A Letter to Catholic Parents--- From the One Teaching Your Children

                This summer I had the extraordinary privilege of being a Totus Tuus teacher for a diocese a state away from my home. As a Totus Tuus teacher, I was paired on a team with two men (one of them being a seminarian) and another college aged woman. Each week, we traveled to a new parish to put on a week-long Totus Tuus 'camp', where during the day we taught catechesis to children aged 6---11 and gave witness at night to middle-schoolers and teens aged 12--18. All sixteen of us teachers arrived in late May for our training week, where under the direction of our priestly bosses, we devised lesson plans on the Glorious Mysteries of the Rosary, the Lord's Prayer, different types of prayer, Mary, and the saints. We were then divided into four teams of four and sent to "go proclaim the Gospel".

                And it was not easy. But it was beautiful. By far one of the most grace-filled times of my life. As I am not currently an education major, and the only interaction I'd had with children prior to Totus Tuus was in a summer-camp environment, I was looking forward to my time playing teacher. I was excited to evangelize and to spread the faith. I was also excited to be welcomed into a new parish community each week and have the opportunity to live with host families who would shepherd me into their own family for my brief stay.

                But by the end of my first full week of teaching--- I began to notice some trends among my students.

                Now, I don't pretend to know the situation of every family, nor do I claim to have exclusive, Divine knowledge of every household, but from spending time in the classroom with your children, Catholic parents, I have noticed some definite trends.

                It may be presumptuous for me to speak, me being twenty years old and with no children of my own. But, I noticed some things in those classrooms, a side of these children that not many people--- not even their parents probably get to see.

                It became apparent to me very quickly which children prayed with their families. It became obvious very quickly which children were well catechized at home. And it became very obvious to me....which children weren't.

                Now, I am fully aware how hard it can be sometimes to get children excited about the faith. Especially when we live in a culture that imposes a myriad of things as supposedly more important than Jesus. Instead our culture seeks to boil down the idea of "practicing Catholic" to Mass on Sundays and prayers before meals--- which, honestly, should be the bare minimum that a Catholic family should do together.

                Yes. The bare minimum.

                Why?

                This summer I taught ten year olds who could not name the three Persons of the Holy Trinity, despite having been in Catholic education their whole lives. This summer I taught many, many elementary school children and high schoolers who did not know how to pray from their hearts. Who knew not how to speak to their Lord in a form other than a memorized prayer gleaned from Catholic schooling. This summer I taught ten and eleven year olds who had not been to Confession since their first Reconciliation at the age of seven. I taught children who had gone several years without receiving the Eucharist, the source and summit of our faith. And I wish that these were rare exceptions, but other findings have dissuaded that line of thinking.

                As I looked at these students who, though having spent a decade of their young lives in the faith, knew so very little about what the Church actually teaches, I couldn't help wonder how many of them would keep the faith as they got older.

                Statistically speaking, 1 in 10 American adults are lapsed Catholics or Catholic in name only.  And looking at my students who held such a precious and invaluable innocence, my heart was sad.

                At each parish, parishioners would thank us for the work we were doing, saying how needed it was. And I agree, supplementary catechesis is a large need in our church, and a beautiful ministry.

                But I also began to realize that though I taught a full eighteen lessons some weeks, my being there was only a dip into the ocean of needs my students have.

                Because my students were hungry. They wanted answers. They wanted to know about Jesus.

Even some of the most unenthused students, would often times jump at the chance to participate in the Mass we celebrated each day. Whether it was serving, lectoring, or presenting the gifts, even some of the most lackluster students would grow excited at the chance to participate in the liturgy. Because some deep part of them understood it was important.

                Even if it wasn't treated as such at home.

                In one lesson, during my last week of teaching, when I was speaking about the importance of Mass, one student raised his hand.

                "Sometimes I have soccer games and we don't go to Mass--- is that okay?" he asked.

                I responded as gently and as charitably as I could that no, it is not okay to miss Mass because of soccer, and that maybe he should ask his parents to take him to Mass even on weekends when there is sporting events.

                He nodded and I continued with my lesson.

                Afterwards, when parents arrived to pick up their children, I found myself cringing. I figured it was only a matter of time before a parent approached me, angered by what I had taught. Because surely, it wasn't my place to tell their children that they had to go to Mass, was it? Surely it wasn't my place to....tell the truth?

                Earlier in the summer, I had a mother approach me with a vaguely accusatory and wary tone asking me what I'd been teaching her children. I responded, confused, that I'd been teaching lessons completely in line with Church teaching, that we'd been teaching things from the Catechism of the Catholic Church. She pondered my answer and proceeded to ask me why, then, did her children come home every night with questions about Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory?

                I thought to answer her concerns with the fact that questions are only a natural part of learning, that her children are merely curious about the faith. But something stopped me as our conversation unfolded, and a new realization set in. These children were not taught at home. They were not catechized at home, and it wasn't so much that this woman was mad at me for catechizing them, after all--- wasn't that what she was paying me to do? Instead, she was mad that her children were approaching her with questions that she herself did not know how to answer.

                Like so many of my students, it seemed that Totus Tuus had sparked a natural curiosity in this woman's children. They longed to take the lessons that they had learned and go deeper. They longed to dive into the 2000 years of Church history and learn more.

                But throughout my summer, I noticed so many students whose curiosity would be sparked and I couldn't help but wonder how many of them would subsequently go home to parents who would not herald and honor this quest for Truth. I wondered how many of them would go home to parents who would  squelch this curiosity with indifference or indignation to hide the embarrassment of their own lack of catechesis.

                 Subsequently, a large majority of the high school students I taught did not appear to have any kind of faith development at home. Many of them didn't know how to come before our Lord in adoration. Many of them did not know how to pray from the heart. Many of them, by their own admission, spoke to no one, not even their parents, about their faith. And so any and all of their prayer experiences are kept inside of the Church walls and within the week that they were shepherded to Catholic youth programs or Church camps, and so stunted from bearing permanent fruit in their daily lives.

                I often times noticed a clear distinction from the catechized kids than those not catechized at home. The children I taught who were clearly catechized at home were often-times (but not always) more respectful, more patient, and more willing to admit wrongs.

                It seems to me that the children who have been taught to respect Christ in the Eucharist have a much easier time respecting authority figures, even me, their temporary teacher. It seems to me that the children who have been taught to be patient and attentive during Mass have an easier time doing so in the classroom or elsewhere. It seems to me that the children who have been taught it is right and good to say sorry to God for our sins have an easier time saying sorry to their fellow students as well.

                And I know that there are exceptions. And that willful, wild, and disobedient children appear in every family, no matter the piety of the parents. And I know that the behavior of the child does not always reflect the enthusiasm of the parents for the faith--- as it is, ultimately, the child's decision to accept the faith or not. But, as a general rule, there was a clear contrast between my students catechized at home, and my students whose religious education were kept to 45 minute slots in Catholic schools and the hourly Sunday Mass.

                So here is my impassioned plea.

                

               Catholic parents, here is a letter from one who has taught your children. And it seems to me while there are many Catholic parents in the world, there are so still many Catholic parents who only really do the parent part of the equation, and not the Catholic part.

                But here's the thing: by their very nature, Catholic families are supposed to look different than other families. As Catholics our very lives are supposed to look different than the secular world. Our families and lives are supposed to be a beacon of light in the world.

                And for those who do teach the faith at home, I saw that light. I saw it in the faces and the innocence of your children. I saw it in their respect, their kindness, their reverence, their charity. 

                But for those who do not teach the faith at home, or expect the occasional Mass to really give your child a relationship with Christ that is so desperately desired and needed--- I beg you, begin anew. Begin now. Please, educate your children at home. As a family. Make it a family quest for Truth. Learn with your children. For what a tragedy it would be for you to give your children the whole world and not give them the one thing that really matters---Jesus. What a tragedy it would be for them to gain the whole world, yet lose their souls.

                Because we don't have an excuse. Here in America where Catholic Churches are abundant, where there are so many at-home resources for catechesis and religious ed, where we cannot claim to face any kind of danger from transmitting the faith at home unlike our brothers and sisters in the Middle East--- there is simply no excuse.

                Parents, I have spent time with your children. And they are hungry. And they are searching. And they have such a need for Jesus. And what I did for them this summer--- is not enough. It is simply not enough. I have seen this vast ocean of needs in each of your children and  have prayed before the tabernacle in helplessness.

                Because I have but a bucket to remove some water from this ocean.

                I, a mere lightning bolt in your children's lives, here one moment gone the next, need your help.

                I need you to teach them at home. Because your children have such beautiful souls. And beautiful gifts. And beautiful hearts, as I'm sure you already know.

                And the Church needs them. The Church needs your children with their souls, and gifts and hearts. The Church needs them badly. And She wants them.

                As does Her bridegroom, Christ Jesus.

                The Church needs parents who view their holy vows as the vocation--- the mission--- that it is. Because if not, the cycle of cultural Catholicism continues. The number of Catholics in name-only increases. If not, how much harder will to be for your own children to fulfill their own vocation of sainthood if they have to search for places to be fed? How much harder will it be for them to stay in the faith if their own parents, their own family, is not cheering them on?

                Please, Catholic parents, your children have beautiful souls and beautiful potential.

                The world already has a lot of parents.  

                But the world needs more Catholic parents who are committed to spreading the faith.  I need your help. Because what I am doing is not enough. I only have a bucket on the shore of the sea.

                Please, water the seeds I have planted. Please, teach the faith at home. Please, treat your marriage and parenthood as the vocation it is. Do it for the Church. Do it for the good of this world. Do it for your children.

                Their very souls and salvation depend on it.

                Totus Tuus Ego Maria Sum.

               

Faith Like A Child

"'Truly I say to you, unless you are converted and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven.'" (Mtt 18:3)

             It was a Wednesday afternoon and we were in the organ loft of the church. I had a dozen seven and eight year olds with me, and trying to get them to pay attention to Father Andrew on this church tour and not to wander away felt a lot like herding cats.

            It was my first week as a Totus Tuus summer catechetical teacher for a diocese a state away from my hometown. I had been assigned to work on a team with three other young Catholics, to travel to a new parish in the archdiocese every week to minister to elementary and high school students, to share my faith, and teach supplementary catechesis.

            While only a week in, I was already feeling the demands that the job had placed on me--- mild sleep deprivation and a growing fear that I was nowhere near qualified for this job.

            But as we stood in that organ loft and gazed at the church below, the pastor of this parish pointed to each stained glass window in turn and told my students the story behind each. I listened as best I could while also corralling my students, making sure none of them leaned too far over the balcony or decided to play on the spiral staircase that lead up here. But as I paced behind my row of students, I realized that two of them were missing.

            Turning, I realized that two of my kids had wandered away, to the back of the organ loft to where a tall crucifix stood beneath the stained glass window of St. Cecilia.

            One little boy, aged seven, knelt below the crucifix, eyes closed, head bowed, hands clasped in a perfect picture of prayer. A little girl, the same age, stood next to him, her head tilted as she looked at the face of Jesus.

            My heart swelled.

            I walked back to where they stood and the little boy didn't so much as twitch as I drew closer, still wrapped up in his private act of devotion. As I drew near to the little girl, I noticed a delicate frown on her face.

            "I feel bad for Him," she whispered, her eyes still on the crucifix. She reached out and placed a thin finger in the wound in Jesus' side. "That looks like it really hurt."

            I stood there for a moment, breathless. Unsure what to say. The little boy raised his head and looked at me too. I nodded. Swallowed hard.

            "Yes," I said. "He did that for you."

            A look passed over her face, then. A look I couldn't quite identify. She nodded. And suddenly Father was telling all of my students to line up at the staircase as we descended into the main church area below.

            There have been several times so far this summer that I have been struck by the faith of children.

            How easy it is for them to trust in God. How confident they are of His love. How they long to show any form of devotion to Him no matter how small.  How much they take delight in being pious.

            I have taught a wide gamut of students so far this summer. From students in low income areas, to students in some of the richest suburbs of the city. I have taught students with a disheartening lack of Catechesis, to seven year olds who could explain the complexity of the Immaculate Conception to me.

            But I have noticed something in common no matter the age or demographic of the students: when I tell my kids how much Jesus loves them--- they believe me. They believe me without hesitation.

            When, for a warm-up exercise, I asked my room full of third and fourth grade students what they would most like to have as their last meal on Earth and several of them without hesitation responded 'The Body and Blood of Christ', I was struck again by the purity of their faith. If I was asked that same question, would I say the same thing? Certainly not at that age.

             When teaching about saints, I am struck by the eagerness in which these children wanted to pursue sanctity. They want to be saints with ferocity.

            Not to say I don't have difficult children. I always have children who think they are too cool for the Church. I have kids who think it is boring. Who don't care. Who are already saturated with the culture. And while none of my kids are ever truly present at the Mass we celebrate each day, I notice how eager they are to help in the liturgy in some way. How, as a general rule, they desire to be good.

            Which made me wonder--- when did I lose that same eagerness? Surely I had it once. I remember thinking to myself when I was nine years old that I was going to become a saint someday. After all, I had reasoned to myself, how hard can it be?

            But now, at the age of twenty, jaded by the secular world and my own concupiscence, I still long for sainthood but see it as a much more formidable goal.
            While I am still a practicing Catholic who desires Heaven very much, I don't have nearly the singularity of mind that my students have. As one of my little ones prayed aloud asking the Virgin Mary to help get her to Heaven, I realized that some of these students trust in prayer far more than I. I realized that they want Heaven perhaps more than I do now. How easy it is for them to see what matters.

            I found myself wondering as I observed my students--- when did I lose it? That childhood eagerness. The certainty of God's love. The certainty of my own calling to greatness. My own desire to please the Lord. When did it fade? When did my priorities become filled with other things? 

            I am still searching for those answers.

            But what I know, more than any other one thing, is that I have much to learn from my students this summer. From their innocence. Their unrestrained joy. Their trust and hope for the future. They are the ones teaching me.

            That same day at the end of our church-tour as I watched my little ones kneel before the tabernacle and say good-bye to Jesus as we left the church, as I watched them all concentrate so earnestly in prayer, I prayed something of my own:

            Jesus, give me a fraction of faith and innocence that these children have. Let me be like them, Lord.

            No wonder Jesus told us to be like the little children. No wonder He told us to guard them from sin. We need to make sure that they keep the faith. That they don't become lukewarm. They they don't lose the way they are now. Because their innocence is inspiring. Their faith is uplifting.

            Let us all be like little children.

            They sure have a lot of wisdom to impart.

            Totus Tuus Ego Maria Sum. Amen.

[Please keep me and the other Totus Tuus teachers in your prayers. We still have two more parishes to travel to this summer. Please pray for our success and endurance. God bless.]