Franciscan at Home

In 2005, the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops published The National Directory for Catechesis, which states, “each person with a disability has catechetical needs that the Christian community must recognize and meet. All baptized persons with disabilities have a right to adequate catechesis and deserve the means to develop a relationship with God.”[1] My interest and involvement in the religious formation of children with disabilities has its roots in personal experience. As I searched for answers about what was best for our family, I found that our story was common; and though some students are being catechized at home, students absent from their parish faith formation programs are missing a fundamental element of the Christian faith: community.

Where are the Children with Disabilities?
Like most parents, I never imagined my child would need special education. My husband and I had a dream and a goal to educate our children in Catholic schools for grades K-12. When our fifth child, Grace, entered kindergarten that dream began to crumble. I knew, from her first day, Grace would need extra help staying seated, lining up, and waiting her turn. What I didn’t realize was that her lack of eye contact, inability to remember the names of extended family, and obsession with dinosaurs were indicators of an Autism Spectrum Disorder, a diagnosis we would not receive until the summer after her kindergarten year. Gracie’s deficits in communication skills were seen as disrespect, her lack of social skills as unkindness towards classmates, and her sensory sensitivities as immature, even wild behavior. My husband and I made the decision then to let go of our dream, and Grace joined the 13 percent of students who receive special education services in public school.[2] We knew that we needed to provide our child with her faith formation; we chose to home school in the beginning. For three years we taught Grace and prepared her for First Reconciliation and First Communion using our parish faith formation program materials.

Public school students comprise the majority of the children who attend Catholic faith formation programs. If 13% of children in public school receive special education services, it would be fair to assume that 13 % (1 in every 8) of the students in faith formation programs require some kind of educational support to optimize their learning outcomes. John Paul II defined the optimal learning outcome for religious education: “The definitive aim of catechesis is to put people not only in touch, but also in communion and intimacy, with Jesus Christ…”[3] In the Catholic tradition, this also includes the preparation and reception of the Sacraments of Reconciliation, Eucharist, and Confirmation.

The numbers of students with disabilities in our faith formation programs do not match the statistics. Parents may be withholding information about their children’s needs or not enrolling them at all. The reasons for this vary. Parents of children with disabilities often have many additional obligations in the care of their children. There are medical appointments, therapy appointments, and additional meetings each school year with teachers and support staff at the child’s school. Some parents may just be at the limit of what they can manage. Some families may have already experienced rejection from their faith community and believe that their parish faith formation program cannot or will not accommodate their child’s needs.[4] Children with disabilities must be included in Catholic faith formation programs. Getting them there is a matter of creating inclusive Christian communities that will welcome children with disabilities and their families.

Luego de una larga sucesión de documentos magisteriales orientados a la importancia de un ambiente comunitario que fomente el cultivo de la vocación de cada miembro[1], el Documento Preparatorio de la próxima XV Asamblea General Ordinaria del Sínodo de los Obispos, “Los jóvenes, la fe y el discernimiento vocacional” [2], declara:

"Toda la comunidad cristiana debe sentirse responsable de la tarea de educar a las nuevas generaciones y debemos reconocer que son muchas las figuras de cristianos que la asumen, empezando por quienes se comprometen dentro de la vida eclesial. […] En todas las partes del mundo existen parroquias, congregaciones religiosas, asociaciones, movimientos y realidades eclesiales capaces de proyectar y ofrecer a los jóvenes experiencias de crecimiento y de discernimiento realmente significativas."[3]

A lo largo de mis años de servicio en el ministerio, en todas las pláticas que he escuchado, y aun las que en ocasiones he dado, el enfoque suele orientarse al cultivo de la propia vida espiritual por medio de la oración personal y la vida sacramental de la Iglesia. Aparte de la importancia de la vida espiritual[4], y sin restarle nada a la necesidad del acompañamiento en el discernimiento, lo cual es un tema central del Documento Preparatorio[5], quisiera enfocar una realidad frecuentemente olvidada en el campo del discernimiento vocacional: la comunidad. Ya que el próximo Sínodo centrará la atención en la juventud, dirijo mis pensamientos a las comunidades de adultos quienes atienden o enseñan a los jóvenes (por ej. equipos nucleares de pastoral juvenil, catequistas, profesores de escuela, etc.).

En lugar de citar múltiples razones por las que una comunidad de discernimiento sea esencial en el discernimiento vocacional, quisiera mejor proporcionar algunas consideraciones para el cultivo de este tipo de comunidad. El Documento Preparatorio resalta esta necesidad, ya que dice:

"A veces esta dimensión proyectiva [de experiencias de crecimiento y de discernimiento para los jóvenes] deja espacio a la improvisación y a la incompetencia: es un riesgo del cual defenderse tomando cada vez más en serio la tarea de pensar, concretizar, coordinar y realizar la pastoral juvenil de modo correcto, coherente y eficaz. Aquí también se impone la necesidad de una preparación específica y continua de los formadores."[6]

No me declaro experto en el tema, ni puedo proporcionar un “plan pastoral” comprensivo, pero sí me daba cuenta de la importancia del cultivo de una comunidad que conduzca al discernimiento vocacional durante mi tiempo como agente de la pastoral juvenil rodeado de un equipo de adultos voluntarios. Apoyándome principalmente en mi propia experiencia en la pastoral juvenil, quizás algunas de mis percepciones puedan servir como catalizador para cultivar un ambiente comunitario que fomente el discernimiento vocacional. Aunque mis ejemplos provengan de la pastoral juvenil parroquial y una comunidad de voluntarios que prestan su servicio en el marco de un equipo nuclear, muchas de estas nociones son también aplicables a otras organizaciones o estructuras parroquiales o escolares, e incluso a la misma familia.

Following a long line of magisterial documents that address the importance of a communal environment conducive to fostering one's vocation,[1] the Preparatory Document <

Examinamos las implicaciones concretas de una catequesis inspirada por la pedagogía de Dios.

En la última edición de The Sower notamos la centralidad del concepto de la pedagogía de Dios en el Directorio General para la Catequesis. Vemos que el Pedagogo es el mismo Dios y que los catequistas trabajan dentro de la pedagogía de Dios. "La catequesis, en cuanto comunicación de la Revelación divina, se inspira radicalmente en la pedagogía de Dios tal como se realiza en Cristo y en la Iglesia" (DGC 143). Como Pedagogo, la labor de Dios es la de disciplinar, o 'discipular' a su pueblo. En este artículo haremos un examen de las implicaciones concretas de este discipulado de Dios para nuestra labor catequética.

Una catequesis de gracia

El punto central que establece el Directorio General para la Catequesis es que la iniciativa en la catequesis pertenece, por encima de todo, a Dios mismo. La "transmisión del Evangelio por medio de la Iglesia es, ante todo y siempre, obra del Espíritu Santo" (DGC 138). La labor del catequista siempre es la de colaborar, ayudar, preparar, y trabajar con docilidad en la obra mayor del Señor. En verdad podemos tener la certeza de saber que, en la obra catequética, los frutos quedan en las manos del Señor. La fe es siempre un don divino (cf. Mat 16:17; 1 Cor 12:3).

Una catequesis exitosa, por lo tanto, no trata principalmente de aprender conjuntos mayores y mejores de habilidades. El catequista, por consiguiente, pone énfasis en la "iniciativa divina" (DGC 143), evitando toda confusión entre "la acción salvífica de Dios, que es pura gracia, con la acción pedagógica del hombre" (DGC 144). Luego, el DGC añade con cautela: "pero tampoco las contrapone y separa." El catequista no debe de confundirse con Dios - pero tampoco se le debe hacer a un lado. Él, también, por más insignificante que sea en comparación, ¡aún tiene una función que desempeñar! Las habilidades de enseñanza no son irrelevantes, ya que, aunque no podamos por nuestros propios esfuerzos hacer surgir la fe, sí podemos ayudar a los demás a que se preparen para la recepción y la profundización del don de la fe.

It would certainly be less work to use plastic beads for sorting in Montessori school or use battery operated candles to minimize clean up. However, the artificial does not hold the same attraction for young children as the real.

In our catechetical work, whatever methods we use, we may be tempted to avoid the real because it’s messy, risky, uncomfortable, expensive, and requires more work. Our parish youth minister does an activity with teens using lighted candles to remember babies whose lives were ended by abortion. The first year, the parish maintenance staff was more than a little displeased by the extra work involved in cleaning wax from the floor. The next year our youth minister considered using battery operated candles, but his team agreed that the symbol of the living flame being snuffed out is more powerful with a real candle; so, although it took more time and effort, they devised ways to keep the candles from dripping on the floor.

Real is Beautiful

We all find the real more beautiful than the artificial. Who does not prefer the glow of candlelight to other forms of lighting? A fine linen napkin is more beautiful than the best paper product, and silk flowers are only attractive in as much as they approximate the blooms they imitate.

In remarks to artists, Pope Benedict XVI connects reality and beauty: “the experience of beauty does not remove us from reality; on the contrary, it leads to a direct encounter with the daily reality of our lives, liberating it from darkness, transfiguring it, making it radiant and beautiful.”[i] In the remainder of this article we explore some practical ways catechists can honor the orientation of the human person toward reality.

Victory Over Death and Darkness

Ten years ago I woke up from a medical coma in Billings, Montana.

Five days earlier, while I was working at a Catholic ranch for delinquent youth in northwest Wyoming, I was nearly killed. One night, while we were camping out at a site in the middle of the Wyoming high desert, in an attempt to steal the keys to a truck so they could escape from the ranch, four teenage boys waited until I fell asleep. I was in a sleeping bag under the stars. They snuck out of their tent and picked up irrigation shovels nearby. Their goal was to knock me out so they could easily steal the keys. They gathered around me, counted to 3, and then repeatedly pummeled my head—about 8-10 hits—causing a skull fracture and blood clot on my brain. One boy, not involved in the assault, ran to the staff house to get help.

Help arrived. I was airlifted to Billings. The following morning I had head surgery—a 3-inch by 3-inch piece of skull was removed (to be replaced 5 months later)—to address the bleeding on my brain and swelling. Had this boy not ran, I would have bled to death that night.

He saved my life.

Since its initial presentation almost forty years ago, Pope St. John Paul II’s catechesis Man and Woman He Created Them (henceforth “Theology of the Body” or TOB) has borne inestimable fruits in the personal faith lives of countless men and women, in the life of the Church and its theology, and in the world at large. In my own work, I have seen firsthand just how transformative the TOB vision of sex, love, marriage, human personhood, and the mystery of redemption in Christ can be for those answering Christ’s call to discipleship. So much good has come from St. John Paul II’s gift to the Church that I think we can rightly stand in awe of all that God has been able to accomplish by way of this singular catechesis.

At the same time, I realize, like so many others, that we are still just tapping into the full potential of TOB and that important elements of the catechesis have yet to make their full impact.

One of those underdeveloped elements is what St. John Paul II refers to as “an anthropology of the resurrection,” which he describes as having “key meaning for the formation of our theological anthropology as a whole” (TOB 66:6).[MOU1] In saying this, St. John Paul II teaches us that the truth of the resurrection and the glorified state of humanity in heaven are decisive for our self-understanding and for understanding how God is working in us already in this life. Rather than being merely something that we celebrate at Easter and in our other liturgies, or merely something we look forward to in the next life, the resurrection is a truth of our faith that has great significance for our daily lives in the here and now.

To help us bring the relevance of the resurrection into our daily lives, St. John Paul II encourages us to cultivate “the hope of everyday” (TOB 86:6-8), which extends our hope in the resurrection of the dead in the future world of heaven into an expectation that the saving power of God will begin to conquer the death of sin and give us a newness of life in Jesus Christ already in this world. Simply put, hope enables us to grasp that if God can raise a corpse to everlasting life in him in heaven, then God can even make sinners like us holy in this life. The hope of everyday essentially means being convinced that he is going to do both.

What is the goal of catechesis? To make the faith the center of our lives. St. John Paul II made this clear: “Catechesis aims therefore at developing understanding of the mystery of Christ in the light of God's word, so that the whole of a person's humanity is impregnated by that word.” We come to know Christ so that he can shape the way that we live concretely and as a whole. Pope Benedict XVI said the same about Catholic education more broadly, claiming that it should “seek to foster that unity between faith, culture and life which is the fundamental goal of Christian education.” An important reason why catechists have to work for this goal is that education is the way in which we pass on an identity and way of life. Education forms culture, understood broadly as our way of life. Our children will either use their faith to navigate the challenges of the world or will subordinate their faith to a secular worldview. Catechists impart not just the content of the faith but seek to form a life that embodies that faith. If our children conform to the secular culture more than to the faith, this entails a breakdown of our catechetical and educational efforts. Christopher Dawson, more than any other Catholic thinker, has recognized the centrality of religion in culture and education’s role in forming culture. Dawson (1889-1970) was an English-Welsh convert to Catholicism and an historian who produced a vast synthesis of history, the human sciences, and theology stretching from prehistoric times to the crisis of the mid-twentieth century. The thread that united all of his works was the thesis that religion is the heart of culture. Tracing the role of religion throughout history, he noted that modern culture has a void in place of this heart, which it attempts to fill with other secular ideologies. Without a religious renewal, Dawson thought the material advances of technology would prove self-destructive for our culture, a prediction which partially came true in the World Wars.

Recently, a highly gifted colleague of mine told me of a visit she had made to officials of a nearby diocesan school system. This lady is an outstanding educational practitioner with very high quality skills in special and gifted educational strategies. The visit had gone very well, and the school authorities were very interested in what she was offering on behalf of the university. Yet there was one part of the visit that perplexed her. She had been asked this question: What is the difference between what you are offering as a Catholic university and what is available through the nearby public university? The lady is a very committed and faithful Catholic, but she felt a little ill at ease and unable to articulate the difference. So she asked me about it. This was not an attempt on her part to have a glib answer to offer. She was genuinely interested in what changes might be made to the actual work that she does. Actually, I was delighted to be asked. It is something that has occupied me for over thirty years and lay at the core of my own doctoral thesis. In this article, I intend to offer an overarching vision of the Catholic educational project.

Seeing with Both Eyes

The great Australian theologian, Frank Sheed, once wrote a book with the puzzling title Theology and Sanity. What does theology have to do with sanity? Everything! The classic definition of truth from St. Thomas Aquinas is: “Veritas est adaequatio rei et intellectus.”[i] To put that in layman’s terms, St. Thomas claims that we have the truth when what we have in our minds conforms to what really exists. In Sheed’s view, to see things as they really are is to be “sane” and by contrast, when a person genuinely believes in a world view that is not true, that person is “insane.” For this reason, Catholic teachers must teach differently from their public school counterparts, presenting reality as it is by incorporating both natural and supernatural perspectives. Pope John Paul II famously insisted that the human person ascends to God on two wings “faith and reason.” There are some educational systems that view reality from the perspective of faith alone: fideism; others insist on excluding whatever cannot be measured and observed: rationalism. Neither of these perspectives can properly express a Catholic vision of education. Chesterton put it rather more colorfully by reminding us that human sight is stereoscopic: to view anything with only one eye is to see it wrongly.

The Christian is not a prophet of misfortune. …The essence of the Christian proclamation is the opposite, the opposite of misfortune: it is Jesus who died for love and whom God raised on Easter morning. And this is the nucleus of Christian faith. If the Gospels had ended at Jesus’ burial, the story of this prophet would have been added to the many biographies of heroic figures who expended their lives for an ideal. The Gospel would then be an edifying book, and also a comforting one, but it would not be a proclamation of hope.

But the Gospels do not end on Good Friday. They go beyond it; and indeed, it is this additional fragment which transforms our lives. Jesus’ disciples felt dejected on the Saturday after the Crucifixion. The stone that was rolled against the door to the sepulchre had also sealed the three thrilling years they had lived with the Teacher of Nazareth.