Franciscan at Home

Is “discipleship” just another trendy Catholic catchphrase? Although there’s a lot more emphasis on discipleship today, some parish leaders admit not having a clear understanding of what exactly discipleship is and how this theme can impact catechetical ministry. Some even wonder if it’s just a passing trend. As one parish leader recently said to me, “Discipleship?…Oh, this is just another Catholic buzz word that happens to be in vogue now…It will fade away in a few years….I’m just going to keep doing what I’ve been doing.” Part of the problem might be the lack of a consistent vision being casted for discipleship. Individual parishes, apostolates, or diocesan leaders each often come up with their own views on discipleship. But given the importance of this theme, imagine if we were all on the same page in offering a picture of discipleship that was truly shaped by God’s Word. What if we were to offer parish leaders a more consistent and more robust picture of discipleship—one grounded in Jesus’ public ministry and rooted in the Church’s teachings on catechesis? As we’ll see, this exciting biblical vision for discipleship would equip pastoral workers with a powerful framework for evangelization and deepening people’s relationship with Christ. Discipleship: Its Biblical Meaning In the first-century Jewish world of Jesus, being a disciple was all about one key word: imitation. When a disciple followed a rabbi, the goal wasn’t merely to master the rabbi’s teachings but also to imitate the way he lived: the way he prayed, studied, taught, served the poor, and lived out his relationship with God day-to-day. Jesus himself said when a disciple is fully trained, he “becomes like his teacher” (Lk 6:40). And when St. Paul formed disciples of his own, he exhorted them not just to remember his teachings, but also to follow his way of living: “Be imitators of me as I am of Christ” (1 Cor 11:1). Though the word disciple (mathetes) means “learner,” biblical discipleship was very different from modern classroom learning. On a college campus, a professor might give lectures to students in a large hall; the students take notes, and they’re examined on the material later in the semester. But there’s usually not an ongoing personal relationship and sharing of life between professor and student in the university setting today.

Pope Francis is fond of describing the Lord as One who goes before us in our apostolic mission. No matter where it is that catechists are called to serve, no matter the challenges and the adversity, we can take heart (as well as courage) that the Lord has preceded us into this place, that he is in charge, that we are not alone.

The doctrine of original sin is an essential component of the Christian faith. If catechists don’t explain well the nature, effect, and consequences of original sin, they will find it very difficult not only to address the major moral issues of our day, but also to effectively communicate the Gospel. Without original sin, the Gospel message loses much of its power and purpose. To fully appreciate the “good news” of the Christ’s redemption, we first must grapple with the “bad news” of our fallen condition. Why do we need a redeemer and savior? Are people not essentially good? Are they not able to live a good moral life regardless of their religious beliefs? In reply to those questions, our faith teaches that something in our human nature is inherently wounded and in need of healing. The Church affirms that original sin is “an essential truth of the faith,” and so “we cannot tamper with the revelation of original sin without undermining the mystery of Christ.”[i] Original Sin in Genesis To understand original sin, we must turn to the first chapters of the Bible. We read in Genesis 2 that God created Adam, placed him in the Garden of Eden, then created Eve out of his side. The Catechism tells us that God created the first couple in a state of “original holiness and justice.”[ii] Original holiness means that our first parents shared in God’s divine life and were free from suffering and death—a state symbolized by their free access to the Tree of Life. Original justice means that Adam and Eve possessed an inner harmony within themselves, with each other, and with all of creation.[iii] They were at peace with themselves and with the world. This state of friendship with God, however, depended on their submission to him and respect of his moral norms.[iv] The limit to man’s freedom is represented by the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, strictly prohibited to Adam and Eve under penalty of death: “you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall surely die” (Gen 2:17). Unfortunately, this original state of holiness and justice did not last long. Genesis 3 describes the well-known story of the fall: A mysterious talking serpent urges Eve to eat of the fruit from the tree of knowledge, which appears to be “good for food”, “a delight to the eyes”, and “desirable to make one wise.” She yields to the temptation and persuades Adam to do the same in defiance of God’s command. As soon as they eat the fruit, the two realize that they are naked. Ashamed, they cover themselves with fig leaves; they also become afraid of God and attempt to hide from him. The consequences of the infraction are dire: God curses the serpent, imposes labor pains on the woman and inflicts hard toil on the man for his subsistence, along with the prospect of returning to the ground from which he was taken. Adam and Eve are banned from Eden and from the Tree of Life; suffering and death enter human history.[v] This narrative raises two initial questions. First, what is modern man to make of it? Doesn’t it display the characteristics of a myth or pious legend rather than history? The Church teaches that even though the account of the fall uses figurative language, it affirms a primeval event that truly “took place at the beginning of the history of man,” so that “the whole of human history is marked by the original fault freely committed by our first parents.”[vi] Second, does the story really teach the Christian doctrine of original sin? Genesis 3 says nothing about a fallen angel called Satan, about Adam losing gifts of divine sonship and sanctifying grace, or about him transmitting a fallen nature to all his descendants. Religious Jews, in fact, interpret the fall of Adam and Eve differently: while they obviously agree that Adam and Eve sinned, they don’t accept the idea that Adam passed on a wounded human nature to the entire human race.[vii] While it is true that Genesis 3 does not explicitly teach the doctrine of Original Sin, the story does provide the “raw materials” of the doctrine that will gradually develop in Sacred Scripture and Christian Tradition.

Although the Eucharist is “the source and summit of the Christian life,”[i] many Catholics are unfamiliar with its rich Old Testament and Jewish background. In this article, we will look at four aspects of this background: the king-priest Melchizedek, the Passover, the manna, and the bread of the Presence.

Melchizedek: Priest of God Most High

The first prefiguration of the Eucharist goes back to the mysterious figure of Melchizedek in the book of Genesis. This Melchizedek, called “king of Salem” and “priest of God Most High,” brought out bread and wine to Abraham and blessed him (Gen 14:18-20). His name means “king of righteousness” in Hebrew, and Salem—a shortened form of “Jerusalem” (cf. Ps 76:2)—derives from the word shalom (peace), so Melchizedek’s name also means “king of peace” (cf. Heb 7:2). Melchizedek is mentioned only in two other places in the Bible. In Psalm 110, the psalmist says to the Davidic king, “You are a priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek” (Ps 110:4); and the Epistle to the Hebrews identifies this Davidic king-priest with Christ (Heb 5:6-10; 6:20-7:17). The Church sees in Melchizedek’s offering to Abraham a prefiguring of her own eucharistic offering, in which Christ is presented to the Father under the species of bread and wine.[ii]

The Passover: Redemption from Slavery

But why bread and wine? In the Old Covenant these were offered in sacrifice “among the first fruits of the earth as a sign of grateful acknowledgment to the Creator.”[iii] Bread and wine acquired a particular significance in the context of the Passover and Exodus. When God delivered Israel out of Egypt, He commanded each Israelite family to slaughter a lamb, sprinkle its blood on the doorposts of the house, then eat the roasted lamb together with bitter herbs and unleavened bread (symbolizing the bitterness of slavery and haste of their imminent departure) (Ex 12:1-11). The sprinkled blood of the lamb protected the Israelite firstborn sons from the plague against the firstborn Egyptians and marked the beginning of their redemption from slavery.

The celebration of the Passover would henceforth for the Jewish people remain a perpetual memorial of God’s deliverance.[iv] Eventually, four cups of wine were added to its commemoration, representing God’s four redemptive actions during the Exodus.[v]

There is a particularly unnerving paragraph for catechists in the Catechism of the Catholic Church. It is paragraph 428 and it begins, “Whoever is called ‘to teach Christ’ …” The two paragraphs above it, 426 and 427, quote from Catechesi Tradendae and are very well known. This one is rarely seen quoted anywhere and is unique in what it teaches about the catechist. Whoever is called “to teach Christ” must first seek “the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus”; he must suffer “the loss of all things...” in order to “gain Christ and be found in him,” and “to know him and the power of his resurrection, and [to] share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that if possible [he] may attain the resurrection from the dead” (CCC 428). This paragraph quotes from St. Paul’s letter to the Philippians, chapter 3:8-11, which we will be examining; however, the context of the whole letter is significant because it gives us insight into St. Paul’s heart for what he writes in chapter 3. Though writing from prison, St. Paul is overflowing with gratitude, love, and joy: “I thank God in all my remembrance of you” (Phil 1:3); “For God is my witness, how I yearn for you all with the affection of Christ Jesus” (Phil 1:8); “my brethren, whom I love and long for, my joy and crown” (Phil 4:1).

“Were our hearts not burning within us while he spoke to us on the way and opened the scriptures to us?” (Lk 24:32) These are the words the two disciples of Emmaus use to report their encounter with the risen Christ. In a similar way, it is not at all uncommon—rather, it is to be expected—that those who have recently encountered Christ have a noticeable interest in Holy Scripture. Accordingly, catechists have the indispensable task of helping these new disciples to approach the Scripture with the mind of the Church, imparting to them the tools they need for an authentic interpretation of the holy texts. In light of this important duty, here I would like to propose seven simple principles for the sound interpretation of Scripture.

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.