The importance of sycamore trees
The importance of sycamore trees
Before I became a Catholic, reading and reflecting on Scripture, hearing the Word expounded, meeting with other Christians for prayer and praise, and praying on my own, were all important things I did in the practice of my faith. And when I did became a Catholic they remained just as important to me, although I also began to appreciate the reality of the Mass much more than I had before. I encountered some more things people did, such as the Stations of the Cross, saying the rosary, exposition of the Blessed Sacrament, the Sacrament of Reconciliation, honouring Our Lady and the Saints and asking them to pray for us, and going to places like Lourdes. I now understand some of these practices more than I did and am much the better for doing so. The others I may come to understand more fully one day in the future when the Spirit leads me in that direction. But I see them all as part a fascinating spiritual landscape to be explored. A corporate distillation of 2000 years of shared spiritual reflection
But how many hours a day should I spend in prayer, or in reading the Scripture or in saying the Office, and how often should I say the rosary or go to Mass during the week, and how much of my money and time should I give away to those in need? The answer could well be ‘a lot more than I do’ but, apart from the useful discipline of the Sunday obligation, it’s the S word – the should word that often indicates that the cart is before the horse and that there is a major loss of the plot. St Paul (1 Corinthians13:3) went as far as saying ‘and even if I give up my body to be burned – if I am without love, it will do me no good whatever’. What St Paul (and, indeed, St Thérèse of Lisieux) meant by ‘love’ was inseparable from an intimate relationship with Jesus Christ through the Holy Spirit. Originally the word ‘charity’ meant this kind of love (derived from the Latin caritas), but somehow the ‘should’ type of do-gooding gave birth to the unpleasant expression ‘as cold as charity’.
Sycamore Fig
Zacchaeus (Luke chapter 19) was a rich man but his riches did not win him any friends. His neighbours hated him as a tax-collector and a collaborator with the Roman army of occupation, and they suspected him of ripping them off. When Zacchaeus heard that Jesus was coming, the crowd would not let him get through to the roadside as Jesus came along. Being, like me, vertically challenged, he couldn’t see what was going on. But Zacchaeus had one quality that was to prove the gateway to life. He knew that he wanted to see Jesus very much indeed. He was so determined that he single-mindedly climbed a tree*, perhaps spoiling his expensive clothes in the process and causing some loss of dignity. But he wanted to see Jesus more than anything else. And not only did he see Jesus but Jesus looked up and saw him. And Jesus honoured him beyond his wildest dreams – he chose to come eat with him in his house. Here was totally undeserved and freely-given grace that filled him with joy. We are not told whether Jesus told him that he should clean up his act or even ‘should’ give up being a tax-collector. But when so much love is freely given there isn’t any ‘should’ about it. Zacchaeus reacted to the grace offered by Jesus by repenting and wanting to make amends to anyone he had defrauded by misuse of his office.
Religious practices are good sycamore trees if they help us to see Jesus and to reach out to him. If we let them become ends in themselves they are sycamore trees on the wrong road into Jericho. But if we let the living Holy Spirit lead us to the ways of organising our spiritual life according to where we are at the moment on our faith journey, the Lord will be spending more time at our house.
*The sycamore of the Bible is not the familiar Acer pseudoplatanus, (a kind of maple) that is so common in Britain but the Sycamore Fig , Ficus sycamorus . The tree Zacchaeus climbed would be much smaller than the ones around Wuthering Heights!
On the Road
We know that each inquirer’s journey in faith started long before s/he approached someone in the parish. In recent months we have met up with some people from close to home and some from eastern Europe, from Asia and from Africa. Diverse experiences of church and Christianity enrich our conversations and become parables that question our perspectives. We meet at a particular point on our roads of faith and know that God was there long before.
BarTimeus was on the Jericho road ahead of Jesus. This man seems to be nameless - recorded for us as ‘son of Timeus’. I’m reminded that all who come seeking baptism are already sons and daughters in human and divine relationships. Already they are prepared to recognise Jesus the Christ, already they have shouted out (or, at least, whispered their questions to someone) and been directed to ‘journey in faith’!
In his dark existence the son in next Sunday’s gospel story seems to have been waiting – on the ‘look out’ for possibilities of a different way of living, or seeing. He was restricted in physical sight but not in insight. He found the Son who took those possibilities way beyond his imaginings. We are told he was begging – waiting to be given what he needed to live on. So often we are witnesses in our Journey in Faith groups of the hunger that has developed for people when they experience new challenges in life. The birth of a child, or should I say, the awesome experience of becoming a parent, is one of those sparks that ignite a desire to see more, a recognition that they now perceive life differently. For others it maybe the death of someone close or a new stage in their children’s lives, or simply the culmination of years of questioning. For many different reasons people can find themselves “no longer at ease in the old dispensation…” (cf Journey of the Magi, TS Elliott). Ways that ‘fit’ for them in the past are no longer are enough.
Was the beggar’s ‘trigger’ the noise of the crowd around Jesus? The opposition he encountered made him shout louder. Recently a young mother faced an obstacle to being received into full communion. The questions she had then increased for her but they also led her to a firmness of resolve and a deep peace. Along with this she had a willingness to wait for God’s timing, not hers. Of course, she also took action but it was coming from a place within her that she had not, until then, known in its depths and its patience. The initial anxiety that she felt as a process of discernment was suggested gave way to insights and commitment beyond her expectations.
We all struggle sometimes to find a place from which to face the road ahead. In sharing the insights each is given we are all led to be more aware of our own way on the journey of discipleship. We may be blind to so much of God’s ways for us but have the assurance that healing is offered. With Bar Timeus we, too, ask, “Master, let me see again."
Inquirers, sponsors and catechists alike, as Bar Timeus, come together to walk the road of faith for one reason and then find quite other reasons for continuing. Perspectives are altered on this journey. It may be a profound alteration as with another young woman who recently told us that she had never understood forgiveness before. The unfolding revelation changed her. Feelings of revenge and anger had seemed to her, a normal, even correct response to something like the murder of an innocent child. For many months the forgiveness offered by the child’s mother had bothered her. Now, however, she saw differently and felt that this change in her way of ‘seeing’ had effected a profound change in her. Looking back over recent months she spoke of seeing herself to be a different person now.
The beggar in Mark’s story was probably in a static place on the road so as to beg alms from those leaving Jericho and heading for Jerusalem. As that man became a traveller on the road he saw his life in a totally new way. He had somehow recognised that the person he was told was Jesus of Nazareth was in fact the Messiah and nothing would be the same again. He called out to Jesus as Son of David, not Jesus of Nazareth. He saw what other, sighted people could not see. Some tried to keep him quiet, keep him back – to keep him in his place? Once he was given sight Jesus told him to go, he was cured by his faith. What he did was to follow Jesus along the road from Jericho to Jerusalem – that faith led him was on a road of discipleship. There was nothing to hold him back now that he could see. To make the journey along that road takes courage. Asking for sight or insight means all that was familiar is open change. We are witnesses of this in the lives of our inquirers. May they see evidence of it in us too. It is the encounter with Jesus who asks to fill our needs that gives us what is necessary for the way ahead. As disciples there is companionship with him and his work to be done: a destiny in ‘Jerusalem’ to be faced.
What were you arguing about on the road?
We have just had Sheila O'Dea (formerly of North American Forum on the Catechumenate) with us in the Diocese for three days reflection on our practice of RCIA. At the centre was the Word of God for last Sunday - and the whole thing of 'what were you arguing about on the road,.. being afraid... not saying anything.' This particularly struck me because it amazed me that the 'arguments' about initiation of adults come about because people dont even have copies of the Rite and are simply doing their own thing - many clergy hadnt opened the Rite since they were given it, let alone have studied and reflected on it together, with people from their parish. So that was the first point of encouragement: everyone who is involved at 'leadership' level in the process should have their own copy of the rite, read, mark up and inwardly digest! The Rite is the skeleton and our task is to put flesh on it, and not to replace it with a programme!! Flowing from this essential of knowing the rite inside out, the second point of encouragement: to get to know the community inside out too! If initiation of adults is the responsibility of the baptised and takes place in the heart of the community, a gradual process accommodated to the liturgical year, then we must know the community, and then we can 'link up' our enquirers with people who can accompany them - a single mum with another mum for example, a 20-yr old university student with a student, a family with a family and so on..
The third point of encouragement: the whole mystery of Christ really does unfold over the course of the liturgical cycle, and if we are reflecting on the Word of God Sunday after Sunday after Sunday, then we can be sure that our catechesis will be suitable and complete. These 'feasting on the Word' for at least one year is what the Church calls 'appropriate' preparation - together with the catechumens we feast and grow into the Body of Christ.
RCIA is about who we are as Church - and the focus is not about 'getting sacraments' but on becoming a member of the Body of Christ and doing the mission of Christ! RCIA is about how we celebrate Liturgy and how this forms us as 'Church'. RCIA is about how we do catechesis - and the goal is communion with Christ. And finally, RCIA is about living and sharing the life we have with others - to be a place, a heart, that offers hope and listening, peace and reconciliation - the mission!
What now? Well if we really believe that RCIA is not about 'them' but about 'us', then can we do a few simple things for ourselves?
Encourage 'feasting on the Word' for all the community - many many Catholics still havent heard that God is really present in the Word... there is a 'famine of hearing the Word' (Amos). Can we celebrate the Liturgy of the Word really well every Sunday, and teach people how to open to the power of God's presence through the Word?
Q: To start with, have all the Ministers of the Word in your parish been offered and taken up formation? Including praying with the Word? And then, what about other opportunities to reflect - in families, neighbours, parish groups of any kind?
You Can’t Be Serious!
Over the past couple of Sundays the foot stamping antics of the bold John McEnroe questioning the referee decisions at Wembley seem very appropriate. It is easy to imagine Peter and the other disciples talking among themselves saying “He can’t be serious?”
“How could He possibly mean that the whole adventure will end in total failure? – on a Cross! Surely not!”
“And what does he mean by saying we must become like a stateless child, one who has no say and that’s the way to leadership!”
“And we must work with others who are outside our group and not shut them up!”
He can’t be serious – but maybe He is.
A number of years ago with a small group we visited the Basilica of St Francis in Assisi – it was a most moving occasion. What stayed with me, however, aren’t the beautiful frescos by Giotto or even the image of Francis himself but the question put to us by the American Friar who led us around the building. “Before we begin, can I ask you; “Are you here as tourists or pilgrims?” Rather shame faced we replied “Pilgrims”. Then he said “Great – I will try to bring you into something of the experience of Francis.”
The question has continued to haunt me. Am I a tourist or a pilgrim? – The tourist goes on a journey and tries to capture the moment taking the photo before even looking at the scene, trying to capture the moment - a journey of refreshment and hopefully excitement but essentially the tourist doesn’t change. The adventure just adds to his or her levels of experience and possible knowledge. The Pilgrim on the other hand sets out on a journey where hopefully he or she will experience change, possibly radical change, and come back seeing with different eyes, becoming, in the words of St Paul, a new creation.
These past few weeks are definitely an invitation by the Man Himself to get off the tourist journey into becoming an Adult Christian and move away from a rather shallow discipleship – away from the pick and mix of many a market based media approach to spirituality with instant formation and preference. The invitation is to step into deeper waters, to reflect and grapple with the riddles and ambiguities of the Man from Galilee – a task not just for one or two evenings but for years to come.
How is it possible to die and rise again – to be open to complete failure– and make that a creative way of life?
If we are caught up in the language and behaviour of “Who is the greatest?” what hope is there for true peace?
The great Mohammed Ali, used the phrase “I am the Greatest” not simply as a sign of personal vanity but as a profound challenge to the prejudices and bigotry of his own nation at a time when black people were very definitely second class citizens. Is it possible to use the language of dying and rising, becoming like a child, working with those outside of our group, beyond the pale, in a similar imaginative way?
The challenge to catechists, inquirers and catechumens is to allow the gospels of these weeks to find a deep home within and to resist the temptation to water down these radical sayings of Jesus and like the disciples to hide behind: “We don’t understand what he’s saying and we’re afraid to ask”. Or like the disciples in the Garden of Gethsemane to simply run away.
Surely! He can’t be serious?
Looking around
Like all those Walking the Rite Way in August the pace might be a little gentler. As in the parish accompanying those who are continuing their journey to Easter we won't stop and say switch off your 'faith button' nobody wants to know about faith in August. We will continue on the journey and maybe the slower pace will allow us to point out things we might otherwise have missed.
Why no one should join the RCIA
One of many things I enjoy about the Team RCIA blog is the ability to express clearly and succinctly some of the issues faced by RCIA teams - even when they may not be aware there might be an issue in the first place! I particularly enjoyed the recent posting Why no one should join the RCIA as it articulated something I have been aware of for a while use of the letters 'RCIA' as a kind of fairy dust that validates everything we might do.
One of the questions the Network Executive will be reflecting on at its September meeting will how do we present RCIA to the outside world. I am sure this article will help our discussion but we would also welcome local experience as well.
development matters!
One of the great achievements in ecumenism and liturgy has been the adoption of the Revised Common Lectionary by many non-Catholic denominations. A revision of our own Roman Lectionary which in particular reviewed how the Old Testament was used there is however far more in common between the two versions than there is different. One fruit of this is that most Sundays any church that uses a Lectionary will be hearing the same Gospel being proclaimed - a communion of the Word. Another fruit is the greater number of scripture resources that become available to us.
One I came across recently is on the website of the Anglican diocese of Bath and Wells - development matters! global issues linked to the lectionary. For every Sunday there is a note on the themes and ideas in the text, and then notes on contemporary parallels, comments and questions. The themes are linked within background notes, stories, invitations to action and prayer.
St Peter & St Paul — Sitting by the Beautiful Gate
Our neophytes are finding themselves increasingly ‘at home’ in the parish community, which is fantastic – life-giving for all. They have talked a lot about their Easter experiences over the last months, and the community have shared their lives in many simple, small ways. The heart-beat of the Word pulsing throughout the process of preparing these people for the sacraments, continues in other forms in the parish. And yes, the community continue to give ‘thoughtful and friendly help ‘ (RCIA 234)
However, once again the process of initiation has challenged us. Why am I surprised that the readings for the feast of Saints Peter and Paul raise more questions than answers? Yes, we have received into our community a number of people this year, but there are still so many people ‘sitting at the Beautiful Gate’ turning to us expectantly, and hoping to get something from us, and actually either we don’t notice them at all, or we are frightened of them because they are ‘different’, or we are too busy, or we don’t think the Church can support even a conversation with them, so we ignore them.
Perhaps for me the challenges are:
- Can we notice the people on the edge, and try and get into their shoes?
- If we ask them to ‘Look at us’ what do they see?!
- How can we engage their trust and confidence?
- If we say (with Peter) ‘I will give you what I have’, what exactly do we mean by that?
- When we hear the questions from Christ for ourselves: ‘Who do you say I am?’ and ‘Do you love me?’ and find ourselves saying with Peter ‘You are the Christ’ and ‘Yes, you know I do’, how do we avoid paying lip-service, and actively respond to Christ’s follow-up: well then, feed my lambs and look after and feed my sheep?
- And what about the Church in Acts - do we ‘pray to God unremittingly’ for one another, and for those in troubled circumstances?
- How can we make ourselves available, and be that liberating and healing presence? How do we show we care and not leave people with a sense of isolation and rejection?
Peter took the crippled man by the hand and helped him to stand up on his own two feet for the first time (and the man was jumping up and down and praising God! ) Can we dare to do this? I think so, yes, because, as Paul says in his letter to Timothy, the Lord will stand by us and give us the power – power to bind up the wounds of hostility, disparaging remarks, prejudice, and power to loosen the bonds of helplessness and hopelessness.
Solemn Blessing for the Feast of Saints Peter and Paul: You might like to pray this line by line, very slowly, allowing silence between phrases. How does it speak into your life?
The Lord has set you firm within his Church
which he built upon the rock of Peter’s faith.
May he bless you with a faith that never falters.
The Lord has given you knowledge of the faith
through the labours and preaching of Saint Paul.
May his example inspire you to lead others to Christ
by the manner of your life.
May the keys of Peter, and the words of Paul,
their undying witness and their prayers,
lead you to the joy of that eternal home
which Peter gained by his cross, and Paul by the sword.
The Power of Three
Solemnities abound at this time in the Liturgical Calendar: Ascension, Pentecost, Trinity Sunday, Corpus Christi and we can have a feeling of there being too much of a good thing! And so for the week in which we celebrate The Most Holy Trinity I offer a trinity of mini-reflections and accompanying images. May they bring blessing in some guise or other.
Firstly, the lectionary readings for the Solemnity.
The final part of the Deuteronomy reading is a gift for those newly initiated intent on ‘deepening their grasp of the paschal mystery and making it part of their lives’ [RCIA paragraph 244] as disciples rather than neophytes:
“So acknowledge today and take to heart that the Lord is God in heaven above and on the earth beneath; there is no other. Keep his statutes and his commandments which I am commanding you today for your own well-being and that of your descendents after you, so that you may long remain in the land that the Lord your God is giving you for all time.” [Deuteronomy 4: 39-40]
But then, very much in the mystagogical spirit of ensuring that the whole community be inspired and renewed by their experience of the sacraments [RCIA paragraph 246], we find within the gospel another gift: a reminder of the real purpose of all our membership and ministry:
“Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit”. [Matthew 28: 19]
Truly – the power of three!
Secondly, an extract from a current ‘best seller’.
Mack is the main character in The Shack [Wm Paul Young 2007, Hodder & Stoughton] and is beset by what becomes known as ‘The Great Sadness’ when his much loved daughter is abducted from their holiday tent and presumed murdered. He is called, supposedly by God, to make a journey to the shack believed to be the site of her murder. On arrival he encounters ‘the Trinity’:
“Thoughts tumbled over each other as Mack struggled to figure out what to do. Was one of these people God? What if they were hallucinations or angels, or God was coming later? That could be embarrassing. Since there were three of them, maybe this was a Trinity sort of thing. But two women and a man and none of them white? He knew his mind was rambling so he focused on the one question he most wanted answered.
“Then,” Mack struggled to ask, “which one of you is God?”
“I am” said all three in unison. Mack looked from one to the next, and even though he couldn’t begin to grasp what he was seeing and hearing, he somehow believed them. “
Through his encounter with these three beings, Mack’s life is transformed and his relationships broadened, deepened and renewed.
A very different power of three!
And finally, for RCIA team members.
A diocese in the North of England is planning an evening offered in four venues during the early summer. Called Reflect, Refresh, Renew they are offering a chance to engage in this trinity of catechetical activities. Each separate component represents an important dynamic in the life of catechists and RCIA teams. Developing as reflective practitioners will ensure their ministry remains grounded in the reality of their particular context and the needs of their enquirers and catechumens. Ongoing ministry over a number of months, and often years, becomes stale and lifeless without times of refreshment and inspiration. To renew implies review: openness to an honest appraisal of how things have gone, and whether the aims and processes articulated at the beginning of the journey have been met. This then enables a renewal of the vision and fresh heart for the journey. Put the three separate components together however and what is on offer has the potential to be much more powerful than the individual components: a different energy, a more complete process.
Indeed – a very different power of three!
LIFT
Well here we are in the middle of the easter season, and although our new catholics remain full of enthusiasm following their easter experience, and want to recount their feelings, they also have questions. They want to ask about the sacraments they have been initiated into, to explore their new status as members of the parish community, and revel in being one of the worldwide Church. Yet I often feel there is that sense of ‘what do we do now’ with our new Catholics?
So we have the final period of initiation: mystogogy ‘devoted to postbaptismal catechesis’ (RCIA 7.4) constantly reminding the whole church that what has just happened at the Easter vigil is an endless mystery that we are always trying to unravel. For those parishes who practice ‘ dismissal’ (RCIA 67), the candidates (and probably also catechumens) have been used to having the scriptures opened up for them when they retire to a place of their own, following the gospel each Sunday mass. The only ‘dismissal’ they encounter as fully initiated Catholics is that at the end of Mass when they are sent forth with the whole assembly to consider the Gospel.
The test is to build on the experience and practice of dismissal, or of the regular sessions arising from lectionary based catechesis, so that when RCIA meetings are no longer ‘a must’, our new catholics will have formed the habit of wanting to hear more of the Word of God: desirous of knowing Jesus more intimately and lovingly through a deepening understanding of the scriptures.
During the first half of the easter season we listen to many of the meal narratives in which Jesus reveals himself and teaches his disciples. On this 4th Sunday we heard how Peter filled with the Holy Spirit, was able to stand up to the Rulers of the synagogue; how John speaks of the love lavished on us as God’s children, and we hear the beloved parable of the Good Shepherd. Our new catholics are also called to go out into the world as disciples, but they like all of us, need continuing support from the community.
Here is an idea that can be used fruitfully during the mystagogy stage, but also answers Caroline’s question (blog 27.4.09) of ‘ How do we begin to integrate candidates and catechumens into the life of the community from the very start?’
Try Living In Faith Together
In small groups, enjoy a fellowship meal at each other’s homes. Not as formal as an RCIA session, nevertheless it involves dialogue, liturgy, and catechesis. Everything about the evening is about sharing – food, home, companionship and our faith, and that’s where the name LIFT comes from. It is important that the host does not provide any food, but that the guests bring it, so there is a real sense of sharing and of bringing the food to the home. It also reduces the pressure of being ‘host’. The evening starts with someone reading the forthcoming Sunday Gospel, followed by 2 minutes silence, then it is proclaimed by a different reader, followed by silence and a sharing of an image or word. Perhaps offer a commentary, or put it into context with the other lectionary texts. You can make it as simple or as detailed as those present require, so it is equally suitable for pre-inquiry and all stages of the catechumenate. A good session may start around the Bible and a candle, lasting half an hour before the group begin the meal and together, sit, eat and talk, starting with the gospel but wherever the discussion takes you.
Suggestions
- A gentle introduction is to say the Opening Prayer for the coming sunday,
- adapt the psalm as a prayer for enquirers,
- read the gospel once followed by silence but without inviting a response,
- A LIFT meal once a month can help extend the mystagogy period through to the anniversary of initiation,
- Have a Justice and Peace Meal,
- Include Ambrose’s sermon on the Baptismal garment (Yarnold, 1994, 2001, The Awe-Inspiring Rites Of Initiation, pp.129-30).
- Mystagogy: do refresh by reading RCIA #7.4 #244-251
What’s next
So the Day of Resurrection that took a week to celebrate draws to a close. Birthing pools for baptism by total immersion are put away; the Easter flowers are beginning to fade; congratulations cards are being filed away with smiles as the names of well-wishers known and unknown are read … there is a real sense that a stage in the journey is complete and, despite the promise of mystagogia for the rest of one’s life, there can begin to creep in a sense of anti-climax… a “what next?” True, there are some whose enthusiasm will stay on a high for some time – particularly if they are given opportunities to relive the experience of the Vigil – but even for them the story of Thomas in the Gospel of the Second Sunday of Easter can sow useful seeds for the future.
It is strange that of all the wonderful stories in the Gospel, this is one the very few that we hear every year – and always at the end of the Easter Octave. True, it is about appearances of the Risen Lord – but most of us will probably remember Doubting Thomas and his frustration at the “tall tales” his friends - previously seen as fairly sane if not always quick on the uptake - are telling him – and their frustration at his not being able to accept what they say. You can imagine the Aramaic equivalent of “oh you had to be there…” springing to their lips, particularly as at that stage, Jesus had given no indication as to whether this was a one-off appearance or was to become a regular occurrence. How do you convey the encounter with a man who was dead in ways that convince someone who wasn’t there when he turned up? Thomas’ (again Aramaic equivalent of) “Yeah… right…” is actually quite sensible under the circumstances.
Caravaggio's painting of Thomas and the Risen Jesus
But – and here’s the rub – isn’t that what we are doing in the RCIA – telling others of our own encounters with one who was dead and who is now risen? But we can’t see him and we don’t hear his voice and we can’t put our own fingers in his wounds (even if we could overcome our squeamishness to do it) and we haven’t smelt and tasted the bread and fish that he served up after the resurrection either.. As eye witnesses it doesn’t make us very good, does it? And yet – somehow we do it! Something in our joy at believing without seeing comes across and people are drawn in to learn more – though we have to admit that an awful lot more come into the “Yeah… right…” category.
So how can we help our newly-fledged Christians and Catholics as they prepare to take flight – to encounter those who will be bemused by their decision and perhaps even be hostile to it? And how do we prepare them for the moment when all the “specialness” begins to evaporate and new set of people are the catechumens – the Elect – and they are just part of a congregation? What about when even for them, faith begins to become niggling doubt – or the pulls of daily living in a frequently unsympathetic society take the edge off the joy they thought they would never forget?
Well, maybe we can look at Thomas – what made the difference for him? We know that Thomas was one of the apostles who said he would go with Jesus and die with him – but didn’t… Also he was the one who admitted he didn’t know where Jesus was going so how could he know the way? Like the other disciples, it would take the personal meeting with the Risen Jesus to make sense of the things he had said about dying and rising again.
That personal encounter…. that moment when the rest of the world falls away and Christ becomes all in all… So where was it for our neophytes? Where for our candidates? Was it in the Word – something that spoke so clearly that it changed their lives? Was it in the Body of Christ – the People of God? Or in a priest? Or, in that moment of receiving the Lord in Communion for the first time? When did they know with all the capacity of their being that this was true – and could say with Thomas, “My Lord and my God”?
Legend has it that Thomas left Jerusalem and took the Gospel to India. It is likely that there were times when he would have quite liked to have given up – and plenty of conversations with people who were not remotely interested in the Good News of the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. But that moment – the moment of meeting with Jesus and hearing his words “Doubt no longer but believe…” somehow kept him going.
So as we reflect with our new Catholics on the next stage of their journey, perhaps we can bring Thomas alongside as a guide. When he set forth from Jerusalem, he probably had no idea of the way he was going to follow – but he did know who his Way was – and his Truth – and his Life. And so do our new Catholics…
Thoughts to reflect on…
- What are the “soul-memories” of ways in which we have encountered Christ over months and years? How do we keep them alive and ready to strengthen us for the way ahead?
- When I look at the Host and Chalice elevated during the Eucharistic Prayer – and receive the Body and Blood of Christ, how can I develop a sense of this being my personal encounter with “My Lord and my God”?
A tale echoing across the centuries
A number of years ago I was on holiday on the 3rd Sunday of Lent in Venice. Venice was not too crowded and the light was bright and clear. It was sunny but you still needed a coat - holiday tips over.
At the end of Mass in Murano we were handed a prayer card. Today the new bishop of the diocese was to be installed in St Mark's basilica. Back in Venice going up the Grand Canal we were aware that groups from parishes we beginning to congregate on the canal side with posters and banners welcoming the new bishop. In the end we decided to hang around and see what was going to happen and eventually there was flotilla of boats and gondolas with trumpeters and attendants dressed in finery as the bishop approached his Cathedral. It was truly a spectacle but a thoroughly inculturated one too.
And the connection with RCIA?
Well the prayer card. The image on the front was the Jesus and the Woman at the Well. It was taken from the mosaics in St Mark's basilica - more inculturation. The story was told in two scenes - like two frames from a film - Jesus talking to the woman at the well and then the woman proclaiming the good news. Firstly it was a reminder that on that Sunday the Church across the world was feasting at the Table of the Word on this story - it is a sign of our communion, what we hold in common. Also it was a reminder for me that this is a story that has been retold across the centuries. The stories which are illustrated in mosaics, a slow laborious process, are the stories which a community held to be important.
In the renewal of the Lectionary following the Second Vatican Council the story of the Woman at the well was restored to the 3rd Sunday of Lent, and the Man born blind and the raising of Lazarus on the subsequent Sundays. Great importance is placed on these stories. Even where there are no elect to be initiated at Easter these readings from Year A may always be read. Where they are not read on the Sunday the Lectionary encourages that they are heard at Mass at some point in the following week. Where there are Elect, and so the Scrutinies are being celebrated, these readings are used whatever year it is in the Lectionary.
It is worth emphasising that there are few other Sundays where the choice of Gospel is so singular.
The importance of these stories is in part a sign that Initiation is that important - It's unavoidable. It is also a reminder of the richness of these stories.
- If you were to choose two snapshots from these Gospels what would they be?
- What caption would you give them?
In reflecting on the mosaic in St Mark's I was struck that this was an unequivocal example of a woman being the first to proclaim and preach the good news in a particular place.
The Word we proclaim is never just a 'once upon a time' tale. It is always being fulfilled in our hearing but perhaps the best chance for these readings to be fulfilled is where there are elect - people waiting for baptism. When this happens we may begin to realise that we can never hear enough of this good news. We sometimes speak of RCIA being normative but the truth is that it is evangelising and initiating adults which is normative of being Church.
The mosaic can be found on the website of St Mark's Basilica --> follow the link to [The Stories of Christ]. It is not possible to copy the image from the site.