More FID

I'm participating in a summer-long discussion of one of my favorite books, Forming Intentional Disciples. What follows are my selective comments based on questions relevant to Chapter 1.

Have you always been Catholic? How did the instruction and mentoring you received help you – or prevent you – from having a personal relationship with God?

I was born in 1957, and during my first eight years I steeped in the Catholic universe of South Louisiana.

Before I was old enough to go to confession I would accompany my father when he went to confession. This was before I was in first grade, and had not yet received any formal catechesis. I was, however, already very well catechized my extended family, such that I understood that in confession, Jesus forgave a person's sins. In church I was optimistically expected to behave while Daddy was in the confessional. But I was curious why no-one entered or exited from the middle part of the confessional, just the ends. So on one occasion I stuck my hand under the middle curtain to find out just what was in there. Maybe you can imagine the shock of Jesus grabbing my hand! If that was not shocking enough, I actually saw Jesus' hand as it gently and firmly put my little mitt back outside the booth. I never said a word about this to another soul until I was an adult.

In a strictly physical sense, that was not Jesus in the confessional; but close enough for a kid who was raised with a sacramental worldview. The world has always seemed to be soaking wet with God. I never didn't believe what the Church taught. There were many years when I didn't want to hear it, but I always accepted that the Church was right. Priests, Nuns, Saints, Angels, Satan, Mass, Purgatory, Trinity, Keys, Relics, Miracles, Bible stories; all were part of the visible and invisible reality that I swam in.

Truly, I can't remember a time that Jesus wasn't Right There. I used to think I could grab Him right out of the nothing that lay within my reach; and who knows, maybe I did. I owe that natural, vivid faith to my parents, my extended family, the Marianite sisters, and the Louisiana culture. Unlike later ethnic Catholic immigrant enclaves in America, Louisiana (1702) predated the United States, and was not part of the US until 1803. So there was no impetus to 'become American' by diluting our Catholic distinctives.

Then my family moved to Greenville, South Carolina when I was 8. Culturally it was a bigger leap than spending a graduate-school semester in Italy. Catholics were worse than mere outsiders: to some, we weren't even Christian. But gentle (and not so gentle) prodding by concerned Evangelical and Fundamentalist friends and neighbors gives Catholics an incentive to know the Biblical reasons (versus catechetical ones) for being Catholic; and accustoms us to talking about Jesus and religion in a very direct, even blunt, way. It has been a real blessing to live here. On the other hand, the Church is not where it needs to be regarding Scripture and evangelism; and poorly-catechized Catholics remain easy marks for the Biblically literate.

In your parish, how’s your retention rate? What percentage of 8th graders in your parish are still practicing the faith at age 18?At age 24? Do young adults in your parish stay in touch with their childhood faith community, or do they drift away to an unknown fate?

Oh man, I dunno. Just considering the kids I've catechized over the last 9 years, many families moved away; the kids that turn 18 here often leave to go to college; and of those, many won't return to Greenville; and of those who ultimately stay, many will attend another parish, as my eldest son does. At Mass I do see a few young adults I taught years ago; then again, we have 5 Masses each weekend. But our parish is healthy. We have a school with full enrollments, run by the Dominican Sisters of St. Cecilia. Youthgroup content is substantial and orthodox. We receive a constant stream of Fundiegelical converts. And our pastor steadily nudges the parish toward an explicitly Scriptural-evangelistic worldview.

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Other stuff I've written about FID:

New Evangelization 1999

Page 94

Fine Art 10: St. Apollinare in Classe

My parish included this mosaic in today's Corpus Christi missalette:

It's located in St. Apollinare in Classe, Italy. Classe is near Ravenna, which has some spectacular mosaics, including these two which I already use in Catechism class to discuss Abel, Abraham and Melchizedek as they show up in Genesis:

Two scenes from Abraham's life

 

Abel and Melichizedek

They're both in San Vitale, which was consecrated in A.D. 546. St. Apollinare was consecrated in A.D. 549, so it's no surprise that the art is similar.

Anyway, per this older post I use these mosaics in September to lay the groundwork for discussing this line from the Mass in April:

"Be pleased to look upon these offerings with a serene and kindly countenance, and to accept them, as once you were pleased to accept the gifts of your servant Abel the just, the sacrifice of Abraham, our father in faith, and the offering of your high priest Melchizedek, a holy sacrifice, a spotless victim."

But next year I'll use the St. Apollinare mosaic to discuss the Mass instead of using the two San Vitale mosaics twice in the same year. I'll point out that the mosaic of all 3 men and their offerings together around a common altar directly illustrates that line in the Mass. It shows that early on the liturgy was explicitly connecting their sacrifices to the sacrifice re-presented at Mass. Like a lot of things in Catechism class, I can always tell this to the kids. But when they can see it for themselves they learn better.

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By the way I checked online for the oldest extant text of a Mass, and found the Gelasian Sacramentary from about A.D. 750. It says:

"...et accepta habere, sicuti accepta habere dignatus es munera pueri tui iusti Abel, et sacrificium patriarchae nostri Abrahae, et quod tibi obtulit summus sacerdos tuus Melchisedech, sanctum sacrificium, immaculatam hostiam."

In English:

"...and accept, just as you deigned to accept the offering of your just servant Abel, and the sacrifice of our patriarch Abraham, and that which your highest priest Melchisedech offered you, a holy sacrifice, a unstained offering." (thanks to Steve Perkins)

Book Review 3: Consuming the Word

This post links to RAnn's Sunday Snippets

 

Go here to check out my review of Scott Hahn's new book, Consuming the Word.

Or you can just read it here:

Americans of course remember that we won our War of Independence at Yorktown in 1781, ending a long and formal relationship with the British Crown. But the Constitution didn't go into effect until 1789; how did the newly-United States manage while a new model was being worked out and authoritatively written down? And how about after World War 1: empires swept away, assorted tribes each wanting an independent state of its own. Who will succeed? Who will fail? Who says?

I've always been fascinated by such periods of coalescing that lie between an old way of thinking, or governing, or living; and a new way. For Christians, the most compelling example of those times of flux would be that of the Early Church: the centuries between Pentecost, and the closing of the Canon of the New Testament. I've had some vague sense that the oral teaching authority of the Apostles and their appointed successors spanned those many years, and that they weren't bumping into each other and pratfalling like Keystone Kops. But in particular, what did the typically illiterate Christian believe? How did they learn the faith? Were there only "Old Testament" readings on Sunday? What Scriptures would Bereans ‘diligently search’ in 120 A.D.? I had no idea.

 Well, I had no idea until I read Scott Hahn's recent book, Consuming the Word: The New Testament and The Eucharist in the Early Church.  It’s not so much a book on apologetics as it is a story; you know, more like a Gospel than an Epistle. Not quite a reflection; but like reflections, it’s a gentle read that communicates a certain amount of academic information without seeming academic. The reader will meet some Church Fathers; learn some conceptual  stuff about a few (really, just a few) Greek and Latin words; read bits of letters; watch the Church collate a new batch of Scriptures, that is, writings; and attend the Eucharistic celebration on the New Sabbath (Sunday) with early Christians.  As it turns out, going to Mass had a whole lot to do with how and why the Church assembled and authorized a written “New Testament;” and decided there should be a New Testament at all. Hahn shows that Catholic distinctives such as the literal understanding of John 6 and apostolic authority were critical to sustaining and defining the Church through that time of flux; and that those same traits support worldwide Christianity (not just Catholicism) until today.

Because the story unwinds like a mystery, I don’t want to give away any of the plot.  At 150 pages the book isn’t long.  I wouldn’t call it an easy read, but you don’t have to be a closet apologist or polyglot to enjoy it.

Check out Chapter 1 here:

http://www.scribd.com/doc/140409225/Consuming-the-Word-by-Scott-Hahn-Chapter-1#.UZZNUkp0nYo

In my opinion the rest of the book is better than Chapter 1. The publisher doesn’t want to give the plot away, either.

I Never Noticed This Either

This post links to RAnn's Sunday Snippets

 The beggar cried out, "Lord, I have not tasted food in three days."

 And Jesus saith to him, "Don't worry- it still tastes the same."

This is a follow-up to an earlier post; same subject, different angle.

It just occurred to me today: when Jesus worked miracles, did he ever partake of the benefits? I culled a list of a few dozen- didn't find a single case where he did. Which makes sense: why would God do something miraculous for Himself? In particular, consider the food miracles:

1. Water into Wine: He said to them, "Now draw some out, and take it to the steward of the feast." So they took it. When the steward of the feast tasted the water now become wine, and did not know where it came from..."

2. Miraculous Catch of Fish: "Master, we toiled all night and took nothing! But at your word I will let down the nets." And when they had done this, they enclosed a great shoal of fish; and as their nets were breaking, they beckoned to their partners in the other boat to come and help them."

3. Jesus Feeds Multitudes: "Jesus then took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, he distributed them to those who were seated; so also the fish, as much as they wanted. 12 And when they had eaten their fill, he told his disciples, "Gather up the fragments left over, that nothing may be lost." So they gathered them up and filled twelve baskets with fragments from the five barley loaves, left by those who had eaten."

4. Another Miraculous Catch of Fish: Just as day was breaking, Jesus stood on the beach; yet the disciples did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to them, "Children, have you any fish?" They answered him, "No." He said to them, "Cast the net on the right side of the boat, and you will find some." So they cast it, and now they were not able to haul it in, for the quantity of fish...When they got out on land, they saw a charcoal fire there, with fish [already] lying on it, and bread. 10 Jesus said to them, "Bring some of the fish that you have just caught." 11 So Simon Peter went aboard and hauled the net ashore, full of large fish, a hundred and fifty-three of them; and although there were so many, the net was not torn. 12 Jesus said to them, "Come and have breakfast." Now none of the disciples dared ask him, "Who are you?" They knew it was the Lord. 13 Jesus came and took the bread and gave it to them, and so with the fish."  

On the other hand, I don't think Jesus ever met a meal He didn't like:

"...the Pharisees saw it, they said unto his disciples, Why eateth your Master with publicans and sinners?"

 "The Son of man came eating and drinking, and they say, "Behold a man gluttonous, and a winebibber, a friend of publicans and sinners..."

 "And one of the Pharisees desired him that he would eat with him. And he went into the Pharisee's house, and sat down to meat."

"See my hands and my feet, that it is I myself; handle me, and see; for a spirit has not flesh and bones as you see that I have."...And while they still disbelieved for joy, and wondered, he said to them, "Have you anything here to eat?" They gave him a piece of broiled fish, and he took it and ate before them. Then he said to them, "What else ya got?" Just kidding.

 And: "Where is the guestchamber, where I shall eat the passover with my disciples?"

Yet per the prior post, Jesus eats the passover meal with the apostles only until He says, "This is my Body...this is my Blood... Take, eat...Drink of it, all of you." Looking at Jesus' miracles in general, and food miracles in particular, it makes sense that this was also a food miracle, although one not like the rest. That is, by not partaking of the food, Jesus shows that his words had effected a miracle; but one that requires we see it through faith, not through sight.

Pithy Book Review

Not by this guy, although he obviously is a fan.

See Patrick Vandapool's review of my book here. And check out the rest of his entertaining and informative blog while you're there; it ain't the usual. за Родину!

Tough Guys Don't Pitch Tents

not too shabby

About 30 years ago I read the Norman Mailer novel, Tough Guys Don't Dance. It's about a son, Tim Madden, who simply will never be as tough a guy as his father Dougy. Tim must be about 40, but still feels he's a wimpy disappointment to Dougy, now an old man. In one passage (IIRC), Tim recollects a scene from his childhood: Dougy is silently parked in front of the TV, Tim's mom stands in the doorway to the kitchen. Not complaining, but just making the observation, she says to Dougy, "You never tell me that you love me." Dougy doesn't miss a beat or take his eyes off the TV: "I'm here, ain't I?"

As the story develops we learn that Dougy indeed loves both his wife and his son; but he is in no way affectionate. Too tough I guess.

In catechism class, we learn lots about God's love, which I find examples of all over the Bible; but less about God's affection, which is harder to suss out and communicate to the kids. It's important for all Christians, but especially kids, to understand God's affection for his children. Like Tim Madden, we think of affection as something physical, and among the Trinity only Jesus has a body. But even having one, Scripture doesn't show Jesus using it to hug, kiss, tousle hair, or hold babies. The closest we get in the Bible may be Jesus laying his hands on the little kids; but that's a formal, ritual gesture.

So anyway, in class I elaborate on verses that to me are implicitly affectionate so the kids can get the emotional message. Here are a quick few:

"Zion said, "The LORD has forsaken me, my Lord has forgotten me." Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you. Behold, I have graven you on the palms of my hands..."  (Isaiah 49)

 "Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? And not one of them is forgotten before God.  Why, even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not; you are of more value than many sparrows." (Luke 12)

"God himself will be with them; he will wipe away every tear from their eyes" (Rev. 21)

I don't plan ahead for affectionate verses, but I talk them up when they come around during the year. And I keep an eye out for new ones.

Any of you know Mary Renault? She wrote historical fiction about ancient Greece some decades ago, including The King Must Die and The Persian Boy; and also The Mask of Apollo, about Greek theater. In that last book she spelled the English word scene the Greek way, skene:

 "That evening we were summoned back to meet the chorus-master, the flute-player and the skene-painter...When we heard who were doing the masks and costumes, painting the skene and training the chorus, and for how much, even the Persian-backed play at Delphi looked like a fit-up...The skeneroom was just a flat-topped shed, with a crazyladder to the god-walk on its roof."

In Greek, skēnē/σκηνη is not a uniquely theatrical term. It means tent; what the Romans and the King James Bible would also call a tabernacle, or a booth, a plain little shelter. I imagine that itinerant Greek theater troupes would set up a skene, a tent to house their stuff; have one side painted, and would act in front of that painted side.

Speaking of tents, y'all already know that the wandering Israelites lived in them; and that God dwelled among his people in a tent, too. Considering that a tent's primary function is to provide shade, to overshadow, it's no surprise that the Greek word skene is a cognate of skia/σκιά/shadow. I like to think of skene in its literal sense of shader, or shadower.   

Next Wednesday is the last class of the year, and the last class on the Mass. We'll cover how the Mass fuses with the heavenly wedding feast of the Lamb. We'll look again at Revelation 21, especially, "And I heard a great voice out of heaven saying, Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them, and they shall be his people, and God himself shall be with them, and be their God." This verse will get special attention because it shows not only God's love, but as it turns out, his affection. 

The last few chapters of Revelations tie up every loose end in the Bible: bodies are reunited with souls; the saints are reunited with God; there's a New Jerusalem in which to live. Of course the New Jerusalem is no mean burg: "The wall was built of jasper, while the city was pure gold, clear as glass. The foundations of the wall of the city were adorned with every jewel; the first was jasper, the second sapphire, the third agate, the fourth emerald, the fifth onyx, the sixth carnelian, the seventh chrysolite, the eighth beryl, the ninth topaz, the tenth chrysoprase, the eleventh jacinth, the twelfth amethyst. And the twelve gates were twelve pearls, each of the gates made of a single pearl, and the street of the city was pure gold, transparent as glass."

Yet amid this splendid city God doesn't live in temple, or even a nice house; but a tabernacle, a little house. But can't a little house be spectacular? Not this one. Look at this bit again, and notice the verb: "the tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them." Uh-huh. So?

So, the English word dwell is used in the New Testament to translate an assortment of charming Greek verbs. Most of them are based on οἶκος/ oikos/ house, as in economics and ecology:

οικέω/ oikeo/ to house oneself, to dwell.

ἐνοικέω/ en-oikeo/ to in-dwell;

κατοικέω/ kat(a)-oikeo/ to thoroughly dwell (you know: kata as in Catholic and catalog); and

συνοικέω/ syn-oikeō/ that's right, to dwell together (you knew that).

But none of those verbs tell us that God will dwell with his people in the New Jerusalem. This verb does:  σκηνόω/ skēnoō. Not to house oneself; not to dwell per se; but to shade oneself: that is, to set up a skene, to pitch one's tent. Amid the wonder of the City of Gold, God is happy to pitch his tent among his people as he once did in the desert.

Dwelling with us shows God's love; pitching his tent among us shows his affection.

photo from ArmenianHouse.org 

Pitchers 16: Revelations 4 & 5

This post links to RAnn's Sunday Snippets

Partial whiteboard from April 17, the second of three classes on the Mass:

Bits I read (not all at once!) while I draw and we discuss the continuity between the worship in Heaven and on Earth:

"At once I was in the Spirit, and lo, a throne stood in heaven, with one seated on the throne! 3 And he who sat there appeared like jasper and carnelian, and round the throne was a rainbow that looked like an emerald. Round the throne were twenty-four thrones, and seated on the thrones were twenty-four elders, clad in white garments, with golden crowns upon their heads. From the throne issue flashes of lightning, and voices and peals of thunder, and before the throne burn seven torches of fire, which are the seven spirits of God;  and before the throne there is as it were a sea of glass, like crystal. And round the throne, on each side of the throne, are four living creatures, full of eyes in front and behind:  the first living creature like a lion, the second living creature like an ox, the third living creature with the face of a man, and the fourth living creature like a flying eagle.  And the four living creatures, each of them with six wings, are full of eyes all round and within, and day and night they never cease to sing, "Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come!" I don't have time to draw everything; the goal is to draw enough.

 "And between the throne and the four living creatures and among the elders, I saw a Lamb standing, as though it had been slain...the four living creatures and the twenty-four elders fell down before the Lamb, each holding a harp, and with golden bowls full of incense, which are the prayers of the saints..." 

This was about 1/3 of the whole board, so figure 20 minutes of classtime on this developing image while talking about Mass, the Heavenly Worship, incense, harps, singing, elders-presbyters-priests, the Paschal Lamb, the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, the Holy Holy Holy, the 4 Evangelists and their attributes (Angel, Lion, Bull and Eagle); reading relevant bits of Eucharistic Prayer #1 from the Missalette; and of course, the Holy Tornado.  I draw something like this every year, but the content and execution varies with my interaction with the kids. I'm posting this to emphasize how drawing can organize information in a way that's easy to refer to as the discussion proceeds, and much more effectively than just writing words on the board. When it's done, it's an ensemble of concepts; not merely a listing of them.