Franciscan at Home

At the beginning of her consecrated life, St. Teresa experienced a “surprising” joy: “I was filled with a joy so great, that it has never failed me to this day…I was filled with a new joy that surprised me, nor could I understand whence it came.”[i] At the same time, though, she was also attracted by worldly vanities, which tempted her even in the cloister.[ii] How did she become able to sacrifice immediate “vain” joys for lasting joy? She needed to experience a true conversion, a kind of liberation. Like Mary Magdalene, she reached joy through the experience of tears.
Fidelity to prayer was, for Teresa, the path of her conversion and the way to reach true joy.

In this year dedicated by Pope Francis to the consecrated life, Saint Teresa of Avila is a vivid icon of the joy given by the “sequela Christi.” She followed the steps of Christ, his way of life, through obedience, poverty, and chastity.

Teresa was a joyful woman, full of the light of her Lord. She was gifted for relationship and many people were fond of her company, but these very gifts could become traps in her search for happiness. Thus her way to reach true joy—that is to say, joy that remains in the depths of the heart even when experiencing hardships—was not a straight one. Following her story may be illuminating for us.

Living and Proclaiming the Joy of the Gospel This department begins with a series focused on the insights of St. Teresa of Avila into the joy and desire to evangelize which comes from communion with God. In this first article, the author shows how St. Teresa was a woman of deep joy, who was responsive to her profound desire for God, which was a divine gift in itself. 2015 is the five-hundredth anniversary of the birth of St. Teresa of Avila.[1] This is a time of thanksgiving for the whole Church because St. Teresa, as a doctor of the Church, is a light for all the baptized. She is often called “mater spiritualium,” mother of interior souls, because her teaching is about the richness of baptismal life. She was so grateful to the Lord for giving such treasures to souls, whenever he finds them open to his love. “The joy is so excessive the soul (…) wants to tell everyone about it.”[2] I chose this sentence from the Interior Castle as the theme for this series because it is typical of Teresa’s personality. She was a joyful person, always ready to praise the Lord. Where did this joy originate? That is what we will investigate in this series. And, there is another point which is particularly inspiring for the period we are living now in the Church: Teresa was eager to share this joy.

In the past few issues of The Sower, I have looked at the apostles as catechetical saints. Of course they are obviously catechists, personally chosen and sent by Christ to evangelize the world. I usually pray about which saint I will write about and then I do some research. Repeatedly Simon and Jude came to my mind, not because they are so well known and popular, but because, for the most part, they are unknown. Even Pope Benedict stated that they are somewhat obscure

In the past few articles I have been looking at the Apostles as catechetical saints. As I have mentioned before, twice this past year I had the opportunity to go to Rome. On both trips I was able to visit the Church of St. Louis where Caravaggio’s famous painting of the Calling of St. Matthew is displayed. It was a great blessing for me to see the painting in person. It never ceases to remind me of my own vocation, which is why I have a large print of the painting in my office. In many ways, we can look at the Gospel of St. Matthew as the catechist’s Gospel, so let’s take the opportunity here to look at his vocation.

Matthew’s call is unique to the apostles because of his profession and the “sin” associated with it. He was a tax collector working for the Romans. The Jews hated his profession. We must admit that the profession is not very popular even today, but Jesus called him anyway. St Paul says, “Where sin abounds, grace abounds all the more” (Rom. 5:20). This was certainly true for Matthew, also known as Levi.

Pope Benedict wrote that to read Matthew 9:9 is to “recall Caravaggio’s magnificent canvas” (Wednesday Audience, 30 August 2006). In Caravaggio’s painting, we see Jesus calling Matthew. He is sitting at his job surrounded by obviously rich men, all counting money in front of them. Matthew knows that he is being called to something, and yet his attention is still on the money. He is aware that Jesus has come to his house, the house of a sinner, and is moved to follow Jesus. Matthew’s conversion is personal and profound.

In the second of these articles on the Apostles as Catechetical Saints, we look at St. Andrew. Peter is usually mentioned first in the list of the apostles because of his position as the first Vicar of Jesus Christ, but in John’s Gospel Andrew is the first to be called by Jesus. Pope Benedict tells us,
Andrew, then, was the first of the Apostles to be called to follow Jesus. Exactly for this reason the liturgy of the Byzantine Church honours him with the nickname: “Protokletos” [protoclete], which means, precisely, “the first called”. (General Audience, 14 June 2006)
It is he who introduced his brother Peter to the Lord. They were both fishermen in Capernaum, and after the death of Jesus they became fishers of men. Both apostles also followed Jesus literally to the cross. Peter died on an upside down cross, because he did not deem it worthy to die exactly as his Master. Andrew shared this same sense of unworthiness and died on an X-shaped cross. St. Andrew’s Cross (saltire) eventually became the national flag of Scotland and is also on the flag of the Canadian province of Nova Scotia (New Scotland).
Initially Andrew was a follower of John the Baptist. After Jesus’ baptism in the Jordan, Andrew left to join the one that John called the “Lamb of God”. He immediately left everything when Jesus called him to leave his nets. Later, we see him act as mediator two times in the Gospel of John.
It is obvious that Andrew possessed a lingering desire for the truth, first with the Baptist and finally with Jesus. Let us examine what we catechists can learn from St. Andrew.

Time magazine may have named both Pope John XXIII and Pope John Paul II “Man of the Year” during their respective pontificates, but this April 27, 2014—the day on which the Church celebrates Jesus’ Divine Mercy—the Church will proclaim that these holy men are saints for all time! 

In September 2013, I had the privilege of attending an International Conference for Catechists in Rome, which was sponsored by the Pontifical Council for Promoting the New Evangelization. It was a true blessing to be in Rome during the Year of Faith. We listened to several speakers, including Dr. Petroc Willey, the English consultant to this Pontifical Council, and Franciscan University alumna, Dr. Jem Sullivan. Two extraordinary things happened during those few days. The best, of course, was being able to shake hands with our Holy Father Pope Francis. I began weeping as soon as he entered the Audience Hall and as I held his hand for a few brief seconds. As he began his catechesis, I continued to weep as he affirmed all that I have been striving to do in forty years as a catechist. I honestly felt that St. Peter, the simple fisherman from Galilee, was speaking through this simple man from Argentina. And then I wept no more.

The second experience was attending Mass celebrated by Archbishop Rino Fisichella, the President of the Council for Promoting the New Evangelization and the many bishops and priests who were attending the conference. Mass was celebrated upon the altar directly under the Chair of St. Peter, the symbol of the authority of the first Pope and his successors through two millennia. It was then that I decided that I would devote the next several issues of The Sower to Peter and the Apostles.

I wrote about St. Peter several years ago when I did a series of articles on catechetical saints who were popes. I am sure the life of Peter is well known to the readers. It is clear in the Gospels, in the Acts of the Apostles, and in Peter’s letters contained in the New Testament. He was impetuous, he was flawed, and in the end he denied the One whom he believed to be the Messiah. Why did he do that? Did he reject Christ entirely? Hadn’t he left everything, including wife and family to follow Jesus? Was he afraid?

In September of this year [2010], during his Papal visit to England, Pope Benedict beatified Cardinal Newman. I realize that most people would not think of Newman as a catechetical saint, but I believe he is. First of all, we must remember that to be a catechetical saint, one must be a saint first, that is, be holy. The Church affirms Newman’s holiness in beatifying him.

I believe it is clear that he can be called ‘catechetical’. He is one of the most famous converts to Catholicism after St. Paul and St. Augustine. He was born in England when the Church of England was the state church, and had become for many a matter of form rather that a means of salvation. An evangelical revival was underway in the 1830’s. C.S. Dessain wrote that the Evangelicals’ ‘concentration on feelings of the heart led to a disparagement of the external and objective in religion, creeds, sacraments and visible Church. A man’s feelings were more important than his beliefs.’[i] This could be said of catechesis after Vatican II.

The depth and breadth of Newman’s life cannot be summarized in these few paragraphs, and I encourage everyone to read one of the many works on Newman’s life. Ultimately he entered the Catholic Church at Littlemore, outside of Oxford in 1845. He was ordained a Catholic priest in Rome in 1846 and joined the Oratorians of St. Philip Neri. He returned to England and settled first at Maryvale, the home of The Sower, and finally in Birmingham where he founded the Oratory there. Again, the breadth of his activities as a Catholic priest can in no way be quickly summarized here.

In this final installment of my series on Blessed John Paul, I thought that I would deviate from the regular format of these articles and instead help us all to reflect on the words of John Paul himself. In the huge corpus of his writing, he really took every opportunity to speak to all the members of the Church, in every state of life. Of course his witness would be enough to inspire us to personal holiness.

So, I am asking you to take some quiet time (a rare commodity for people actively engaged in the catechetical apostolate of the Church) and peacefully reflect on the words of Blessed John Paul.