Franciscan at Home

“Timing is everything,” it is often said, and if that be true, the time seems particularly right for a reflection on “Catechesis for Those Returning to the Church.” Consider the times in which we are living.

During the ‘Year for Priests’ (2009-2010) we have witnessed a time of grace, deepened understanding and increased prayer for priests and priestly vocations which, among the many pastoral initiatives of Pope Benedict’s pontificate, we will always be thankful. In this year now passed, with his predecessors throughout the twentieth century, Pope Benedict wished to raise up in our sight the priestly figure of St. John Mary Vianney. Father Julian Green and others have, in recent editions of The Sower, provided us with excellent articles on the perennial importance of the Curé of Ars as a guide, in the Holy Father’s words, to a ‘renewed appreciation of the grandeur and beauty of the priestly ministry’.[i] In these Bishop’s Notes I wish to draw attention to what we might call ‘echoes from Ars’ which continue to resonate for all of us engaged in pastoral work and catechesis and here to trace something of what we might call the pastoral plan of this Parish Priest whose example does not fade.

When I was a student in Rome, Thursday was our day-off and we’d often go out of the city to explore different places nearby. I’ll never forget going into a magnificent, mediaeval church with an eye-catching mosaic high-up over the altar. It depicted Christ the Good Shepherd, preaching to his disciples; all sat at his feet eagerly listening. But when you got a bit closer, something about the mosaic seemed odd. Why was it that Christ’s rob were not white but dirty-brown? Why were his listeners laughing, some drinking, everyone clearly having a good time? One was fox dressed up as a bishop.

It was only when you stood underneath the mosaic that the dreadful truth slowly dawned on you. This was not Christ at all! It was the False Prophet, Lucifer, the so-called Light-Bearer, the one who looks like Christ, but is anything other. Beware of false prophets who come disguised as sheep but underneath are ravening wolves.

We inhabit a noisy, busy, celebrity culture with many experts competing for our attention. Yet in the Gospel Jesus urges us to be critical, discerning, to sift truth from falsehood, to be sensible people, building our homes not on sand but on the rock of truth.

On August 21, 2012, the feast of St. Pius X, then-Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio—now Pope Francis—published a letter to the catechists of his Archdiocese of Buenos Aires. This is an exclusive English translation of that letter.

“In those days, Mary arose and went with haste into the hill country, to a city of Judah, and she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth.”  (Lk 1:39)

Dear Catechists,

We say at the end of the creed, ‘I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic Church, the communion of saints…’ This ‘communion of saints’ is a very important mystery of our faith. And yet our faith in that mystery can pass ‘just like that.’ We say, ‘. . . the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins . . . ‘ Do we allow those phrases in the Creed to just slip by because we get used to them?

We should be mindful of the mystery of the communion of saints and remember that we live out that communion most especially at the Mass. When we get to the moment of the great Eucharistic Prayer and we are invited to ‘lift up our hearts,’ that means we are going mystically to heaven. Through the liturgy of the Church, the Holy Spirit reminds us of all the truth about Jesus. And at the Mass we are lifted mystically up to heaven and there we are with the Lord, with Mary, the Queen of all Saints, with Joseph, with all of the Apostles, and the martyrs, and the angels. We are lifted up to be with all the saints.

What reverence should overtake us during the Eucharistic prayer! We should be overcome with reverence because, in a mystical way, we get to be right there with the saints in heaven and, very importantly too, we get to be with all the souls in purgatory.

November is the month in which we especially focus upon the communion of saints and of the holy souls and we should remember that the closest we can come to our loved ones who have died, the closest that I can come to my mother and father, to my grandparents, to all my family members and good friends who have died, the closest that I can get to them, to be one with them in prayer is at Mass!

Catholic Schools Week gives us all an opportunity to express our gratitude to the parents and families, pastors and parishes who entrust to us the privilege of teaching, and sharing in the Church’s teaching mission. They are good supporters of our work, and with them we share the weighty responsibility of bringing children to Jesus Christ; and bringing Jesus Christ to our children.

During these special days, I hope that you as administrators, teachers and staff, also hear the appreciation of God’s people for your vital work. You are the teaching Christ. You are participants in the work of the bishops, shepherding our young people. You are close co-workers with the parents. You love these children and spend so many hours with them, not only instructing them but also forming them in mind, heart, body and soul. You listen to them and correct them and encourage them. Sometimes you toss and turn at night because of them.

Thank you, dear teachers. Thank you for answering God’s call – fulfilling not just the contractual obligations of a job, but carefully and prayerfully responding to a vocation. When I was at one of the schools recently and asked the students what they were doing during Catholic Schools Week, one young boy answered that they were going to have a teacher appreciation day. He whispered to me that exactly what they were going to do was a secret. I hope you have received many signs of thanks and affection from your students.

I want to write about loving the Church. This is especially important in an era when so many institutions are no longer loved and are subject to much cynicism.

The announcement of Pope Benedict’s State Visit to England almost two years ago seemed to awaken hostility to the Catholic Church to a degree unknown in our own life-times. I could not help but recall in the moments of prayer in the chapel at Oscott College before the Holy Father’s final address to the Bishops of England and Wales, that Blessed John Henry Newman had come close to offending an earlier gathering of England’s Hierarchy when speaking of the disregarded position of the Catholic Church in the England of a century and a half ago: “The utter contempt into which Catholicism had fallen by the time we were born,” Newman had painfully explained, “you alas, know it far better that I can know it…a few adherents of the Old Religion, moving silently and sorrowfully about as memorials to what had been.” He went on to warn the bishops assembled in those same benches that they must anticipate martyrdom even in Nineteenth Century England. “We are engaged in a great, a joyful work,” declared Blessed John Henry, “but in proportion to God’s grace is the fury of His enemies...”

Do we, does each one of us Christians, believe in God’s love, which stretches over and covers the entire world and each one of us? Deists—and many Christians—say, “I believe in the Creator of the world, but I don’t believe he plays a role in the life of the world.” St. John Chrysostom says that those within the bosom of Christ’s Church who reason in this way are worse and more dangerous than unbelievers. We may boldly, and without fear of error, add to the words of this “Teacher of the Whole World” that the rejection of God’s Providence—that is, the rejection of God's continued care for the world—contradicts reason.

My dear ones, we know that the Creator’s plan for the world is a loving plan. And therefore it is impossible for God the Creator to deprive the world of His care.