Franciscan at Home

When my sixteen-year-old son was young I asked him, as people do with young children, what he wanted to do when he grew up. His response was that he wanted to build bridges in the sky. I was not exactly sure what he meant by that, but I certainly look forward to how it turns out. Building bridges is a meaningful and significant undertaking. Bridges occupy the space between us and help bring people together. Clearly, I am not speaking solely of physical bridges. I am not so sure my son was, either.

The word “collaborate” means “to work jointly with others in some endeavor.”[1] The “labor” part in the word clearly means work, but I found the first part of the word to be interesting. The prefix “col” is from the French word for a pass or depression in a mountain range. If you have ever driven through the Brenner Pass in the Tyrolian Alps, you know that, like bridges, passes bring people together.

When we collaborate, we participate in the work of the Holy Spirit: the work of unity. We take part in fulfilling the prayer of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane: “I do not ask for these only, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me” (Jn 17:20–21). When we seek unity with others through our ministry, we mirror the inner workings of the Holy Trinity, which is an unending, perfectly collaborative relationship.

So, how do we use our ministries to construct bridges? What does it look like for us to “fill the spaces” that separate us from others in the labor of evangelization? What valleys are we willing to traverse to bring people together? How do we carry out youth ministry in a collaborative way that successfully allows us to include and impact those we may not otherwise accompany? Let us explore a handful of ecclesial bodies in which we could labor to increase collaboration.

To find out more, go to www.steubenvilleconferencescom/youth or call 740-283-6315 or email at [email protected].

As Christians, we are called to affirm the dignity of each human being. This dignity has its beginning from our first moment of existence, when each of us receives the gift of life itself. The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches that “Human life must be respected and protected absolutely from the moment of conception. From the first moment of his existence, a human being must be recognized as having the rights of a person—among which is the inviolable right of every innocent being to life” (2270).

Made in God’s image, each human being possesses an intellect and will, along with the capacity to love and be loved.[1] When we live in accordance with our dignity, what we were truly made for, it causes deep happiness and fulfillment. When we witness to a culture of life, we help uphold the dignity of everyone around us.

Notes

Pope St. John Paul II proclaimed the theology of the body (TOB) as perennial truths revealed by God through ancient biblical texts, but he also noted that this pedagogy of the body “takes on particular importance for contemporary man, whose science in the fields of bio-physiology and bio-medicine is very advanced” (TOB 59:3).[i] While he acknowledged the value of modern science for certain kinds of truth, he cautioned that such science does not develop “the consciousness of the body as a sign of the person” because “it is based on the disjunction between what is bodily and what is spiritual in man,” which leaves the body “deprived of the meaning and dignity that stem from the fact that this body is proper to the person” (TOB 59:3). In “a civilization that remains under the pressure of a materialistic and utilitarian way of thinking and evaluating” (TOB 23:5), this depersonalized notion of the body encourages people to treat the body as an object to be manipulated and used for their own subjective gratification.

In 2019, the Congregation for Catholic Education (CCE) promulgated Male and Female He Created Them, which identifies this same disjunction between the body and the spirit as the fundamental tenet of the gender theory linked with the so-called sexual revolution.[ii] Over the course of the twentieth century, this gender theory became an “ideology of gender” that absolutizes and weaponizes pseudoscientific concepts to establish a sharp dichotomy between the conscious individual (gender) and the body (sex) and to dictate social outcomes that serve the agenda of the sexual revolution (CCE, no. 6). On the surface, it looks like a very modern example of bad philosophy and dubious science. But from the perspective of TOB, gender ideology is an attempt to establish a cultural framework that glorifies the most degrading components of the concupiscence and lust that have plagued humanity since the advent of sin.

The gender ideology of the sexual revolution corresponds directly to the concerns about contemporary culture that led St. John Paul II to proclaim TOB, and it remains one of the most important reference points for the application of TOB in the modern world. This installment of the series summarizes the main components of this gender ideology that deviate from the meaning of human sexuality found in TOB. Additionally, this installment examines the issue of homosexuality as a prominent example of how this gender ideology clashes with TOB at the level of sexual morality.

Notes

“Whenever you are united, you have marvelous strength. Whenever you are enthused about life in common, you are capable of great sacrifices for others and for the community.”[1] Immediately upon reading Pope Francis’ words in Christus Vivit (“Christ Is Alive”), I had them highlighted and underlined, with “WORKCAMP!” written emphatically in the margins. What the Holy Father had written in his apostolic exhortation to young people describes our diocesan WorkCamp so perfectly that for a moment I wondered if he had heard about our program.

Each year in the Diocese of Arlington, more than a thousand high school students, adult leaders, and volunteers transform a large school into WorkCamp’s “home base,” where they live together for a week in an intentional Christian community with the purpose of serving the poor of our diocese. “Enthused about life in common,” they make a number of significant sacrifices: trading a week of summer vacation for long days of hard work, sleeping on an air mattress on a classroom floor, even giving up their cell phone. How do high schoolers come to consider these sacrifices worthwhile? Through a lived experience of Acts 2:42–47, the description of the early Church that has become the model of communal life upon which WorkCamp is built.

Notes

No one gets into youth ministry because they love administrative office work. And while I do have a handful of colleagues who have truly mastered the art of the Google spreadsheet, I know that for many of us sitting in an office inputting medical information is not what we had in mind when we signed on to ministry. Most of us would rather grab coffee with a student than spend our days tracking down adult volunteers to ensure they’ve completed their Safe Environment paperwork.

I’ve often heard the statistic that the average shelf life of a youth minister is 18 months. And while there are plenty of factors that lead to someone deciding to step away from ministry, I have found amongst my peers that the unexpected amount of in-office work can play a large role. It is in the heart of every youth minister to be with teens, encountering them relationally and introducing them to Christ. So it’s no wonder that spending half of the week on paperwork can lead to burnout—but it doesn’t have to.

The fact is that behind-the-scenes logistics are a huge part of what makes our in-person evangelization and discipleship possible. So, I’d like to share how the Lord has moved in my own heart when it comes to the tasks that I often find menial and frustrating, as well as offer some practical tips on how to survive administrative burnout.

When you began working in the Church, how many friends did you have who were also serving in ministry? For me, it was several dozen. These youth ministers, Catholic school teachers, missionaries, and seminarians all began their work with so much zeal for the mission ahead of them.

Yet, nearly ten years later, I can count on one hand the number of those friends who are still involved in full-time ministry. Maybe you’ve experienced something similar. Most of these friends of mine devoted several years of their lives to a university formation and tens of thousands of dollars to be trained for effective ministry. Yet, when I talk with former parish employees, the majority of them have fled from parish ministry with plenty of hurt and a noticeable level of bitterness toward their experience.

There’s a few obvious reasons—salary limitations and simply discerning a different calling are common ones. However, I’ve experienced another much more troubling and harmful reason: too often, Catholic parishes are some of the most dysfunctional places to work.

I can say this confidently having worked as a leadership consultant with hundreds of pastors who have told me this themselves, as well as having been an employee at two parishes myself. While a Catholic parish office is meant to be a hub of prayer, evangelization, and true Christian friendship, it is far more common that it is a festering pool for mediocrity, confusion, and frustration. This dynamic begs the question: why? What is causing this exodus from parish ministry?

The biggest reason people leave employment in a parish is not because of issues with liturgy, music, programs, or hospitality—things that often get lots of attention. They leave because the organization is unhealthy and tolerates low standards. Without healthy and clear leadership, the best homily or most dynamic video series will only get you so far. This is completely counterintuitive to almost everything that we are taught in studies and formation! We spend hours and hours crafting plans and reading theology (which are extremely important), yet almost no time learning how to effectively lead the people entrusted to us. When I discuss this with pastors, I can’t tell you the number of them who have incredulously told me, “No one ever teaches you this in seminary!”

St. Thomas Aquinas explained the imagination as “a storehouse of forms received through the senses” that are later called to mind.[1] St. Augustine considered it as a form of “spiritual vision,” distinct from our corporal and intellectual senses.[2] St. Theresa of Ávila described it as one of the most important powers of the soul.[3] Each of these Doctors of the Church spent ample time writing on the power of our imagination and its relationship to the life of faith. They understood that our imagination is part of our physical and spiritual nature. As such, it can affect our bodies and souls for good or for ill. Like all human faculties, our imagination must be trained and developed in order to be healthy, lest it become too weak or disordered—incapable of helping us enter into the reality of this life and the life to come. As catechists, we ought to consider how to form our imagination, and the imagination of those we teach, in the service of our call to holiness.

Jesus, as catechist par excellence, appealed to the imagination of his followers, painting elaborate scenarios. Most of his parables ask the listener to imagine a particular family, place, or circumstance that was common to life. We see him tell stories of disobedient sons (Mt 21:28–32), fiercely stubborn widows (Lk 18:1–8), harvesting wheat (Mt 13:24–30), and herding sheep (Lk 15:1–7). Some parables stretched the limits of the mind’s eye, appealing to circumstances less relatable but still within the grasp of a healthy imagination. Christ spoke of finding treasure (Mt 13:44–46), generous landowners (Mt 20:1–16), and extraordinarily compassionate fathers (Lk 15:11–32). Stories communicate truth and appeal to our imagination in ways that often transcend mere statements. The great southern Catholic author Flannery O’Connor once wrote, “a story is a way to say something that can’t be said any other way . . . You tell a story because a statement would be inadequate.”[4]

Forming a Healthy Imagination

The imagination is above all an integrative power. It reassembles the information that we take in through our senses for the purpose of calling to mind an object or experience in its absence or imagining something new and not yet experienced. I have never seen a purple dog, but I can imagine one. Unlike our external senses that can only perceive the object when it’s acting upon our sense organs, the imagination produces the sense of the object even when these objects are absent. For example, I can imagine a sunset and have its impression affect me without actually seeing it with my eyes.

Forming a healthy imagination requires having as much good and true sensory data as possible. This means that our experience of the natural world is critical, as it serves as the primary foundation of our imagination. As Sr. Thomas More Stepnowski, OP, explains, “the imagination assists in forming an ‘interior landscape’ of the spiritual life which helps us navigate through the dark valleys to the restorative green pastures.” She continues, “For Catholics, the imagination is not an escape to a fantasy world. The imagination aids us in seeing the real world by integrating the natural world and the supernatural world, the visible and invisible.”[5]

Most of us who serve as catechists in a religious education or youth ministry program share some common attributes:

• Our faith is important to us. It has served as a compass for our life;
• We want others to come to know the beauty of the Catholic faith;
• We answered a call for catechists—sometimes generously and sometimes reluctantly, only because we are aware of our limitations.

It’s vitally important to the life of the Church that our faith is handed on to the next generation with fidelity and accuracy. But it’s not always easy. Sometimes we are blessed with people who are sincerely interested in learning about our faith. But many times, if we are working with young people, we have people in front of us who are, at best, neutral toward faith and, at worst, a little hostile. If that is your situation, thank you! You are right where you are supposed to be.

If you’re catechizing the unenthused, I invite you to consider yourself not only a teacher of the faith but also a healer in faith. Behind those blank stares are young men and women who are probably carrying significant wounds—family wounds, relational difficulties, anxiety, depression, and loneliness to name just a few. Rather than being exasperated at the disinterest we see, can we look on our youth with the compassionate eyes of Jesus?

“When you love something so much, you talk about it. You can’t contain it. If you find something that you think is the greatest thing in the world, what teenager is quiet? There are none.” When I encountered that quote, my outlook on youth ministry changed. It was the day I realized that something was missing in our parishes. It was why, despite hundreds of thousands of Catholic teenagers attending youth groups, camps, and conferences every year, young people were still leaving the Church, some as young as ten years old.[i]

As those of us in the pews are getting older, more teenagers are becoming disaffiliated from religion. But this doesn’t mean that they aren’t religious or spiritual. Springtide Research Institute has interviewed and listened to teenagers (“Gen Z”) for several years. They are quick to point out that while many teenagers are no longer choosing to affiliate with a particular religion, teens are still very religious and spiritual. Furthermore, affiliation or disaffiliation doesn’t tell the whole story. Of “affiliated” Catholic teenagers, 49 percent say they have “little or no trust in organized religion.”[ii]

Almost half. That means that out of all those teenagers going to youth groups, sitting in religious education classes, and spending a week at camp—the ones who identify as Catholic—almost half of them don’t really trust the Church. It makes sense, then, why they choose to leave as time goes on. Why would you stay within an institution you don’t trust, especially one that is increasingly countercultural?

There is also a cost to being religious; we forgo certain things, do other things, and identify who we are through outward signs and behaviors. As secular culture becomes more antagonistic to religion, it forces teenagers who were raised Catholic but are perhaps lukewarm in their faith to make a decision: all in or all out. It is too costly to be a marginal Catholic; why deal with the persecution when you haven’t really bought into the faith in the first place?