by Dr. Vern Steiner, president of the Emmaus Institute for Biblical Studies
Before our family moved from Chicago to British Columbia, where I had taken a teaching position in 1990, the university president and seminary dean admonished me to leave the United States completely behind.
“When you cross the border, become as a Canadian,” they urged, “and in your upcoming classes and conversations with students, avoid making comparative references to life in the U.S. Canadians are sensitive to that kind of thing.” I heeded their advice and enjoyed a blessed 14-year association with that school. A wiser person than I might observe similar cautions when it comes to an ecclesial relocation. But I take the risk.
In the brand of Protestantism with which I am most familiar, terms like ‘education’ and ‘school’ are understood to apply as much to the ongoing formation of adults as to children; and that conviction is reflected in church budgets, staffing, and building designs. Generally speaking, parents assume the responsibility of teaching their children the faith; church and school are valued as supplements, not substitutes. (One might think they had read the Catechism of the Catholic Church §2226: “Family catechesis precedes, accompanies, and enriches other forms of instruction in the faith.”) This means that both Dad and Mom are diligent learners, educating themselves in the faith through sermons, Sunday School classes, and Bible studies.
Lest anyone construe what I am saying as a negative reflection on our Catholic educational system, this grandpa is gratefully blessed to have seven of his grandchildren in Catholic schools here in Lincoln—five at St. Peter and two at Pius X. Rather, my plea is for adults to seize every available opportunity to strengthen and deepen their faith through lifelong learning, and for parents to take seriously their role and responsibility as the primary catechizers of their children.
The broader point toward which I am driving was brought home to me a few years ago, while teaching an RCIA class on the Eucharist. Rather than placing the cookies on the lowest shelf, as teachers are regularly urged to do, I prepared a lesson packed with content from the Bible, the Catechism, and a few other sources. A young Catholic woman, engaged to be married to the gentleman sitting beside her, was noticeably engrossed in the topic that evening, writing copious notes with obvious and profound interest. Her non-Catholic fiancé was equally captivated by the study. In a warm exchange after class, I commended their attentiveness to the discussion of a topic I assumed would be familiar, especially for her. “On the contrary,” she replied. “I learned about the Sacraments as a child at my Catholic school. This is the first time I have ever heard the Eucharist taught at an adult level.”
It occurs to me that what this devoted young woman expressed might represent the experience of many Catholic adults. They were formed in the faith as children, or perhaps in their high school religion classes, at which point they stopped learning, reading, and studying. Religious life became for them a shift into Neutral, of coasting passively on established habits with minimal intellectual advancement (or engagement). In any other area of life, when mind or body does not progress beyond childhood or youth, we call it a disability or a “challenge”; we seem less concerned about continual growth in matters of faith. This arrest in our development probably explains why many adults (or their children) end up leaving the Church, or doubting the Church’s teaching, or cowering when confronted with challenges from fallen-away Catholics or non-Catholics, or betraying the faith (like prominent “Catholics” in public office), or puzzling over a convert’s enthusiasm for what barely draws a yawn from the “cradler.”
As a neophyte Catholic (or as one who ignores a famous warning about fools rushing in where angels fear to tread), let me venture a few critical reflections on the two responses I hear most often in connection with what I have just described, especially regarding those who wander from the Church or who forsake its teachings.
Response #1: “They were poorly catechized.” That seems obvious enough, but where did the failure occur? Was it a breakdown in childhood catechesis, or in adult catechesis—a “milk” deficiency in infancy, or a deprivation of “solid food” in maturity (Hebrews 5:11-14)? How shall we expect people to maintain a robust and vibrant faith if their elementary formation is not sufficiently nutritious to sustain their spiritual health in a grownup world, with its intellectual demands, ideological alternatives, and socio-political assaults?
In his recent column, “A Church in mission or a Church in meetings?” George Weigel laments that Catholics “are drifting away from the faith in droves,” and he explains this “exodus from the pews” as “a byproduct of decades of inept catechesis and flaccid preaching.” If Weigel is right, it behooves our catechists and priests to do something about it, like placing as much emphasis on lifelong adult education as on the training of our children and youth. Granted, knowledge alone does not guarantee spirituality; but true spirituality cannot survive and thrive without it. I am certain that Saints Jerome and Robert Bellarmine, whose feast days we celebrate this month, would agree.
Response #2: “They lack a deep, personal encounter with Christ.” That seems obvious as well. What might be less apparent is the requisite instructional component in that needed encounter with Jesus, who first “interpreted to [his disciples] in all the Scriptures the things concerning himself” before he opened their eyes to recognize him “in the breaking of the bread” (Luke 24:27-35). Both Scripture and Sacrament—indeed, Scripture then Sacrament—are essential to authentic personal encounter. I worry that, just as Protestants veer to one side of this “personal encounter” (We’ve got the Bible), Catholics swerve to the other (We’ve got the Sacraments). Pope Benedict XVI did not mince words in exposing this false dichotomy: Unless liturgical actions are “steeped in” and “draw their meaning” from Sacred Scripture, “liturgy really does become pointless, just fooling around.” As I frequently tell my students, this point deserves a long, reflective pause.
Thankfully, the adult Catholics of this diocese are blessed with multiple opportunities to grow beyond Confirmation, with provisions like the Newman Institute for Catholic Thought and Culture, the Benedict XVI School of Catechesis, and the Emmaus Institute for Biblical Studies (ask me!), to say nothing of parish-based studies of various kinds. Remedies are at hand for anyone who feels “poorly catechized” or who lacks “a deep, personal encounter with Christ.” In either case, the fault might not be ours; but the responsibility to do something about it is.