Franciscan at Home

John tells the story this way: There was a wedding in Cana. Mary was there as a guest. So was Jesus, her Son. So were His first disciples. Mary noticed that the wine was running short, a terrible embarrassment to the hosts of the wedding. In going to her Son, Mary simply said: ‘They have no wine.’ Imagine Jesus looking at her deeply, accompanied with a bit of a sigh. ‘How does this concern me? My hour has not yet come.’ The best was yet to come. Mary’s response. She said nothing. She found the wine servers. She pointed back to her Son. She said: ‘Do whatever he tells you.’ And that was her exit out of the story. She left it up to her Son Who instructed the servers to fill the large stone jars with water. That water became the good wine. That good wine was the beginning of the signs and wonders that ‘revealed His glory’ to the world, even and especially to this day. John’s story of the Wedding Feast of Cana is like peeling an onion. There are so many layers, ever so delicate and unique that we can gather from this chapter of Scripture.

Saints offer us living theology. How do we draw on the saints for this living theology, both for our own lives and for our work as catechists?

In my experience as a catechist, I have found that, in general, people relate to saints in one of three basic ways.

First, there are those who have little or no relationship with saints. Secondly, there are those whose love for the saints may indeed replace their relationship with the members of the Blessed Trinity, or may border on superstition. Thirdly, there are those who understand that the saints lead us to the intense relationship with the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.

The key to understanding the saints is that they lead us into relationship with God and with others. In our desire to follow the example of the saints, we cannot just be configured into a narrow relationship of the ‘saint and me’. Saints did not, and we do not, live in isolation.

Teaching on St Catherine of Siena can be a powerful and inspiring way to teach a love for the Church.

‘Be certain of this…if I die, the cause of my death is the zeal which burns and consumes me for the Church. I suffer gladly, and am ready to die for her, if need be.'[i] Saint Catherine of Siena

When was the last time you headed off to your RCIA class or Religious Education class with such bold desire to sacrifice your life for your lesson on ecclesiology?! Yet, is this not the fire that every catechist is called to have for Holy Mother Church? While St. Catherine of Siena may not be your average ‘catechist,’ nevertheless, this fiery woman of Tuscany has a lesson or two to teach us about catechesis and loving the Church. We should not be surprised that they are the same lessons, on the nature and mission of the Church, which we find in the Church’s magisterial documents.

We have just finished celebrating the Year of St Paul, and it is fitting that the theme for this issue of The Sower is ‘Loving the Church’, for that is a wonderfully succinct way of summing up the essence of Saul’s conversion and of his receiving a new name rooted in a new calling. Saul was converted to an abiding love for the Church.

After all, what was Saul before his conversion? He was one who loathed the Church. He found the Church not so much irrelevant or simply unattractive, as deeply offensive and hateful—to himself and, he was convinced, to the God of his fathers. Saul, we know from the Acts of the Apostles, was present for the stoning of Stephen: those who had acted as the witnesses against Stephen, the first Christian martyr, ‘laid down their garments at the feet of a young man named Saul’ (Acts 7:58). ‘And Saul was consenting to his death’ (8:1). Following the death of Stephen, Acts describes how Saul ‘laid waste the Church’ (8:3). He ‘dragged off men and women and committed them to prison’ (8:3), ‘breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord’ (9:1).

Saul’s conversion was a complete turning around, a total change of direction, so that what was hated now became the occasion for his deepest and most ardent love. The Risen Jesus appeared just as Saul had apparently gained new powers for persecution of these followers of ‘the Way’ (9:2). After this meeting, Saul completes his journey to Damascus, no longer seeking those whom he might imprison but, in his own words, ‘a prisoner of Christ Jesus’ (Philemon 1). The capturer has been captured. His physical journey and destination is unchanged, but he has undergone a dramatic spiritual reversal of direction. He receives a new name, Paul, and a new vocation. There is a ‘new creation’ and now nothing else is to count for anything apart from this new reality, this new love (see Gal 6:15).mHis persecution of the Church is now to be remembered as his most reprehensible activity: he is ‘the least of the apostles, unfit to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God’ (1 Cor 15:9).

‘Catechists…are the ambassadors of Christ, God as it were exhorting by their mouths. They have the honor of collaborating in the spread of the Gospel in virtue of divine power. Their office is not derived from men but from God through Jesus Christ.

‘This consciousness of the Christian teachers’ divine mission must be the law of his moral attitude, the first rule of his thoughts and discourses, the basis of all his activity. It must arouse in him the sentiments of his duty and dignity and counteract the ennui of daily routine. In the life of St. Paul it created two sentiments, two passions, one might say: a high-mindedness without pride and a devotion without reserve.’[i]

St. Paul knew that God has made it possible for every person to know right from wrong. He lived in a world fraught with political turmoil. As a Jew, he was exposed to the bickering between the various sects of Judaism. And as such he was also a victim of the oppression of the Roman occupiers of his land. Later, as he traveled throughout the Mediterranean, he was often dragged into court, and finally he died at the hands of the Roman Emperor Nero.

In this issue of The Sower, Sr Johanna Paruch continues to focus on St. Paul as the outstanding catechetical saint for our times.

In his audience on October 8, 2008, Pope Benedict continued his addresses to celebrate the year of St. Paul. He was speaking of Paul’s treatment of Jesus’ teaching, ‘when he brings about a form of transposition of the pre-Paschal tradition to the situation after Easter.’ Pope Benedict wants to show us that St Paul is true to the teaching of Christ, even though the ways in which he presents the teaching of Christ can be very different. Benedict notes that this fidelity is particularly apparent when Paul writes about the Kingdom.

‘For example, the parable of the Pharisee and the publican (cf. Lk 18:9-14), imparts a teaching that is found exactly as it is in Paul, when he insists on the proper exclusion of any boasting to God. Even Jesus’ sentences on publicans and prostitutes, who were more willing to accept the Gospel than the Pharisees (cf. Matt 21:31; Lk 7:36-50) and his decision to share meals with them (cf. Matt 9: 10-13; Lk 15:1-2) are fully confirmed in Paul’s teaching on God's merciful love for sinners (cf. Rom 5: 8-10; and also Eph 2:3-5). Thus the theme of the Kingdom of God is reproposed in a new form, but always in full fidelity to the tradition of the historical Jesus.’

Jesus announces, ‘This is the time of fulfillment. The Kingdom of God is at hand. Repent, and believe in the Gospel’ (Mk 1:14). The proclamation of the kingdom by Jesus is, as we know, the very heart of his message. Pope Benedict confirms that this provides us with the core content of the Gospel. He writes, ‘The Kingdom of God is at hand. A milestone is set up in the flow of time: something new takes place. And an answer to this gift is demanded of man: conversion and faith. The center of this announcement is the message that God’s kingdom is at hand.’[i]

As I read the Holy Father’s homily preached as he formally opened the Pauline Year, I was struck by his repeated emphasis of the shared martyrdom of Peter and Paul. In the Catholic Church it is the practice to commemorate the anniversary of the deaths of its saints rather than their births, except for those of Mary and John the Baptist. Their deaths are, however, really their births into a new and heavenly life.

In the light of Christ’s passion and death, Christians should expect to suffer, and perhaps to die for him. Already in the Old Testament, suffering was a part of the price made for following the will of God. Abraham, Moses and David were all wrenched from their previous way of life to answer in obedience God’s special call to them. The prophets experienced the same thing. Jeremiah protests:

‘The word of the LORD came to me thus: “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I dedicated you, a prophet to the nations I appointed you.” “Ah, Lord God,” I said, “I know not how to speak; I am too young.” But the LORD answered me, “Say not, ‘I am too young.’ To whomever I send you, you shall go; whatever I command you, you shall speak.” ’ (Jer 1:4-7).

Paul echoes this in the account of his conversion in his Letter to the Galatians. He speaks of God, ‘who from my mother’s womb had set me apart and called me through his grace’, who then ‘was pleased to reveal his Son to me, so that I might proclaim him to the Gentiles’ (Gal 1:15-16).

If St. Paul were visiting us her today, what advice would he give to catechists?

Dynamic catechesis is a dialogue of salvation. In this sacred conversation we share the revelation of Jesus Christ and invite our hearers to faith. Catechesis is an act of communication. It is a form of communion with others.

Among other examples of catechesis in the New Testament, I draw your attention to three of them in Paul’s First Letter to the Corinthians. Paul involves himself personally and passionately with people. He speaks. He listens. He persuades. He testifies. He trusts enthusiastically in the power of the Spirit to convince his listeners. If he were visiting us today, I think he would inspire us to use the following guidelines for catechesis.

Share the theology of the Cross
Illumine the hope of the Resurrection
Explain the Power of the Eucharist

‘I know that St Peter was a Catholic; was St Paul one as well?’

The Year of St Paul begins on 28th June 2008 and runs until June 29th 2009. This is the Year offered to us by the Church during which we can learn to appreciate even better the catholicity of St Paul. A consideration of this parishioner’s apparently naïve question can yield surprising insights and might provide us with food for thought when we are wondering what we might highlight during the coming Year. An immediate response to the question would be to point out that the Year begins on the Feast of St Peter and St Paul: the Church holds the two great Apostles together in her celebrations, in her memory, in her prayers. They are both of them together pillars and foundations of the Church; together they inspire the mission of the Church in every age. If we know that St Peter was a Catholic, we might think it a rational presumption that St Paul was as well!

As Catholics, we have the blessing of guidance from the See in which both St Peter and St Paul spent their final days. The first thing we can do is to avail ourselves of the grace of this Year dedicated to St Paul, and encourage those whom we are catechising to do the same. On May 10th the Holy See announced the indulgences which would be made available for participation in the Year. ‘Indulgences’ can remind us vividly of St Paul’s own deep awareness of the mercy of God. The Year is to be a Year of Grace, a Year of God’s special outpouring of loving-kindness.

In his Letter to the Romans, undoubtedly the greatest and most demanding of his Letters, Paul reflects on the history of salvation, in which human disobedience is met with ever-greater acts of divine kindness and indulgence, culminating in the disobedience of all, so that God ‘may have mercy on all’. He sings, ‘O the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgements and how inscrutable his ways!’ (Rom.11:33) God’s goodness and mercy so far transcend all that we can comprehend, as he turns all misery and sin into an opportunity for blessing: O felix cupla! This great hymn of praise is the pivot on which the Letter to the Romans turns, and St Paul then leads us into a profound consideration of human ethics and behaviour. Faced with the reality of God’s merciful action in our lives, how should we act? Listen to his language as he begins this section: ‘I appeal to you therefore, brethren, by the mercy of God…’ (12:1). Paul’s ‘therefore’ is meant seriously: act out of the mercy which you yourself have received. Paul’s ethics are a treatise on the practice of mercy.

As we begin the Year of St Paul, Alan Schreck assists us in our appreciation of the saints as the greatest educators.

The greatest teachers of the Catholic Church are her saints. True, many of them were not articulate or great preachers, and some were even illiterate. Nevertheless, they are recognised as ‘saints’ because their lives provide us with the clearest and the best instruction in what the Christian life is all about. And what is it all about? In a single word: Holiness, which means becoming like God in character and virtue. What does holiness look like? We see it most perfectly displayed in the Son of God incarnate (God among us in person, or literally ‘in the flesh’), Jesus Christ. But a nearly perfect reflection of holiness, the character and virtue of God himself, is seen in the saints. The saints teach us most fully what God intended us all to be and to become - truly God-like.

If we look at the ‘reflection’ of God in the saints, we don’t find just a single image or portrait, but a marvellous collage of images of God and his love as different as the sun and the moon, or as mountains and the ocean. There were saints who were kings and queens, and beggars; great intellectuals, and simple priests (like St. John Vianney) who couldn’t learn their Latin; girls and boys and octogenarians; world-traversing missionaries and mystics in their cloisters; bloodstained martyrs and ‘clowns’ of God (like St. Philip Neri). There were soldiers (from St. George to St. Joan), prophets and prophetesses, religious foundresses and mothers, servants of the poor and needy...yes, and even some who were teachers by profession. What they all have in common is a passionate love of God that grew in their souls and finally burst into full blossom. Marvellously, there is a saint for everybody - some saint whose life and experience will uniquely touch a particular person and open them more fully to God. The saints remind us of what we are all made for.