Franciscan at Home

Are not the words “missionary” and “disciple,” in reality, opposites? It seems, on the one hand, that “disciple” implies remaining with, being with: passivity, contemplation, learning, etc. On the other hand, “mission” seems to imply just the opposite, a being sent, going out, going forth: activity, work, doing, etc. Pope Benedict XVI also comments on this apparent contradiction, saying, “Being with Jesus and being sent by him seem at first sight mutually exclusive...”[1] Can these words legitimately stand together? If so, how?

This article, though unable to provide a comprehensive study, will survey the main lines of Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger to Pope Benedict XVI’s teaching on discipleship in order to further draw out the contours of missionary discipleship, the reality highlighted by Pope Francis in Evangelii Gaudium (nos. 119-121). This brief study will first trace the basic elements of Benedict’s understanding of discipleship, before exploring the connection between discipleship and spiritual christology made possible in Jesus’ filial communication (i.e. prayer), and the implications of what Ratzinger calls “pro-existence” on discipleship.[2]

The Jewish feasts commemorate God’s sovereign deliverance of his people from Egypt and his providential care for them throughout the Exodus. Yet as important as these holy days are for Jews, they are also significant for Christians, for they foreshadow God's plan of salvation for the world in Christ. The meaning of the Jewish feasts, along with their messianic and typological fulfillment for Christians, is the subject of the present article—the first of two parts.

The Seven Mosaic Feasts

Israel’s liturgical calendar comprises seven divinely instituted festivals.[i] As outlined in Leviticus chapter 23, these are grouped in three major seasons:

Early Spring

The Feast of Passover (Lev 23:4-5)
The Feast of Unleavened Bread (Lev 23:6-8)
The Feast of the Sheaf of Firstfruits (Lev 23:9-14)
Late Spring
The Feast of Weeks or Pentecost (Lev 23:15-22)
Fall

The Feast of Trumpets (Lev 23:23-25)
The Day of Atonement (Lev 23:26-32)
The Feast of Booths or Tabernacles (Lev 23:33-44)
Here in part 1, we will look at the four spring festivals—from Passover to Pentecost—in the Jewish liturgical year and the broader context of salvation history. In part 2, we will examine the significance of the fall festivals.

Wonderful Words of Life Sing them over again to me, wonderful words of life; Let me more of their beauty see, wonderful words of life; Words of life and beauty, teach me faith and duty. Sweetly echoes the Gospel call, wonderful words of life; Offering pardon and peace to all, wonderful words of life; Jesus only Savior, sanctify us forever, Beautiful words, wonderful words, Wonderful words of life; Beautiful words, wonderful words, Wonderful words of life.[1] This favorite hymn from my childhood affirms the life-giving power of God’s Word. The hymn’s simple lyrics lavishly praise Scripture’s goodness and beauty connecting the “wonderful words of life” (Sacred Scripture) to the Gospel call and to Jesus as Savior. Although the author was not Catholic, he clearly found sustenance for life itself, and expects to meet Christ in the words of Sacred Scripture, as have thousands of Christians, young and old wherever they have had access to the Bible. Children’s hearts and minds are especially attuned to the words of Scripture. When properly prepared, children welcome the opportunity to enter into the mysterious reality of Jesus made present in a particular way in the reading of his Word. Today’s parents and catechists are increasingly aware of the capacity of children for a serious life of faith. This capacity includes an ability to receive and be nurtured by the living word of God.

During the ordination rite of a man who is becoming a deacon, the bishop presents him with a Book of the Gospels. This presentation has significance as it symbolizes the new preoccupation of his ecclesial activity: proclamation, preaching, and instruction. In light of this presentation of the Gospels, a deacon’s imagination ought to now draw spiritual life primarily from Scripture. Utilizing such an imagination he ought to become one of his diocese’s best pastoral instructors in Word and doctrine. Deacons can, therefore, consider three vocational truths: first, the deacon is empowered to proclaim the Gospel at Mass; second, he is obligated to pray the Scriptures each day through the Liturgy of the Hours; and finally, he is commended to ponder the Word of God daily as spiritual reading. Entrusted with these responsibilities, a deacon may receive a call to further study and so become a more competent catechist.

People often ask me, an evangelical convert to the Catholic Church twenty years ago, what made me want to become Catholic. Because my husband and I flirted with the idea of conversion over the course of ten years, there are many possible responses. However, it has always been clear to me that there was one event that changed everything for us, overcoming any lingering questions or queasiness we had about such a dramatic decision. A friend gave us a copy of the newly translated English version of the Catechism of the Catholic Church. We read it from cover to cover. Although we had spent all our adult lives reading, studying, and teaching Scripture, as well as theology, we had never seen anything like it. I will never forget the indescribable thrill it was for me to see Scriptures I had known for a very long time interpreted in such a beautiful, profoundly unified, and wise way. It was deeply satisfying, both rationally (“this all makes perfect sense”) and spiritually (“how could God love us this much?”). Its ring of truth was simply irresistible; it closed off all other doors to possible interpretation and practice of Christian faith. We were forced to say to the Church, the Mystical Body of Christ: “To whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life” (Jn 6:68). Even twenty years later, I still experience the thrill of seeing how the Scripture, Tradition, and Magisterium of the Church all come together when it is time for the faithful to learn and live the truth. I recently had a fresh taste of this when I was asked to speak on the topic of mercy to a women’s retreat in my parish. The ladies attending the retreat wanted to hear something about mercy because Pope Francis has called us all to a Year of Mercy. I share my experience here as an example of how we, as teachers, can ground our work in all the treasures the Church offers us in her role as protector and interpreter of Divine Revelation. Having never taught on this subject before, I had to ask, “Where do I begin?” I found a starting place, and then I was able to follow a path that developed in a rich and wonderful way—first, for me, the catechist, and then, I hope, for those who heard me.

Since I make my living by teaching the Bible to college students, I’m often asked to give talks on teaching Scripture, biblical catechesis, or some related theme. Over the years, I’ve given a lot of thought to what is most important when engaged in the sacred act of communicating the Word of God to other people. Obviously, most people engaged in teaching the Bible on behalf of the Church—whether priests, catechists, religion teachers, etc.—can’t devote their entire lives to Scripture study and sorting out all the challenges of interpreting the Bible. Despite that, is it still possible to do a good and faithful job, without being a professional scholar? I believe so. In what follows, I’d like to share four of the most important things to bear in mind when teaching Scripture for the Church.

God is love.

Not only is it true that God loves, but God IS love. Through all of eternity and all of time, God is pure self-gift, which is true love’s essence.

Most importantly, St. John Paul draws our attention to the action of the Trinity in catechesis. The “living Sources” are the Persons of the Trinity. The sources we seek, and from which our catechesis is perpetually renewed, are not in the past but in the living present. Christ comes to reveal the face and love of the Father. Christ himself is the teacher, speaking through his Church, today. Our catechesis is to echo this divine voice, allowing those we teach to hear Christ and his words through our lips. Our catechesis also directs people to the Holy Spirit, who is the “interior Master,” forming us in order to attune us to the voice of Christ: “to be in touch with Christ, we must first have been touched by the Holy Spirit. He comes to meet us and kindles faith in us.”

All of us have experienced the natural instinct of physical thirst. Physical thirst can, therefore, be an effective starting point for a fruitful catechetical meditation on our desire for God and the fundamental disposition of the soul needed to seek him.

Throughout salvation history, we see numerous examples of thirst. After Moses led the Israelites out of Egypt, they became so thirsty in the desert that they grumbled against their liberator (Ex 17:3). Samson also cried out to the Lord in his thirst (Jdg 15:8). In both of these circumstances, God himself satisfies them. The Psalmist recognized this as he prayed, “O God, you are my God—it is you I seek! For you my body yearns; for you my soul thirsts, in a land parched, lifeless, and without water” (Ps 63:2). Another Psalm compares the longing of the soul for God to a “deer that longs for streams of water” and desires to “enter and see the face of God” (Ps 42:1). Through the prophet Isaiah, God invites “all who are thirsty” to “come to the water” (Is 55:1) and he assures the Israelites that they will “draw water joyfully from the springs of salvation” (Is 12:3). These examples of thirst give us a sense of the longing of the people for something more, something that will ultimately satisfy.

In this issue's "Inspired through Art" department, Jem Sullivan introduces a method of teaching with art that follows the contours of the ancient practice of lectio divina. In addition to offering a synopsis of this promising approach, she then shows how to use it to reflect upon a masterpiece from the Italian Renaissance. We live in a visual culture. From our waking moments to the day’s end, our senses are accessing the natural world and the visual culture that surrounds us. As catechists, we know this visual culture well from our daily experience of print, electronic and social media, mass communication, and entertainment; and the dominant visual culture also shapes those we are privileged to catechize. In a culture of images, how might the rich heritage of Christian art serve catechesis and evangelization? What catechetical methods might we employ to lead those we catechize to deeper faith in Christ through reflection on masterpieces of Christian art? In this article, we will consider the ancient spiritual practice of lectio divina and its adaptation today for reflection upon works of art. To gain a good sense for how lectio divina could be employed in this way, this method will be used to reflect in a catechetical manner upon a masterpiece painting of the Annunciation by Giovanni di Paolo. Why Attend to Beauty in Christian Art? Christian art speaks the language of the Incarnation. In his book, The Spirit of the Liturgy, Pope Benedict XVI drew attention to the theological basis of Christian art when he noted that, “the complete absence of images is incompatible with faith in the Incarnation of God.”[1] Both Saint John Paul II and Pope Francis urge catechists to attend to the vast Christian artistic tradition as a means of evangelization and catechesis. Pope John Paul II observed that, “in the history of human culture…believers have gained from art in their experience of prayer and Christian living…[I]n times when few could read or write, [artistic] representations of the bible were a concrete mode of catechesis…[since] every genuine art form in its own way is a path to the inmost reality of man and of the world.”[2] Pope Francis highlights the evangelizing role of art when he wrote, “every form of catechesis would do well to attend to the “way of beauty” (via pulchritudinis). Proclaiming Christ means showing that to believe in and to follow him is not only something right and true, but also something beautiful, capable of filling life with new splendor and profound joy, even in the midst of difficulties. Every expression of true beauty can thus be acknowledged as a path leading to an encounter with the Lord Jesus…So a formation in the via pulchritudinis ought to be part of our effort to pass on the faith.”[3]