Nemo Dat, Quo Non Habet

Last weekend, several parish catechists and a few tag-alongs joined in a retreat at Conception Abbey in Missouri celebrating the completion of our 10th year of Catechesis of the Good Shepherd at All Saints.

The theme of the retreat which was facilitated by the very talented Katie Patrizio was "Mercy: The Message of the Catechist." Katie closed the retreat with reflections on this question:

"Which is the most important thing: to love or to be loved?"

She ventured a guess that many of us would consider it a much more noble thing to love than to be loved. I remembered, for example, the famous Franciscan prayer and song where I pray to never seek "to be loved" so much "as to love with all my soul..."

Yet her reflection grew much, much deeper. When it comes to our fellow travellers, our children, our spouse, our friends, our enemies--this sentiment of loving first holds. We must seek not their love, but to love. Or as Blessed Teresa of Calcutta said, "Where you do not find love, put in love, and you will draw out love!"

But if your own tank is empty, where are you going to get the gas to fill up someone else?

Katie suggested that when frustration comes our way and we find ourselves unable to love, it is because we are laying hold to love in the wrong order. We think that we must love first in order to be lovable. We think we must be well in order to go to the physician (see Mark 2:17).

She proposed that it is far more important for we humans to know deeply we are loved than to love. In fact, when Jesus gives the commandment to love, he does so only in reference to his own love for us: "Love one another as I have loved you." (John 13:34) It is impossible for us to do all God asks of us, if we don't live and experience and trust in that merciful love each day.

It is probably the greatest trick that the devil ever pulled off to make the core proclamation of the Gospel - that God loves you - sound like a platitude. 

So many complaints about catechesis over the past 50 years center around the fact that we traded in the "real" catechesis for the fluffy "you are special" and "God loves you" catechesis, and yet, this is the most fundamental and important truth.

Pope Francis entreats us: "On the lips of the catechist the first proclamation must ring out over and over: ‘Jesus Christ loves you; he gave his life to save you; and now he is living at your side every day to enlighten, strengthen and free you.’" (#164 Joy of the Gospel).

If we are looking for reasons of the failure of catechesis, I would say that the finger should not be pointed so much at the lack of moral formation (how well we love others), but of a failure in initial evangelization (how deeply we understand that we are loved). No moral formation (parenesis) will ever be successful without a firm grounding in this first and always primary proclamation (kerygma) which gives us joy!

This proclamation of mercy should be not only on the lips of priests and catechists, but of each and every one of us. Yet before these words can be truly sounded, they must echo deep in our own hearts. We must know deeply that we ourselves are loved in a radical, unconditional way. As my dear friend Tom always says, "Nemo dat, quo non habet."

In plain English, "You can't give it, if you don't got it!"

John 6:66

After many many weeks of hearing in the Gospel of John about Jesus being the "bread of life" we get to the crux of it: the decision point. Jesus is saying something that he knows is hard to understand, hard to believe: that "unless you eat my flesh and drink my blood you shall not have life within you."

He just fed 5000 men and untold numbers of women and children with 5 loaves and 2 fish. Then, right after that, he walked on water. Over the course of about 24 hours, he's demonstrated powerfully that he can do amazing things that are hard to understand and hard to believe. Yet when he said, "my flesh is true food" and "my blood is true drink," it proved too much for many of his followers.

Probably the roughest (and most ominously numbered) verse in all scripture follows: John 6:66.

"As a result of this, many [of] his disciples returned to their former way of life and no longer accompanied him."

But there are some who stayed.

They didn't stay because it was easy to understand, or because it was easy to belive. Peter intones my favorite words (that are not spoken by Jesus) in all of the Gospels:

"Master, to whom shall we go? You have the words of everlasting life." John 6:68

It has not always been true that I believed and followed the teachings of the Church because they were easy to understand or believe. Sometimes I just had to follow because there was simply no better alternative. I echoed Peter in my heart as I prayed to God, "Lord, to my human wisdom this doesn't make sense, but without you, nothing makes sense, so I choose to follow you anyway."

As time has gone on, clarity and a deepening of my understanding of the gift of the Eucharist and many of the more difficult to understand teachings of the Church has found its way into my heart. Peter's faith-filled response has been my cry and my safeguard when the doubts and darkness threaten to overcome my belief or to tempt me to follow my own conceptions of what Jesus should have said or meant.

I pray for all who struggle with this belief in the True Presence of Christ in the Eucharist. It may not be an easy teaching to understand, but it is HIS teaching, and he continues each day to prove himself trustworthy. Remain with him, even as you struggle. When you are tempted to return to your former way of life, let Peter's cry be your protection.

"Master, to whom shall we go? You have the words of everlasting life." John 6:68

Sandcastles in December

Is it a surprise to anyone that parenting is hard? Growing up, I thought it looked relatively easy from the kid side, and if my parents would have asked me, I could have given them some simple pointers on all the ways that they could have done it better. ("Just you wait," Mom would tell me).

I would say that the biggest parenting surprise did not come in how hard it was to BE a parent, but how hard it was for ME to be a parent.

I really thought I would nail this thing.

I mean, I wanted to be a mom. I got married thinking I would have a gaggle of little ones. It was all I wanted. When reality hit hard after about 5 years, I remember being so dazed that I couldn't figure out what was going on. Was the problem that my darling daughters were not the sweet little baby dolls that I expected, or was it something deeper in me that just wasn't adjusting to this "mother thing?" I felt trapped.

I called a veteran mom friend to beg for some perspective. I didn't want to hear another country music song about how I'm going to want this time back, I wanted to know why I didn't want this dream anymore. What was wrong with me that I couldn't find joy in my mothering?

After listening patiently for a while, she diagnosed my problem with three words. She said that it sounded like I was trying to build sandcastles in December.

She'd heard the analogy somehwere describing how the human heart gets so restless with reality, that it spends its best energy longing for what it doesn't and really can't have right now. In December, you are miserably cold trying to build sandcastles on the beach, and in July, you are frustrated with longing for sledding and snowmen.

It was like that for me and my mothering. Rather than experiencing the joys that season in my life had to offer, I was jealously coveting the pleasures and joys of a mom with older children or even grown children.

Carefully avoiding any reference to country music,

my wise friend counselled me that God gives us the present moment as a beautiful gift and that I will only receive that gift when I embrace it with open arms.

No matter what our current station in life, working hard or retired, single, widowed, married with grown children or longing for children, or being reminded by every grocery store checker that "you sure have your hands full," don't miss the joys of the present because you want another season's gifts. God has abundant JOY for us and for our families today that is just for us in our own season of life.

Why? vs. What Now?

Sometimes when I am talking to my children, bits of wisdom come out of my mouth and I have no idea where they came from. I usually give the credit to my mom, or any one of my brilliant and holy friends, or, of course, Catholic radio. Sometimes I'll even remember reading it somewhere in a book written by a saint or other holy person. So you have been informed. Pretty much nothing I ever say in this column is original, it is all pilfered from much holier and more intelligent folk. All the better for you.

Well, in the last few months, we were dealing with a difficult situation in our family. There were some serious moments where the "whys" were sapping up so much strength and energy that it was difficult to focus on anything else. In talking to one of my girls who was really struggling to put words to the "whys."

I stopped her. "God is not in the 'why'," I told her, "He's in the 'What Now?'"

I realized, after wondering what on earth made me say that, that this insight was a powerful synthesis of many lessons I've been learning over the past years.

It is seldom, if ever, peaceful to look back on the past and lament over why we fell, why we or others chose so poorly, or why a tragedy may have happened. The tough subject of why there is evil in the world and why I (who should know better) participate in it sometimes, is one that philosphers and theologians will wrestle with until the end of time. Even with some of the big questions answered, "Original Sin" doesn't seem that satisfying of an answer when you make a serious mistake, when someone you love hurts you, or when someone you trusted betrays you...

The answer is often simply that sometimes we don't get to know why. It is humbling. It is limiting. Sorry, child, you and I don't get to be omnipotent.

But always, always, we can pray for light to know what to do next. We don't have to waste our time and prolong our grief or brooding by dwelling too long on why things aren't different. God is here now, in this particular situation. He may not give us light to see our path for the next ten years, but if we are honest, we have never been left without light enough to know what to do for the next ten minutes.

After the tragedy on 9/11, I heard a reporter interviewing a Catholic priest about why God allows evil. His answer was so simple and confident: "So that God can bring a greater good out of it." To what "greater good" is God calling and leading us? We can't know that if we are only looking backward.

So, taking advantage of the gift of Reconciliation if we need it, we must walk in trust, peace of heart, and faith whatever path you can see ahead. God will show us the "what now" once we leave the "whys" behind us.