Franciscan at Home

In this Year of the Priest, this article examines the importance of the Eucharistic Prayer in catechesis. This is a unique prayer because only the priest can say this prayer, and yet the prayer involves all of us. When the priest recites the prayer all of God’s People are taken up into this prayer and do extraordinary holy actions. In the central part of the Mass we remember Jesus who died for us and we become part of his sacrifice. The usual way to present the Eucharist and the Church is to say that it is the Church that makes the Eucharist. But in his encyclical on the Eucharist and the Church, Ecclesia de Eucharistia, John Paul II pointed out that we can also say that the Eucharist makes the Church. I would like to outline some of the important implications contained in this ancient formula for catechesis. In the first part of this article we shall focus upon memory and in the second part upon sacrifice, following the words of the Second Eucharistic Prayer: ‘In memory of his death and resurrection, we offer you, Father, this life-giving bread, this saving cup.’

En 1927, el gran teólogo Romano Guardini redactó su introducción a una breve serie de meditaciones que compiló bajo el título, Signos Sagrados. Explicó que los “capitulitos de este libro […] tienen por objeto ayudar al esclarecimiento del mundo de la Liturgia.” No se proponen para la catequesis en el sentido común; no son explicaciones del significado de los signos utilizados en la Liturgia, ni son descripciones de cómo llegaron a usarse en la Liturgia. Sus “pequeños ensayos” son más bien un auxilio sencillo para ayudarnos a “descubrir en la forma corpórea el fondo, en el cuerpo el alma, en el suceso terreno la virtud sagrada oculta.” Estos son los signos vivientes, los objetos y acciones por los cuales podemos empezar a comprender la gracia invisible que obra en la Liturgia. “La Liturgia es un mundo de realidades santas y misteriosas, representadas en forma sensible; tiene carácter sacramental.”

Esto, dice Guardini, “sí que es […] educación litúrgica” – proporcionar una “visión viviente” de lo sagrado en y por medio de estos signos. “La contemplación y la acción […] son las dos columnas”, afirma el autor, “en que más acertadamente descansa el edificio” de la enseñanza. Después, podemos iluminar mediante clara doctrina y acompañar nuestras explicaciones con una perspectiva histórica. Pero ante todo, intentemos proporcionar algo de la visión de lo sagrado.

Las entradas de este breve libro nos dicen lo que quiere decir: ‘Las manos’, ‘Arrodillarse’, ‘Caminar’, ‘Estar de pie’, ‘Dar golpes de pecho’ – acciones sencillas y básicas que acompañan a toda la Liturgia. Luego expone sobre los objetos que vemos alrededor nuestro – ‘Los escalones’, ‘Las puertas’, ‘Las velas’, y así sucesivamente. El Sembrador presentará una selección de este libro hermoso e irresistible en nuestros próximos números, como material de apoyo para los catequistas en su educación litúrgica y catequesis, con el doble anhelo de inspirar y de informar.

Full of Mystery

Water is full of mystery.  Quite clear and simple – chaste, as St Francis calls it.  Quite unpretentious, as if it would signify nothing in itself.  Selfless, we might say: only there to serve others, to cleanse and to refresh.

This liturgical meditation is taken from Romano Guardini's book, Sacred Signs.

We have often gone into church through the door. And each time it has said something. Have we realised it? What is the door there for? Perhaps this question astonishes you. ‘So that we may go in and out,’ you answer. It is not a difficult question – you are right: but to go in and out there is no need of a door! Any opening in the wall would be enough, with a few planks and beams for opening and closing. People could go in and out; it would be cheap and just as useful: but it would not be a door. A door does more than merely serve this purpose – it talks.

Just think – when you pass between the portals you feel: ‘Now I am leaving outside things – I am walking in.’ Outside is the world – beautiful, full of life and activity – but also with much that is ugly, low. It has the character of a market: everyone is running about, everything is spread out on show. We will not call it wicked, but still something of that kind the world has in it.

How can we ensure a liturgical approach in our catechesis?

The heart of what the Church means by liturgical catechesis is that we proceed from ‘the visible to the invisible, from the sign to the thing signified, from the sacraments to the mysteries’ (CCC 1075). This is the secret of all good liturgical catechesis! Liturgy, after all, enables a spiritual encounter with Christ Our Lord – which is why the liturgy is described is the summit towards which the activity of the Church is directed’ (CCC 1074).

We could say that there are three aspects to liturgical catechesis:

Firstly, there is the catechetical preparation for liturgy: we can call this ‘teaching to the Rite’. We catechise about the Liturgy so that people know what to expect, so that they are taught the meaning of what they will see and experience.

Secondly, there is the catechesis that takes place through the liturgy itself: Christ and His Bride instruct us by means of the liturgy, enlightening the mind and the heart.

Thirdly, there is the catechesis that follows from the grace of the liturgy: this is called ‘mystagogia’.

Our focus in this article is on the first of these three – we are looking at how to catechise so as to prepare people for the liturgy. We also give concrete suggestions for how to provide opportunities for those being catechised to experience liturgy more, and so be catechised by the liturgy itself.

This liturgical meditation is taken from Guardini’s book, Sacred Signs.

We have spoken of reverence towards the eternal God as demanding a definite, respectful attitude. He is so great, and we are so little, that we must acknowledge this even outwardly: it makes us small, it bids us kneel.

But this reverence can also be shown in another way. Imagine that you are lolling in a chair, either at rest or chatting with others. Someone comes who is worthy of special respect and begins to speak to you. Immediately you stand up and hold yourself upright, while you hear and answer. What does this signify?

Standing signifies, above all, that we pull ourselves together. Instead of the slack position of sitting, we take up a stiff, controlled attitude. It means that we are attentive: we are, as soldiers say, ‘at attention’. Standing has in it something of stress, of watchfulness. It shows that we are ready: he who stands can immediately go off here or there; he can undertake any task without delay; he can begin any work, as soon as he is shown what to do.

This liturgical meditation is take from Guardini's book, Sacred Signs.

The whole body is the tool and the expression of the soul. The soul does not merely dwell in the body, as if it dwelt in a house, but it lives and works in every member and every fibre. It speaks in every line, and form, and movement of the body. But in a very special way the face and the hand are the tool and the mirror of the soul.

This is obvious with regard to the face. But watch anyone – yourself – and see how a movement of temper, of joy, of astonishment, of expectation is revealed by the hand. How often a quick raising, or a slight twitch of the hand says more even than a spoken word. It appears sometimes as if a spoken word were almost coarse compared with the delicate language of the hand, which tells so much.

After the face, the hand is the most spiritual part of the body. It is truly firm and strong, as the tool for work, as the weapon for attack or defence; but it is very delicately formed, with many joints, flexible and penetrated with sensitive nerves of feeling. It is truly a machine through which man can reveal his soul. By the hand we welcome the stranger and join souls when we join hands – with this act we express trust, joy, agreement, sympathy.

On the Spot urges us to connect our catechesis on the Church to that of the Eucharist.

We know that providing authentic teaching on the Church and on the Eucharist is absolutely central to our catechesis. This is the case not least because of the intrinsic importance of these subjects but also because of the many misunderstandings and limited views people hold on both of these areas of the Faith. I would like to identify here some of the more common misunderstandings and limitations concerning the Church and the Eucharist. I also want to suggest that we catechise strongly on the two topics together in order to avoid falling into these difficulties. Catechesis on the Church and catechesis on the Eucharist in fact belong closely together for another and deeper reason—because, in the words of the Catechism, ‘the Eucharist makes the Church’ (CCC 1396).

In 1927, the great theologian Romano Guardini wrote his introduction to a short series of meditations which he collected under the title, Sacred Signs. He explained the purpose of these ‘little essays’ as ‘intended to help in opening the door to the liturgical world’. They are not intended as catechesis in the usual sense; they are not explanations of the meaning of the signs we use in liturgy, nor are they descriptions of how they came to be used in the liturgy. Rather they are are simple aids to helping us ‘to read in outer form the inner state: to read from the body what is in the soul; to read from the earthly process what is spiritual and hidden.’ These are the living signs, objects and actions through which we can begin to grasp the invisible grace at work in the liturgy. ‘The liturgy is a world of sacred and hidden events which have taken visible shape – it is sacramental.’

This, Guardini says, in ‘liturgical education’ – to provide a ‘living vision’ of the sacred in and through these signs. ‘Seeing and doing are the groundwork’, he claims, on which teaching can most properly be founded. We can then illustrate with clear doctrine and accompany our explanations with a historical perspective. But first of all, let us try to give something of the vision of the sacred.

The entries in the short book tell us what he means: ‘The Hand’, ‘Kneeling’, ‘’Walking’, ‘Standing’, ‘Striking the Breast’ – simple and basic actions which accompany all liturgy. And then the objects we see around us – ‘The Steps’, ‘The Door’, ‘The Candle’, and so on. The Sower will be presenting a selection from this beautiful and compelling book in its forthcoming issues, as a further aid to catechists for use in their liturgical education and catechesis, hoping both to inspire and to inform.

This feature aims to highlight some of the complex positions, questions and comments experienced by catechists, teachers and parents. It tries to outline the knowledge necessary to be faithful to Church teaching and which will best help those we teach who call us to account for the hope that is in us (cf I Peter 3:15).

In this issue, On the Spot looks at some of the questions raised by those helping to celebrate a Liturgy of the Word for Children on Sundays.

Louisa is a young mother with two small children, a part-time job and a non-Catholic husband who usually attends Mass with her. Recently, the parish priest has approached her to see if she will help on Sunday mornings with the Liturgy of the Word for Children (henceforth LWC). Louisa was unsure. In talking it over with her, it became apparent that her concerns fell into three main areas:

She was not sure of the purpose of the liturgy of the word for children.
She was not sure if she would be able to prepare suitable material or to control the children effectively.
She was not sure of how participating in this way would affect her own family’s faith development.

The parish priest, of course, did not put her ‘on the spot’; Louisa was fortunate in having time to think about it and to discuss it with her family and other people who were able to advise her. Having decided to take part in this, at least occasionally, Louisa was more conscious of the misconceptions and concerns of other parents concerning the liturgy of the word for children.

When talking with Louisa, it became apparent that it was first necessary to deal with what the LWC was not—before we could consider its proper purpose.