It's a Work of Mercy, Dad.

We started a tradition about 10 years ago that our children will simply not let us break. On Beggar's Night we dress up the kids and sometimes even the adults in our family and head to a nearby nursing home for a climate-controlled evening of thrills and chills. Aside from the fact that there are copious amounts of candy, the night is a great chance for our kids to bring some joy to the residents, and to have a ton of repetition when they practice saying "Thank You" while looking in someone's eyes.

About 6 years ago, we decided to step up our relationship with the Care Center and make it a weekly thing to go and let the girls play their instruments or sing for the "Memory Lane" hour. This served a few purposes: 1) The girls had more motivation to practice their instruments because they were going to be playing in public. 2) Because aside from "going to church", I knew that we needed something in our lives that was a regular, on-the-calendar, thing, that would teach my children what it means to live as a Christian: to live for others.

Sometimes the concerts were absolutely wonderful. Sometimes, however, they were an exercise in restraint and pain. It's tough raising kids in front of people and it wasn't always easy to get the girls to offer their talents freely.

As the girls got older and our lives got busier, we have gone down to 1 hour visit per month. The nurses and aides line up the wheelchairs, and we come in with our guitar or ukelele, a few violins, and we play their piano. The girls pretty much put together the whole concert now, and I just watch (and chase David who is busy winning over the ladies). We try hard to learn the names of the ones who come, and our hearts have been saddened when we find that one has died since we were there last.

When the month of October rolled around this year, the girls were all busy trying to figure out what they would do for Halloween at the nursing home. My husband was giving my girls some guff about dressing up this year. "Aren't you a little old for that?" he wondered aloud.  "Dad," our oldest responded, matter-of-factly, "It's a work of mercy. When we dress up it makes them happy."

"Fine," replied my husband with a smirk, "Dress up. But you don't need to take any candy."

Then my 13 year old piped in, "And break their hearts?"

Visiting our friend Karen who always has some good candy for us

Matt relented and the girls dressed up as super heros (David was Clark Kent dressed as an alligator). When we walked into Beggar's Night, one of the nurses said, "Look, it's our most faithful family." I could see the girls' eyes beaming. I pray this lesson goes with them their whole lives. Whether it's with violins, guitars, or super-hero capes, anyone can visit the lonely and perform a beautiful work of mercy.

Making Silence

Last week in one of our Level III (4th-6th grade) atrium, we spent some time playing "The Silence Game." Some of the kids in the room thought that this was like the game our parents made us play when we were kids and they were being driven crazy by all of the noise. "One-Two-Three- Little Red Schoolhouse!" The point of that game was NOT to be the first person to make noise otherwise you lose.

"No, no, no," I said, "This game is totally different than that game. This game isn't to make you be quiet so that I can have some peace. This game is that we all see how quiet we can be as a group and find out what happens."

To prepare for our 5-minute attempt at "making silence," I read them an excerpt of the book, The Power of Silence, by Cardinal Sarah.

"Our world no longer hears God because it is constantly speaking, at a devastating speed and volume, in order to say nothing. Modern civilization does not know how to be quiet. It holds forth in an undending monologue... Thus there is a dictatorship of speech, a dictatorship of verbal emphasis... From morning to evening, from evening to morning, silence no longer has any place at all; the noise tries to prevent God himself from speaking... The tragedy of our world is never better summed up than in the fury of senseless noise that stubbornly hates silence. This age detests the things that silence brings us to: encounter, wonder, and kneeling before God" (paragraph 74).

I asked if they are ever silent. The ones who said yes gave the example of sleeping and reading. So I asked if they were ever awake without words or images or sound drawing their attention. Do they ever just sit in the quiet?

We prepared ourselves to give the gift of silence to each other. Even if most of us were to try it, if everyone were not on board, it wouldn't work at all. So we took a deep breath, closed our eyes, and listened to the silence.

Mother Angelica wrote in her book Answers Not Promises of the time she was placed in a lonely hospital room at the end of a hallway with no one else there. The silence and quiet was frightening, really. However, she learned more in those few days about silence and prayer than all of her activity had taught her before (and she was a cloistered nun!) She said, "I became increasingly aware that His ever-present act of creation is a silent one, whether it is forming a child in a mother's womb or a blade of grass breaking through the earth." In other words, when you are finally alone with yourself in quiet, you realize that you are not alone.

After our five minutes of mostly silence, I asked the children what they noticed. One child thought it was boring, while another said she felt like she was floating. Another said he started to remember things of the past. Almost everyone said that it was a good experience and one they'd like to do again. "Can we do it for the whole class next time?"

An adult assistant raised her hand and said, "I realized that I need to do this every day." So often we don't do those little things that help us take care of our bodies (like eat right and exercise) or our souls (like daily prayer), but when we do, it makes us feel so much better! We read in the scriptures that we ought to "Be still and know that I am God." Psalm 46:10. God promises that He will come to us in the silence. So set down your phone, turn off your radio, and give Him a chance!

It Takes Time

8. The weekly atrium gatherings should last at least two hours, of which a small part is often dedicated to the catechist’s presentation, and the majority of the time is reserved for the personal work of the child. From the Characteristics of the Catechesis of the Good Shepherd.

In a recent survey about session times, I had an anonymous question from a responder about the possibility of offering a one-hour session that would make it more convenient for families to be together for supper. I know that many faith-formation programs offer time frames like this, especially for smaller children, so I am sure it is confusing when our minimum session duration is 90 minutes and some of them are 2 hours long. This time frame can be difficult to accomplish for small children and busy, working families. This is the reasons we are seeking help from parents to find the best time in which to offer their children a 90 minute or 2 hour session. But parents rightly ask: "Why?" "Is it really necessary?" And even, "Won't they get bored?"

In the Characteristics of the Catechesis of the Good Shepherd, there are 32 points of reflection that set CGS apart from other faith formation approaches, programs, and curricula. These points are necessary to consider because while anyone can use the name "CGS" for their program, there is no pre-packaged, annual purchasing of the program. The investment and is not in books or even in the materials. It is in the catechists and their faithfulness to their own formation.

So the short answer as to why we offer longer sessions is therefore pretty simple: because we want to be as faithful as we can to this time-tested approach to formation for children. A better answer is because we have seen something quite remarkable in the children: a desire to be here longer!

In answer to the question about boredom, Sofia Cavalletti, an internationally-known biblical scholar and one of the foundresses of CGS, writes in her book The Religious Potential of the Child, "We should not alter too often or too rapidly the object of the child's attention, in which case the child would defend himself with an intentional indifference to this wearying, continuous movie. If the child does not have the time to dwell on anything, then everything will come to seem the same to him and he will lose interest in all things" (RPOC, 112.) When we see indifference to the mystery of God, it is not a sign we need to hurry up or give more information, but that the child may need us to slow down and give him more time to ponder.

The children have shown us over and over that this time is not a burden to them. Even at an hour and a half, they will groan and sigh when the catechist rings the bell indicating that it is time to restore our work and finish up for the day.

When the Missionaries of Charity (St. Teresa of Calcutta's order) decided to use Catechesis of the Good Shepherd in their work with children (and more interestingly: in the formation of their new sisters!) they were asked, "What have you found in CGS that is different from other catechesis?" The answer: "Contemplation."  It is not the child alone who experiences this opportunity for deep prayer and contemplation in the atrium. Probably the single greatest reason there is so little turnover of catechists in CGS is that in this approach, the catechist has time to see the child's quiet and individual encounter with God - that "incandescent moment of the meeting with God [which] occurs in secret between the Lord and His creatures" (RPOC, 53).

The content of CGS is nothing new to religious formation. We teach the faith. The striking difference comes in the way we prepare a space and allow time for the children to contemplate the mysteries they receive. In fact, the time in the atrium in which the child is receiving presentations (lessons) is much, much shorter than the time we leave for their personal work and reflection.

To those parents of small children for whom this time commitment can be a challenge: as a mother of little ones, too, I understand your difficulties. It can be hard to trust your little "seedlings" to an approach that seems so different than others around. But after 12 years in this work of CGS (which is over 60 years old and has spread throughout 38 countries in the world), I can testify that the investment in toddlers and 3, 4, and 5 year olds has already borne great fruit in countless families in our area and beyond. It just takes time to see it.

Going to the Edges

"In our day Jesus’ command to “go and make disciples” echoes in the changing scenarios and ever new challenges to the Church’s mission of evangelization, and all of us are called to take part in this new missionary “going forth”. Each Christian and every community must discern the path that the Lord points out, but all of us are asked to obey his call to go forth from our own comfort zone in order to reach all the “peripheries” in need of the light of the Gospel," (Pope Francis, Joy of the Gospel, 20).

Last week I attended a catechetical leaders meeting that focused on "Inclusive Ministry." The two-hour presentation focused on practical ideas for ways that our parish religious education programs can reach out to families with children who have special needs and do a better job of serving them. The conversation drew wider as we considered who in our communities is most in need of someone to pay attention to them and let them know that they, too, are part of the community.

It sort of felt like an examination of conscience for ministry leaders. Am I spending most of my time and resources serving the people it's most easy to serve? Or am I looking to serve the ones who are in most need of the saving news and consolation of the Gospel? Am I mostly serving the ones who are comfortably "in the middle" or am I being attentive to those who are on the edges?

This discernment of the "path the lord points out" will involve a good deal of work and a lot of discussion. We have a few volunteers who are planning to attend an upcoming Inclusive Ministry Conference (www.inclusiveministryconference.com) in November, and this is open to parents and volunteers and parish ministers alike! One thing is certain, it will take a lot of "workers in the vineyard" to identify and do the work our parish is called to do.

In our CGS program, we are putting together a sort of "task force" of interested catechists and volunteers who want to help build resources to serve children with special needs. Children who are less verbal or who are more in need of structure and schedule building will soon have a "schedule builder" with pictures of actual materials and work choices in the atria so that they can plan their time in the atrium with their catechist.

Following the lead of St. Francis of Assisi Parish's Special Needs Ministry, we are also working on the development of a picture missal that will be available in all of the pews for anyone who would benefit from having a visual way to follow what is happening in Mass. (We are looking for sponsors to help us in the printing of this project!)

Also, on the parish side, we are excited to announce that we have three assistive listening devices available (from the ushers at the main entrance) for parishioners who could use this assistance to hear the Gospel proclaimed at Mass more clearly. We are also looking for ways to better serve our parishioners who are not able to receive our Lord in the host at communion because of Celiac Disease or other reasons.

As Pope Francis says, we are not likely going to be able to help parishioners and community members while we sit comfortably in our comfort zone. I don't know what it will look like for our parish, but I invite you into the conversation. First, I suppose, we ought to explore those edges, those peripheries, and find out just who is out there. Then we will have three big questions to answer: What can we do? Who will help do it? What does it look like for us to go and make disciples of ALL?