, ideas, and developments as what they are: unique moments when the Church, or a segment of the Church, realized something it hadn’t realized before or reacted to a new challenge. When we see a teaching or practice arising in its own context, we can learn more and be inspired by its original importance and meaning—like the background of a painting allowing you to see the outline and the details of the foreground.

There are also examples from history of things we have forgotten or have allowed to lie dormant. While it’s true that some practices or emphases should be allowed to fade with the social and cultural situations that originally housed them, others speak to ongoing realities. It takes wisdom, discernment, prayer, and patience in this area to determine the difference between the two.

Eucharistic Controversies

Eucharistic belief develops. This does not mean that we believe “new” things; rather, it means that our understanding of the full truth, which is inexhaustible in this life and always remains partially concealed, continues to grow like a tree from an acorn or an adult from an embryo. There have been moments in history when the Church first “saw” something in a new or different way. In catechesis, these moments can draw our attention to the how and why of orthodoxy and orthopraxy.  One such moment that I like to use in catechesis is the argument over the Eucharist that took place between two ninth-century monks named Ratramnus and Paschasius. The question they debated was whether Christ’s body, seated at the right hand of the Father, was identical to the Body that we receive in the Eucharist. In other words, are they exactly the same body with the same properties?

Pope St. John Paul II devoted about 30 percent of his Theology of the Body (TOB) Catechesis (TOB 24–64) to extensive reflections on Jesus’s teaching in Matthew 5:27–28 regarding the need to avoid “lust” in the recesses of the human heart. St. John Paul II did not focus so intently on this teaching simply to hammer home the evils of lust. Instead, he saw lust as an acute threat to the divine plan for human love, and that plan for love was always his greatest concern. He repeatedly presents the teaching of Jesus not so much as a condemnation of our lustful hearts but as a call to purity of heart for the sake of purified love (TOB 42–59).

St. John Paul II utilizes St. Paul’s teaching that we must “abstain from unchastity” and “keep” the body “with holiness and reverence” (1 Thes 4:3–5) to emphasize that purity of heart has a “more positive than negative” dimension (TOB 54:1–3). Purity necessarily means being free from pollutants that contaminate the heart, but it should never be misconstrued as prudishness or disdain for the sexuality of the body (TOB 44:5–45:3). Authentic purity is found in a positive orientation of the heart that heightens our sense of the dignity and beauty of human sexuality in ourselves and in others.

This whole outlook on purity corresponds with what St. John Paul II calls the “ethos of redemption” (TOB 51:5) and the “life ‘according to the Spirit’” that make the reality of purified love “a new ability of the human being in whom the gift of the Holy Spirit bears fruit” (TOB 56:1). Instead of being anything we can manufacture for ourselves, true purity is given to us “by the power of Christ himself working in man’s innermost [being] through the Holy Spirit” (TOB 51:3). Through re-creation in Christ, we can be given a supernatural outlook on sexuality and new paradigms for our sexual lives.

This installment of the series presents the TOB teachings on purity of heart and sexual modesty as guideposts on the path of re-creation within the relationship of man and woman. These teachings help us better understand how our attitudes, thoughts, and desires should be impacted by God’s grace; from there, we can formulate a kind of checklist of God’s expectations for our sexual lives.

In Jesus’ Good Shepherd discourse, he describes his and his Father’s shared omnipotence as shepherd over his flock, saying that no one can claim the sheep either in his hand or in the Father’s hand, adding that he and the Father “are one” (Jn 10:30). Many of those around him prepare to stone him to death on the spot because they perceive this claim to be blasphemous. He does not, however, respond to the raging crowd in the manner we might expect theologically.

After briefly pointing to the authority of the works he does as bearing witness to his divine origin from the Father, Jesus directs the crowd to the absolute authority of the Psalms, which makes the same claim, “you are gods” (Jn 10:34, cf. Ps 82:6). He interrupts himself to add a crucial point: “Scripture cannot be nullified.” Jesus here illustrates an important biblical principle: one cannot simply ignore a difficult passage, even one that seems to be calling human beings “gods.” What results is a beautiful a fortiori argument: If Scripture calls them “gods,” how much more ought no one to object that Jesus, the Son of God, claims oneness with the Father. The crowd has no word to respond to this claim.[1]

How do we understand this claim, “you are gods”? Put simply, the Holy Spirit makes gods of the worshipping faithful. This is what St. Peter illustrates in one of his epistles when he writes that we are made to be “partakers of the divine nature” (2 Pet 1:4). We know from the rest of the Gospel of John and the consequent Tradition that implied in the Son’s claim about his union with the Father is the reality that the Holy Spirit effects a similar union between believers and God. So, when we are deified, or made divine, does that mean that we cease to be human? To borrow a phrase from St. Paul, by no means! That is the good news about deification—we remain fully human when we are made divine.

So how then are we made divine without the annihilation of our humanity? To answer that question, we need to turn to the Fathers of the Church, who give us some important foundational principles. They especially help to illumine the divinization of humanity. St. Irenaeus of Lyons, whom Pope Francis named a Doctor of the Church, puts it this way: “the only true and steadfast Teacher, the Word of God, our Lord Jesus Christ, . . . did, through His transcendent love, become what we are, that He might bring us to be even what He is Himself.”[2] Athanasius formulated the same principle when he said, “He was incarnate that we might be made God.”[3] This divinization, or theosis, does not obliterate human nature. Instead, human nature is elevated and filled with divine life.[4] Taking the lead from the Fathers, our understanding of this doctrine of deification is fundamentally Christ-centered. The extent to which God became man is the extent to which man becomes God. Though our “person” never becomes God, the good news is that we are radically elevated into supernatural life through the gift of the Spirit.

The conciliar tradition helps us to see the importance of humanity’s unchanging nature, especially in light of the definition of the hypostatic union at the Council of Chalcedon of 451. In this definition, we confess that the divine and human natures of Christ are united in the Son’s one hypostasis (that is, person) “without confusion, without change, without division, without separation.” This understanding of the union between the divine and human natures in Christ is crucial for our understanding how our humanity could be filled with divine life without undergoing an essential change. For example, in the Eucharist, the bread and wine are changed substantially into the body, blood, soul, and divinity of Christ. We call this change transubstantiation because only the accidental qualities of bread and wine remain, while the essence itself is changed. We are not “transubstantiated,” so to speak, in theosis.