Living our faith

As Easter approaches, I’m sure we are all asking ourselves the same question: “Are eggs good for us this year?” It seems every year something new is discovered about eggs, usually negating the previous findings and leaving us in utter confusion. Most of us have thrown up our hands in defeat, taking our chances and eating those mysterious and divisive eggs.

All jokes aside, this Easter is a good time to ask ourselves if our faith has become like the egg argument. Have we thrown up our hands in resignation because of the confusion, complication and challenges a healthy faith life brings with it, or have we committed ourselves to living in a way that models Christ despite all the challenges?

Let’s be honest: living out the Catholic faith can be difficult, especially as the world becomes more complicated. This is a challenge the church and her saints have struggled with from the beginning. All we need to do is look to Peter and Paul, two of the greatest figures in our Catholic heritage, to see that faith is complicated. Even these two great saints sometimes struggled with one another over matters of faith.

The Second Vatican Council is an example of the entire Catholic Church working to define itself in the midst of a changing world. This should give us courage and remind us that a healthy faith life involves questions. Where would the church be if it refused to face ongoing challenges?  What saints would we have to look up to if they had turned away from the situations they found themselves in? The bottom line is, we must each continue to become more like Jesus Christ, and that will involve struggles. 

As many saints describe it, we are to put on Christ. As Catholics, we strive to wrap ourselves with Christ, to look like him in word, deed and action. We hope to become so much like Christ that we will rise as he did. What a magnificent call! Jesus has asked us to be like him, to carry on the work that he began, to be Christ to one another.

In the Old Testament, God reveals himself to Moses as Yahweh. Translated into English, this Hebrew word means “I am.” We remember that Jesus is fully human as well as divine. In our efforts to live out our faith, we are called to put on Christ, to bring the presence of God to all our human activities, to bring God into all that is human. Think about how often we say the words, “I am.” I am a Catholic, I am a father, I am a mother, I am a friend, I am an engineer, I am a pharmacist: the list goes on and on. A healthy faith life recognizes that whenever we use the words “I am,” there is an obligation to bring God (Yahweh) into the human work we do. How else can we be Christ in the world?

If we are to be like Christ, we must learn how to do it and commit ourselves to living out what we have learned. This is where we, as Catholics, also place our faith in the church. The church guides us to be more like Christ, even as we are all part of the church. This means we are all both teachers and students. Teaching by word and example and learning from our brothers and sisters are difficult tasks that require commitment each day. It is in our parishes and homes that we should find the support and nourishment to live out our Catholic faith.

Throughout my work in various ministries, I have found the biggest stumbling block in most people’s faith lives is the learning component. There are usually three reasons for this: 1.) not knowing where to go to find answers to questions 2.) confusion because of conflicting interpretations of church teaching and 3.) finding the time to continue learning in a busy world. These are all legitimate, but each must be overcome if we are going to commit to growing in faith.

Here are some practical ways to begin nurturing a healthy faith life. Let’s start with the home, where faith questions should be encouraged. This can be difficult and even awkward if your household is not used to talking about faith. Challenging questions are sure to come up. Just remember, no one has all the answers. That’s why every home should have three resources as a starting point: a Catholic study Bible, a Catechism and a Catholic Encyclopedia. Remember to be patient with yourself and those around you.  If you’re new at this, some of the church language can be intimidating. That’s when it’s time to go to your parish.

All parishes are equipped with great resources or can at least point you in the right direction to help you work through your questions. Keep in mind that if you are asking a question, other people are most likely asking the same one. Encourage your parish to offer workshops or classes to help with these faith questions. As Bishop Trautman mentions in his column on page 10, the Why Catholic? program continues to be a wonderful opportunity to address a number of basic faith questions.

Not all questions have easy answers. Great theologians and scholars continue trying to understand the mysteries of the church. This Easter, as we celebrate the resurrection and God’s love for us, take the time and learn how to put on Christ. Rely on the example of the church and her saints to overcome any roadblocks in your way.

—Guest columnist Eric Dart has just completed his master's degree in theology at Gannon University and will begin work on his doctorate at Duquesne University this fall. He also serves as director of Camp Notre Dame.

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Listening: From Lunch to Liturgy

One day when I was in junior high school, a group of upperclassmen called a seventh-grader to their lunch table. As the young student stood silently, one of the seniors began to lecture him about how upperclassmen were far greater than younger, smaller junior high students. Not surprisingly, the seventh-grader's eyes quickly glazed over. After a few minutes, while the upperclassman was still rambling, the young student silently turned and began to walk back to his own table. The upperclassman saw him leave, stopped mid-sentence, and shouted, “Hey! Where are you going? I'm not done talking to you.” The seventh-grader looked back at the upperclassman and replied, “You weren't done talking, but I was done listening.”

In this story, the words spoken by the upperclassman were inflammatory, unfounded and untrue, so the seventh grader's “I'm done listening” attitude makes sense. Rather than stand and risk getting into a fight, turning and walking away was a positive decision. However, in other situations, this “I'm done listening” attitude can lead to negative consequences. For Catholics, the Mass is one such situation.

When we attend Mass, we experience a feast of symbols for the senses. We see processions and colorful vestments; we taste Christ's body and blood in the consecrated bread and wine; we touch our foreheads with refreshing holy water and extend our hands to our neighbors in the sign of peace; we smell burning beeswax candles and incense. More than anything else, though, we hear words—those proclaimed by others and those proclaimed by our own voices.

Generally, we try to listen to those words as best we can. We hear the readings, in which the living Word of God is present and proclaimed in our midst. We listen to the homily in the hope that the presider will help us to connect those readings to our own lives. Our ears are captured by music—sung by ourselves, a cantor, a choir, or the presider—that elevates the importance of words and gives them a stronger depth of emotion and feeling than if they were simply recited.

All of these liturgical words are important because they have the potential to open our hearts to grace which transforms our lives. They can both comfort us and challenge us to live our faith as baptized followers of Jesus Christ.

For us, then, the potential problem often concerns the many other words in the Mass. Without even realizing what we're doing, we can focus so much on the readings, homily and music that we miss the rest of the words of the Mass. For example, we hear the words of the Ordinary—the parts of the Mass that remain constant during every Mass—so frequently that we can find ourselves reciting or singing them without even thinking about what we are saying. As for the words of the Proper—the words that change from week to week—some are so short that we barely notice them when they are spoken by the presider. Especially if they are being
proclaimed quickly, we sometimes hear only the beginning (“Let us pray”) and the end (“one God, forever and ever”) without hearing any of the words in between.

These words of the liturgy are never done speaking to us. Their poetic beauty has the potential to deepen our understanding of the divine mystery, to invite us to a profound encounter with God, to unite us to one another in prayer, and to transform our very lives. However, if any of this potential is to be realized, we must never subconsciously allow ourselves to be done listening to everything except the readings, homily and music.

Admittedly, it is true that we will not fully, actively and consciously listen to every single word of every single liturgy. We are imperfect people, and when we come to Mass, sometimes we are filled with concern or anxiety that prevents us from listening. Sometimes we must care for children or other loved ones during Mass. Sometimes our attention will simply wane. Even on those occasions when we do feel fully attentive, sometimes our ability to listen is affected by a scratchy microphone, a weak speaker or a thunderstorm raging outside.

But while truly listening to every single word may be impossible, we should still strive to listen to all of the words we hear, the words we say and the words we sing at Mass. Throughout the Gospels, Jesus repeatedly commands his apostles to listen to his words, and at Mass, this listening is our task too. Before Mass begins, then, it can be worthwhile for us to take just a moment to silently pray: “I know that you're not done talking to me, Lord. And today, even though my ears, my mind and my heart may be distracted, I promise: I'm not done listening.”
As we listen to the words of the liturgy, then—those we sing, those we speak and those we hear—let us strive to be true listeners. In doing so, may we grow ever closer to our loving God, who calls us by name and who is never done talking to us.

Guest columnist Paul Radkowski, an M.A. in liturgical studies student at St. John's University in Collegeville, Minn., has served as an accompanist at numerous parishes including his home parish of Good Shepherd in West Middlesex, Sacred Heart in Sharon and St. Joseph in St. Joseph, Minn..

—Matthew Clark is the associate director of the Office of Worship for the Erie Diocese.

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Notes from the edge…of the diocese
Snapshots on Lay Ministry

Have you ever found a porcupine in your path? I did. I almost stepped on one soaking up the morning sun in the long grass of Brush Hollow Trail north of Ridgway. A porcupine makes you stop and think. How should I go forward? It took a good bit of shouting and encouragement before my path was clear and I could go on. What a porcupine has to do with Theology 101 will become clear later on.

When I met the porcupine, I was in the third day of a series of presentations and workshops in the eastern part of the Diocese of Erie: Saturday, Smethport; Sunday Clearfield and Ramey; Monday Ridgway; Tuesday, Marienville. I was meeting with pastors and liturgical ministers on a range of topics: formation for ministers of Communion, liturgical musicians, starting a liturgy committee. As always, our shared goal was to help people understand their role in carrying out the mission of Christ.

Vocation, from the Latin vocare, to call, has come to mean a calling to the priesthood or religious life—both critical in these times. But vocations are not for clergy and religious alone. God gives all of us gifts and calls us to use them for building up the kingdom. In baptism we are born into a share of the priestly, prophetic and kingly role of Christ.

Our priestly role calls us to offer ourselves in service to others; our prophetic role, to proclaim the Good News in our actions and words. Our kingly role calls us to build up the kingdom of God. Have you been listening for your call? Do you understand your gifts and how you might use them to build up the kingdom?

While all of us are called to reflect Christ in the workplace, some are called to liturgical ministries as lectors, altar servers, ministers of holy Communion, musicians and ministers of hospitality. Some have the charism of caring for those who are sick at home or in the hospital. Others are called to teach in Catholic schools or in programs of religious education. Increasingly these days, some of the baptized are feeling called to a more formal role in the church which requires in-depth training, specialized skills, pastoral formation and an advanced degree. Examples include directors of religious education, parish pastoral ministers, directors of music and liturgy and directors of diocesan offices.

People who feel called to such positions and whose call is recognized by the church, dedicate their lives in a professional way to building up the kingdom of God in collaboration with the clergy. They are called lay ecclesial ministers when authorized by their bishop and when they meet the necessary formation requirements described in Co-workers in the Vineyard, a publication of the Bishops of the United States. These are not clerical ministries; rather they are areas of responsibility where professionally formed lay people may serve to further the mission of Jesus Christ.

Enter the porcupine. I had been stuck while thinking about how to describe the breadth of the ministry of the baptized. The way forward seems to be to hear from professionally formed ministers from around the diocese. To that end, the coming articles for Theology 101 will feature lay ministers from Bradford, Erie, North East and West Middlesex. They share a commitment to minister to the people of God. You might think of these articles as snapshots of lay ministry or as notes/postcards from the edge—the edges of the diocese that is.

The following writers will appear in future Theology 101 columns, sharing their experiences of ministry in the Diocese of Erie:

Barb Bettwy of North East is a canon lawyer for the Diocese of Erie. In addition to her law degree from The Catholic University of America, Barb has a master’s in pastoral ministry from St. Francis College. She is currently a judge in the Office of the Tribunal. Barb also has extensive experience with the RCIA process and was the director of the Office of Christian Initiation for nine years in a neighboring diocese. She coordinates the RCIA in her parish community at St. Gregory Parish in North East.

Eric Dart of Erie, former youth director at Our Lady of Peace Parish, is finishing up work on his master’s in pastoral studies at Gannon University. He was the director of the Camp Notre Dame’s summer program this year. He is also involved in visiting the sick in local hospitals and nursing homes. He hopes to pursue a doctorate in systematic theology at Duquesne University.

Regina Gabriel, of Bradford, holds a master of divinity degree and a master of music in organ performance. She has worked for the Archdiocese of St. Paul-Minneapolis as well as the Diocese of Great Falls-Billings, Mt., where every church visit involves hundreds of miles of driving. She plays organ and works with vocal ensembles in the Bradford area and is particularly interested in how music may assist those in hospice care and those facing death.

Paul Radkowski, of West Middlesex, is currently working on an M.A. in liturgical studies at Saint John's University, Collegeville, MN. He has served as an accompanist at numerous parishes, including his home parish of Good Shepherd, and he is committed to working with other ministers to enhance the beauty and reverence of parish liturgies.

—Matthew Clark is the associate director of the Office of Worship for the Erie Diocese.

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What does it mean? Symbolism in the Liturgy

Eager for a break on a long trip home from visiting family, my wife and I pulled into a rest stop off Route 80 seeking restrooms and a short walk. We didn’t anticipate a lesson on liturgical symbols. It was a beautiful sunny day and as we strolled along the parking area we came upon a huge tractor trailer parked in the shade of some trees at the very end of the lot. An advertisement printed in letters several feet tall stretched down the length of the trailer. It read: “Say it with flowers.”

What does this have to do with liturgy? The answer lies buried in the question: “What do flowers mean?” and its many possible answers: I love you! My condolences. Congratulations! I’m sorry. Happy 25th Birthday/Anniversary! We miss you. Feel better soon. How beautiful! The meanings at liturgy might be as diverse: Praise God, the creator and redeemer of all. We honor you with the fruits of your creation, the bread, the wine, ourselves, flowers of your creation.

Flowers are but one example of symbols in the liturgy. Symbols have a bad reputation. Some say “it’s only a symbol” indicating something is not real. Catholic theology, however, maintains that symbols point to something real but beyond our easy comprehension. Nonetheless, although veiled in mystery and multiple layers of meaning, symbols themselves are part of the reality. Does this sound too deep? Think of the flowers. What do you mean when you give flowers? How would you put it into words? Do the words convey your meaning in the same way that the flowers do? Which is more real, the words, the flowers or the feeling that you wish to convey? Are not the flowers themselves, as a symbol, part of the meaning?

Of the main symbols at liturgy, the most visible is the altar, which represents Christ. This is why the priest kisses it when he arrives in the sanctuary and when he leaves. It is the table where the one sacrifice of Christ is again made present and the place where we share a ritual meal as a community belonging to Christ. It is where we offer Eucharist, that is, thanksgiving, over bread and wine through the actions of the priest where, as the General Instruction to the Roman Missal reminds us, we learn to offer ourselves. Each meaning is mysterious and deep and is not easily explained.

Words often fail when describing an inner feeling of awe, wonder or peace in God’s presence. An old advertisement says of a snack food, “It’s indescribably delicious.” A teen might say of a concert, “It’s awesome.” Poetry, music, art and architecture come closer to conveying deep meanings when everyday words. fail.

Symbols enable us to delve into the meaningfulness of liturgical experiences and thereby experience God more deeply. Symbols must be visible, even large, in order to work well. For example, a plentiful pouring of water at baptism may be more a powerful expression than a few drops. We must spend time in reflection to draw out their meanings.

Remember that the next time you send or receive flowers.

—Matthew Clark is the associate director of the Office of Worship for the Erie Diocese.

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