To our catechists

Once, we had a confirmation preparation session, and a young woman had decided to jump in and learn more about her faith. She was still in the process of deciding whether she wanted to receive the sacrament.

Because she did not yet have a sponsor, when the time came to pair up with a sponsor, she had the unenviable fate of being stuck with me. We talked for a while about the very basics of the faith, and suddenly her eyes filled with tears, and I asked her what was wrong.

She simply said, “You mean it is all true?”

Yes, it is all true.

It is obviously rare to have that dramatic a moment in our catechetical endeavors. Often enough, we are met with silent stares, and the zenith of our hopes is that something will stick. But what happened in my encounter always happens with every authentic catechetical moment: We teach the truth — and not just any truth, but a truth that has the power to unbind the shackled, to speak a powerful word of justice and to reveal a previously-unknown horizon of beauty.

In these difficult times for the Church, at a time when people ask themselves, “Why should we stay,” each and every catechist holds an answer: the truth.

The world has not become less scarring, more accepting or more just in these last few weeks. The story of Jesus Christ — His redemption, His hope and His light — still needs to be told.

Now more than ever, it must be told in the most basic terms. You need not know about Rahner’s “supernatural existential” (my favorite theological term to throw out at parties), but you are a teacher and, indeed, a witness to what God’s love can do and what it means to be part of a community that is given its energy and its being through divine love.

God has called you to this ministry — you, personally. It is a golden age of resources, from YouTube to a Google search, that can answer any questions before you have to dive deeply into the Catechism of the Catholic Church.

But do not leave behind the resource of your own life and how God has shaped it. Speak of a miracle and talk about the first time you saw your child. Speak of community and then share what it means to feel at peace in a church. Speak of justice and then do something just through service and advocacy.

A cold, theoretical approach to catechesis is not just boring (of course, that matters), but it is not how the faith was meant to be taught. It was not how Jesus taught it. Why else would He use parables but as a means to draw people to the truth, to let them wander into a story until they find the place of grace?

We should always remember that the greatest homily Jesus ever gave was that of His selfless, sacrificial life. To know that our God poured Himself out in love for us is the lesson we ultimately champion. Indeed, we have been loved beyond all telling.

You, as a catechist, possess a power far greater than you can imagine. Within each of you is a parable of God’s saving history. It is ever evolving. I have been doing the Journey Retreat for more than 30 years and have done each of the talks multiple times, yet each time I discover something new about myself and my relationship with God.

Whether your catechetical experience is with kindergartners or adults, each time we encounter the Gospel, we are renewed and changed. How can you teach about the preciousness of God’s love and fail to see yourself as a part of that story? How can you engage deeply with the weekly scripture readings and have them not speak to you?

The Gospel always has an effect on us because we were designed by God to have it move us.

As this new year begins, have every faith in yourself. At your baptism, the gift of your faith was imprinted upon you. Now is your opportunity to share it. You got this — and God has you.

(Father Longobucco is diocesan vicar for Catholic faith formation and education and pastor of St. Kateri Tekakwitha parish in Schenectady.)