Franciscan at Home

Sr. Mary Michael Fox shares the richness of St. Thomas Aquinas’ profound hymns on the Eucharist which are excellent catechetical tools.

The Eucharistic hymns of Saint Thomas Aquinas are an eloquent synthesis of the same profound and insightful theology found in his Summa Theolgiae—a work that is, I daresay, indispensible for catechists and one that the Church considers preeminent theology.[ii] Yet, the Summa is indeed somewhat daunting due to its structure and sheer magnitude. Fortunately, Saint Thomas offers more than one way of studying, contemplating and teaching the profound doctrine of the Eucharist. His Eucharistic hymns, Lauda Sion, Verbum Supernum, Pange Lingua, and Panis Angelicus, are a perfect convergence of theology and poetry. Their truth is beautiful and their beauty is true; and for this reason, they are perfectly catechetical.

In this article Fr. Michael A. Caridi givse us a reflection on the primordial bond and intrinsic link between the Eucharist and the Priesthood.

Shortly after being named Archbishop of Saigon in 1975, Francois-Xavier Nguyen van Thuan was arrested by the Communist authorities and imprisoned for the next thirteen years. In his account, Five Loaves and Two Fish, Cardinal Thuan tells of offering clandestine Masses while in prison, using meager amounts of bread and wine that had been smuggled in. After Mass, he would fashion a tiny container from the paper of cigarette boxes in which to reserve the Blessed Sacrament for later adoration. He would secretly carry the makeshift tabernacle with the consecrated Host within the breast pocket of his shirt, close to his heart.

While, over the course of those thirteen years in prison, the Communists time and again relentlessly tried to break the Cardinal and strip him of his emotional, spiritual and moral dignity, they couldn’t. Why? Because his was a priestly dignity, a dignity not based upon comfort, position, or honor, but on the fact that Jesus Christ is always close to the priest’s heart – an intense union stemming primarily from his ability to make Jesus present in the celebration of the Most Holy Eucharist, a bond that offers the priest the necessary strength to endure all the demands his vocation implies.

Simply put, Cardinal Thuan survived his years of imprisonment because he could find a way to offer Mass, thus keeping Jesus near to his heart.

Fr. Stravinskas argues that young people today are looking for a form of worship that is ennobling and uplifting, based on traditional forms of liturgy.

We hear a great deal today about ‘culture’: the youth culture, the culture of life, theculture of death, the anti-culture. And so, I would like to begin my reflections by demonstrating the connection between culture and worship. As a die-hard Latin teacher, I want to establish the etymological linkage. The word cultura (culture) comes from the word cultus (cult, as in ‘worship’). To enter into a language is to enter into the mindset of a people.

Thus, one can say that for the ancient Romans, ‘culture’ was rooted in ‘cult’ or worship. We can smirk at the Greeks and Romans of old with their thousand little gods and goddesses inhabiting the Pantheon but, for all that, they still lived within a transcendental horizon. In other words, the individual human being was answerable to a higher and ultimate authority. And within that horizon, those peoples forged impressive cultures. Similarly, within the Christian scheme of things, we find that what historians have dubbed ‘TheAge of Faith’– the high middle ages – produced a nearly unimaginable font of literature, art, music and architecture – unrivaled to this very moment.

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.

The catechist is called to know and echo on the richness of God’s saving act in Christ which is readily accessible through meditating on the Mysteries of the Rosary.

The Rosary is a valuable methodological tool for catechists because it can provide precious insights into how the various mysteries apply to the catechetical vocation. Catechists who seek to receive such lessons from the Rosary will understand more deeply how the events of Christ’s life relate to teaching Catholic doctrine and spirituality. Finally, those who use this tool will gain the help of Mary, who is the preeminent example of fruitful catechetical methods.

To begin, a simple exercise is necessary. Catechists should listen to or read the Scripture passage that corresponds to a mystery of Christ’s life. Then, the appropriate prayers should be recited along with meditations on how that mystery relates to handing on the Deposit on Faith. This exercise will confirm catechists in their vocations, and it will assist in bringing learners toward holiness. The following is an example that is the fruit of this author’s meditations on the Joyful Mysteries over several months.

This month of October marks the 30th Anniversary of Pope John Paul’s great letter to the Church on catechesis, Catechesi Tradendae. It was this letter that describes Mary as ‘the mother and model of catechists’ Here Gary Sullivan reflects on Mary’s life as a catechetical journey.

She never planned a lesson or used a grade book. Chalkboards had yet to be invented, not to mention whiteboards. She never clicked a power point or used an overhead; but Our Lady revolutionized catechetical instruction. By employing the most essential catechetical tools Mary was way ahead of her time. She is the primordial catechist. In her example we find the marrow of catechesis. What she models to the modern catechist is the example of the correct posture which yields the most fruit. No one can argue with the results we find in her prize student.

We ponder a Marian curriculum of prayer provided for us in Luke’s Gospel and expounded in the Catechism.

The Catechism’s treatment of prayer in its fourth pillar is, in a number of ways, a very Marian catechesis. And that is perfectly natural, given the Catechism’s penchant for laying great stress upon the economy of salvation, which Christoph Cardinal Schönborn, the Catechism’s general editor, has called its leitmotif. [i] Mary is the great ponderer of the economy of salvation, as Luke makes clear in his Gospel. Twice in chapter 2, once after the shepherds adore the new-born Christ and again after Mary and Joseph find him in the Temple, Luke tells us that Mary ‘kept’ these events in her heart. After the first instance, at verse 19, he adds the words, ‘pondering them in her heart.’

The words themselves are worth pondering for a moment. At verse 19 the word translated ‘kept’ is in the Greek syntereo, which means ‘to keep closely together,’ ‘to conserve or to remember.’ At verse 51 the same translation, ‘kept’ is used for the related word diatereo, which means ‘to watch’ or ‘to observe strictly.’ The word ‘ponder’ is the Greek symballo, meaning ‘to throw together.’ That might not seem to mean much, until one notes that it has the same root as the word symbolon, which is the ancient label given to our Creed, or what we sometimes call in English ‘the symbol of the faith.’

Why would Luke be inspired by the Holy Spirit to tell us that Mary ‘watched’ and ‘remembered’ these events surrounding the birth and childhood of Our Lord, ‘pondering them’ [throwing them together] ‘in her heart?’ At paragraph 2599 the Catechism gives us a hint of an answer. There we are told that ‘The Son of God who became Son of the Virgin learned to pray in his human heart. He learns to pray from his mother, who kept all the great things the Almighty had done and treasured them in her heart.’ She was a Jewish mother and so she prayed, as did all of her people, out of the fund of her memories of God’s great works on behalf of His people. If Jesus Himself learns to pray from Mary, shouldn’t we, too? And so, we could conclude, that what Luke supplies for us, in the two brief verses just cited, are the rudiments of a Marian curriculum of prayer. And the Catechism echoes that in several ways in its pillar on prayer. But to fully appreciate the Marian quality of its catechesis, we first have to get a little fuller background.

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.

In the last issue of The Sower Fr. Cash wrote about the essential personal encounter with Jesus Christ necessary for catechists to be authentic witnesses to the transforming grace that Jesus wants to share with all the baptized. In this article he explains the obstacles that can hinder growth in that transforming grace.

Faith is not only a way of knowing, but is a gift of the Holy Spirit that transforms us as human beings. We come into a deep personal experience of the knowledge of Jesus Christ. And that faith transforms our lives. I know him, and because he has forgiven my sins, my life is transformed, just as any Christian’s life is transformed through the all-surpassing knowledge of Christ. So why doesn’t every Christian have this experience?

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.