THINGS OLD AND NEW
By Ruth Powers

Now that the summer break is a little more than halfway over, parents and students begin to turn their attention to the start of the next school year. Although this topic may seem more suited to the celebration of Catholic Schools Week in January, as we look toward the start of the new school year it may be beneficial to take a look at the history of Catholic schools in our country and the role they played in transmitting the faith to our children. My own family has benefitted as we have had our faith shaped by Cathedral School in Natchez for six generations (my grandchildren being the sixth.)

Catholic education in what would become the future United States began with Franciscan friars establishing schools in Spanish territories in the 1500s, educating both Indigenous people and Spanish settlers. The French later established schools along the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers. Notably, the Ursuline Academy in New Orleans, founded in 1727, which is still in operation today.

In English colonized areas, however, there was a different story. Although the original Puritan settlers came looking for religious freedom, they did not practice religious toleration. Their strict Calvinists beliefs led to hostility towards Catholics, influencing attitudes across the original colonies, especially in New England and the Northeast. Maryland, initially a haven for persecuted Catholics, was overtaken by Calvinist rebels in 1689, leading to the outlawing of Catholicism.

After the Revolutionary War religious toleration became much more widespread in law, allowing Catholics to again freely worship without fear of persecution, but social attitudes remained staunchly anti-Catholic in many places. Into this situation stepped St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, an Episcopalian convert to Catholicism, who is credited with founding the U.S. Catholic School system. Seton was approached by a priest of the Sulpician order to come to Maryland and start a school for Catholic girls, which she did in 1810. She also gathered a number of women around her and founded the Daughters of Charity. Members of this religious order travelled around the United States and founded Catholic Schools in areas where there were concentrations of Catholics.

From the 1820s through the 1850s Catholic immigration from Ireland and Germany dramatically increased, sparking a rise in anti-Catholic sentiment. This era saw the formation of the “Know-Nothings,” a political party aimed at halting Catholic immigration and eradicating Catholic influence in the United States. To achieve this, the public school system, where most immigrant children were educated due to the scarcity of Catholic schools, became a battleground. Horace Mann, the system’s advocate, staunchly opposed institutional religion, particularly Catholicism. The idea was for the Protestant teachers to use Protestant prayers, hymns, and study of the Protestant Bible to indoctrinate Catholic children against the teachings of the Catholic Church.

In response to the Know-Nothing movement and the violence it engendered, a series of Councils were held in Baltimore, Maryland in 1852, 1866 and 1884. The second and third of these councils were instrumental in the development of the system of parish-based Catholic schools that many of us grew up with. The Second Council called for the erection of parochial schools in every Catholic parish, and Catholic teachers working in public schools should be employed in Catholic parish schools wherever possible. Catechism classes were to be provided for students who couldn’t afford to attend the parish school. The Third Plenary Council went even further. It called for the establishment of Catholic high schools and addressed parents as well. It stated, “we not only exhort Catholic parents … but we command the with all the authority in our power, to procure a truly Christian education for their dear offspring … (and) send them to Catholic … schools,” unless they otherwise obtained permission from their local bishop.

Parochial schools grew exponentially after this, due in large part to the work of women religious who were willing to staff them for very little in the way of salary or benefits. Catholic schools continued to flourish, and the next waves of immigrants in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century (Italians) and after WWI (Poles and other Eastern Europeans) found schools ready not only to help their children learn academics, but also to enculturate into American society without giving up their Catholic faith.

Parochial schools thrived until the early 1960’s, but declining numbers of religious vocations necessitated hiring lay teachers, coupled with rising operational costs, leading to the closure of numerous Catholic schools in recent years. Increased tuition has further restricted access for many families, resulting in a significant resurgence of Catholic students in public schools, marking a pivotal moment in the landscape of U.S. education.

Currently, there is a move to once again integrate religious chaplains and required bible study into public school classrooms. Catholic parents need to look back at what happened in the nineteenth century and ask some hard questions – what will these chaplains do, which Bible will be taught, and who will be doing the teaching to make sure there is not another attempt to indoctrinate our children.

(Ruth Powers is the program coordinator for the Basilica of St. Mary in Natchez.)

AMID THE FRAY
By Greg Erlandson

I must have skipped the chapter in my “how to parent” instruction manual where it talked about weddings. Not my wedding, of course, but all the weddings of my kids, the friends of my kids and the kids of my friends.

For me, the year 2024 is turning into a banner year for nuptials, including the wedding of one of my sons. Yet we have been invited to at least five other weddings this year as well. We are swamped by the logistics of attending. We get save-the-date cards with a photo, then the actual wedding invitations. We negotiate wedding websites to R.S.V.P. and send gifts. In case you didn’t know, department store gift registries are now as old fashioned as department stores. It is far busier for some of our children, who have even more weddings to attend, bridesmaid dresses to buy, bachelor parties to throw, and travel and hotel expenses to cover.

I can’t complain, however. My wife and I are cheered by this nuptial rush, for the statistics about young people getting married have been falling for years. Marriage has been in something approaching freefall since the 1960s. Catholic marriage rates have been dropping precipitously as well.

Some of this freefall is due to a rampant distrust of institutions that harkens back to Mae West (“Marriage is a great institution, but I’m not ready for an institution yet”). Some of it reflects a distrust of the church itself. Some of it is cautiousness about commitment in an era of divorce. And some of it is the result of a crisis in dating.

We are hearing far too many stories of young men and young women (and some not-so-young men and women) who want marriage but are not finding suitable partners. Even worse are the stories of young men and women who don’t know how, or are afraid, to ask someone out on a date. Colleges are even offering dating instruction courses, for which there appears to be a real need. Young men tell me they are afraid that any expression of interest may be interpreted as harassment, and young women tell me of men who seem to be mired in perpetual adolescence.

And for parents who worry about their single children, it is usually made absolutely clear to them that they are not allowed to play matchmaker. Meanwhile, their (quite wonderful) children wait and wait for lightning to strike. But I digress.

What I want to tell all the couples that are getting married this year is that they should not focus on the wedding day. It is just one day, after all. It is not worth going into debt for or causing all your friends to go into debt for. The destination, the trappings, the dress – these are all irrelevant when compared to what this day signifies the start of: a shared life together.

After 41 years of marriage, I can testify that (a) marriage is great, (b) marriage does take work (on oneself), and (c) all the effort is worth it.

For Catholics, the challenge and the joy of “becoming one flesh” is that the couple is committing to helping each other become more like Jesus, that is to grow in life-giving and generous love. That is why we get married, why we hope to have children, why we make a lifelong commitment. Marriage is an ongoing seminar in selflessness. It’s not always easy. We even fail at times. But after 41 years of marriage, I can testify that the rewards are greater than anything those young couples can imagine right now.

(Greg Erlandson is an award-winning Catholic publisher, editor and journalist whose column appears monthly at OSV News.)

IN EXILE
By Father Ron Rolheiser, OMI

Prayer is most needed just when it seems most useless. Michael J. Buckley, one of the major spiritual mentors in my life, wrote those words. What does he mean by them?

In the face of so many problems we can get the feeling that praying about them is useless. For example, in the face of the discouragement and helplessness we feel before some of the mega problems in our world, it is easy to feel that praying about them is useless. What will my prayer do vis-à-vis the wars raging in different parts of the world? What’s the value of my prayer in the face of injustice, famine, racism and sexism? What will my prayer do vis-à-vis the divisions and hatred now dividing our communities? It is easy to feel that praying about these situations is useless.

The same holds true about how we often feel about the value of prayer when serious illnesses beset us. Will prayer bring about a cure for someone with terminal cancer? Do we really expect a miraculous cure? Mostly, we don’t, but we continue to pray despite the feeling that our prayer won’t in fact change the situation. Why?

Why pray when it seems useless to do so? Theologians and spiritual writers have given us various perspectives on this which are helpful, though not adequate. Prayer, they say, is not meant to change the mind of God, but to change the mind of the person who is praying. We don’t pray to put God on our side; we pray to put ourselves on God’s side. As well, we have been taught that the reason it might seem that God doesn’t answer our prayers is that God, like a loving parent, knows what is good for us and answers our prayers by giving us what we really need rather than what we naively want. C.S. Lewis once said that we will spend a lot of time in eternity thanking God for those prayers that God didn’t answer.

All of this is true and important. God’s ways are not our ways. Faith asks us to give God the space and time to be God, without having to conform to our very limited expectations and habitual impatience. We can indeed be grateful that God doesn’t answer many of our prayers according to our expectations.

But still, still … when Jesus invited us to pray, he didn’t do so with a caveat: but you need to ask for the right things if you expect me to answer your prayer. No, he simply said: Ask and you will receive. He also said that some demons are only cast out by prayer and fasting.

So, how might the demons of violence, division, hatred, war, hunger, global warming, famine, racism, sexism, cancer, heart disease and the like be cast out by prayer? How is prayer useful in any practical way in the face of these issues?

In brief, prayer doesn’t just change the person who is praying, it also changes the situation. When you pray you are in fact part of the situation about which you are praying. Sincere prayer helps you become the change you are praying to bring about. For example, praying for peace helps you to calm your own heart and bring a more peaceful heart into the world.

While this is true, there is also a deeper reality at play. More deeply, when we pray there is something happening that goes beyond how we normally imagine the simple interplay between cause and effect. By changing ourselves we are changing the situation; yes, but in a deeper way than we normally imagine.

As Christians, we believe that we are part of a body, the Body of Christ, and that our union there with each other is more than some idealized corporate community. Rather, we are part of a living organism in which every part affects every other part, just as in a physical body. Because of this, for us, there is no such a thing as a private act – good or bad. I hesitate to suggest that this is analogous to the immune system inside the human body because this is more than an analogy. It’s real, organic. Just as in a human body there is an immune system which protects the health of the overall body by killing off cells and viruses that are endangering its health, so too inside the Body of Christ. At all times, we are either healthy cells bringing strength to the immune system inside the Body of Christ or we are a virus or cancerous cell threatening its health. Praying about an issue makes a difference because it helps strengthen the immune system inside the Body of Christ – precisely as it is dealing with the issue about which we are praying.

While on the surface prayer can sometimes feel useless, it is doing something vital underneath – something most needed precisely when we feel that our prayer is useless.

(Oblate Father Ron Rolheiser is a theologian, teacher and award-winning author. He can be contacted through his website www.ronrolheiser.com.)

KNEADING FAITH
By Fran Lavelle
I have spent the past year working closely with the Pastoral Reimagining Process for the diocese. Each phase of the process opened up opportunities for lay leaders to contribute to the conversation including their own wisdom and best practices as well as personal struggles.

One common comment that was shared was the difficulty in getting people to volunteer for ministry opportunities at the parishes. Perhaps it is part of the rebuilding after the pandemic or something more systemic, but many leaders noted that they are struggling to maintain a volunteer pool for catechesis as well as other ministries.

Volunteerism across the board is in decline in other denominations as well as civic and service organizations. The percentage of the U.S. population that volunteers on an average day has declined by 28% in the past decade, according to data from the Bureau of Labor Statistics. Studies suggest many attributing factors such as aging workers working past traditional retirement age. Whatever the cause, the effect is hurting the church’s ability to fulfill Catechetical and formation, as well as other volunteer opportunities at the local level.

We are charged with reimagining how to engage the people in the pews to want to give of their time and talent to our faith communities. One of the best ways to increase interest in giving back to the parish or community is to celebrate the people who are serving in voluntary ministry positions. It might sound silly or perhaps even a bit contrived, but we need to carve out times within the year to highlight the efforts of the lay people who are serving in ministry. And we need to celebrate everyone!

Celebrating everyone can be as simple as having a donut reception after Mass to recognize lay leaders and volunteers or creating a space in your bulletin to highlight the work of your parish’s volunteers. It is also helpful to share success with the community. A Flocknote or bulletin to everyone about the progress of a project or highlights of what the young people in religious education are doing creates opportunities for connection. Cross pollinate ministry opportunities like bringing different parish groups together for fun activities like doing a supply drive for the local animal shelter in conjunction with the feast day of St. Francis of Assisi and the blessing of the animals. People love to give, especially when they see the collective impact of the whole parish. Above all – make it fun! There is nothing worse than people coming to an event to volunteer and the day feels like drudgery. Faith and works can also include fun.

You may have been at a parish where one person or one group does everything. On its face it looks great. Things are being “taken care of.” But are they? One person or one group cannot do everything and if they do how well is it being done? When a parish does a time and talent survey but never calls the people who volunteered to help with specific ministries, we not only lose out on a volunteer, but we lose out on the gifts of those individuals could have shared with our parish family.

One simple idea to help your parish increase the pool of doers is to name a volunteer coordinator for the parish. They would work closely with the pastor, parish staff, ministry leaders to keep their finger on the pulse of what activities are happening at the parish. They would be able to recruit volunteers long in advance of the event. A Flocknote or bulletin announcement of upcoming events and an easy way for people to express interest would help streamline the process. At the end of the day it is about getting everyone involved with passing on the rich story of our faith. Many hands make light work.

Taking a note from my own advice, I want to thank all of the lay leaders, catechists and other volunteers that contributed to all of the formation ministries at our parishes this year. Keep your eye on the prize as you continue to animate the Good News. The fruits of your labor are evident in the young people we encounter at diocesan events and in everyday people we meet in our parishes. Keep doing your very best. We see you!

(Fran Lavelle is the Director of Faith Formation for the Diocese of Jackson.)

By Lucia A. Silecchia

“If you become a teacher, by your pupils you’ll be taught.” So goes a line from the prelude to “Getting to Know You,” one of the songs that punctuates the classic musical “The King and I.”

After many years as a teacher, I can vouch for the truth of this observation. I am particularly reminded of it during this time of year. Invariably, as I watch my students prepare for final examinations, they teach me much about how we should and could be companions to each other on our journeys through this life.

Anyone who has been to school will remember final exam season as a time in the semester that is fraught with work, worry and the desire to perform well on the examinations that will determine course grades. (Students may not realize that this season can also be one of equal stress for their teachers!)

Each semester, I am pleasantly surprised when I see my students navigating this season together. I see them working together in study groups, coming to my office hours with friends, and lingering after class to continue discussing the material we covered amongst themselves or with me. When I meet with them on Zoom, there are sometimes two, three or four on the screen, bringing to me their debates and their questions – or asking me to resolve a friendly dispute they have had about the correct resolution to a problem. I see them gathered around tables in our student lounge or our courtyard deep in discussion and notice that they share their notes with each other when one seems to grasp some of the material better than his or her peers.

In one sense, this is not what many would assume to be rational behavior. After all, there is a temptation to don blinders during the final weeks of the semester and focus solely on individual preparation for the exams that lie ahead. It can be tempting not to “waste” time helping others in the hope that all will cross the finish line together. To cynics, it might even seem counterintuitive to share wisdom or understanding with others out of fear that this will propel them to outperform the one who first shared that wisdom.

Yet, each semester I see my students traveling this final stretch of the semester together, and I am both proud of and grateful to them.

I am proud of them because they have not let the stress of exam season distract them from the opportunities they have to be of help to each other, to support each other, and to share the highs and lows of their common adventure.

I am also deeply grateful to them because the way they treat each other during exam season teaches me something about living the Christian life.

As human beings made in the image and likeness of God, we are made to live in community with each other and to share our lives with those entrusted to us and to whom we have been entrusted. We are not made to travel through this life to the next life alone. Rather, we are called to a faith that we do not keep to ourselves, but that we share freely with others.

 We are called to help each other through the seasons of doubt and to rejoice with each other in the seasons of fulfilment. We are called to wrestle with the challenging questions of life together and help each other bear the burdens of difficult times. We are called to share freely “the reason for our hope” with those who ache to hear it. We are called to pray alone, but also to gather with our parish families, our friends and family, and even strangers to pray as a community.

My students show me this. In the mundane ways they walk together through exam season, they show me a glimpse of the more glorious way we are to walk together through this life and enter the next one in the company of each other. They show me what it means to be companions for the journey through ordinary time.

(Lucia A. Silecchia is Professor of Law and Associate Dean for Faculty Research at the Catholic University of America’s Columbus School of Law. “On Ordinary Times” is a biweekly column reflecting on the ways to find the sacred in the simple. Email her at silecchia@cua.edu.)

FROM THE HERMITAGE
By sister alies therese

You might remember that I am fond of desert monastics for both inspiration and correction. Having recently left the hospital and rehab after five long months, I’m back home hoping to share with you a little nourishment.

There are all sorts of deserts that these stories might be applied to and hospitals, nursing homes, rehab, jails are among a few. Don’t forget the homebound.

Desert monastic stories might be ‘true’ or not … in any case, the messages they bring are well worth at least devotional reading. Let’s consider two for ‘correction’ and one for inspiration.

“Abba Zosimas used to say: Take away the thoughts and no one can become holy. One who avoids the beneficial temptations is avoiding eternal life. It is like I always say: inasmuch as God is good, God has given us to profit from everything. However, we become attached and misuse God’s gifts, and so we turn these very same good gifts to destruction through our evil choice and are therefore harmed.”

I learned a lot from being so sick and I offer this reflection for those of our readers who are. Even when you are sick you can profit. Even when you have lost a good deal of control over your life, you can still profit. Bitter or better? You still choose. So, when opportunities come our way to be strengthened by adversity … let’s choose God for profit. This is often worked out by how one interacts with nurses, doctors and staff. Learning to listen beyond what we think is a real challenge. Learning to give up, give in and trust strengthens our resolve to love God alone.

What we value is often brought out when we are ill or restrained. I thought many times about how fortunate I was to be where I was (five hospitals and rehab). Would I die? Would I live? Who knew? Many medics were sure of the former (a scary time), but I kept trying to choose the latter.

Mentally I was stretched so my values got mixed up. Maybe I lost my temper, got angry? Or maybe I didn’t eat or I ate everything I could find? Our values come into bright relief when we are not in charge. Would seem that the things we have identify those values … but really it is who we are (in Jesus) that says a whole lot more.

“An old man said: If you have lost gold or silver, you can find something in place of what you lost. However, if you lose time you cannot replace what you lost.” Can we profit then from everything God sends … even those things we are sure are so important? What do we value? What do we share? What do we learn from difficulties?

Finally, I love a story about judgment and how we treat each other. I saw more than I would have liked of people left behind, uncaring professionals, and wrestling with my foibles. Judging others or ourselves is a slippery slope and one who has come to love God has learned this truth.

“Some old men came to Abba Poemen and said: Tell us, when we see brothers/sisters dozing during the sacred office, should we pinch them so they will stay awake? The old man said to them, ‘Actually if I saw a brother sleeping, I would put his head on my knees and let him rest.’”

I can be quick to judge what is right or wrong in any given situation and often I am completely off base. The tenderness of this story reminds me that we are flesh, and we are bound to fail, be weak and give in to ourselves. But here is a brother who understands this well and holds in his hands, as God does with us, the very flesh that this youngest or elder seems to be withholding. Oh no, God gives to His beloved in sleep the Psalmist reminds us and the beauty of this act reminds me to treat others and myself as God would have it. It is the heart of course that makes our awesome God smile and that is a treasure we can never lose and can always profit from. At the core of this heart, we develop that love that loved us first.
Maybe this anonymous little poem helps when we try to explain how great that love is. In A Nonny Mouse Writes Again we hear: “I know you little, I love you lots, my love for you would fill ten pots, fifteen buckets, sixteen cans, three teacups and four dishpans.”

What we learn to profit from will fill all that is around us and we become willing and able to put that love everywhere. So, when you encounter someone ill or left behind, offer them your hands and your knees, and let them rest. And when fear overcomes you, remember that love drives it out. The Russian author Ivan Turgenev in The Sparrow reminds us: “Love, I felt, more than ever, is stronger than death and the fear of death.” Rest, trusting that you are loved and cherished … and pass it on!

(Sister alies therese is a canonically vowed hermit with days formed around prayer and writing.)

IN EXILE
By Father Ron Rolheiser, OMI
Our own complexity can be befuddling. We are better than we think and worse than we imagine, too hard and too easy on ourselves all at the same time. We are a curious mix.

On the one hand, we are good. All of us are made in the image and likeness of God and are, as Aristotle and Aquinas affirm, metaphysically good. That’s true, but our goodness is also less abstract. We are good too, at least most of the time, in our everyday lives.

Generally, we are generous, often to a fault. Despite appearances sometimes, mostly we are warm and hospitable. The same is true in terms of the basic intent in both our minds and our hearts. We have big hearts. Inside everyone, easily triggered by the slightest touch of love or affirmation, lies a big heart, a grand soul, a magna anima, that’s itching to be altruistic. Mostly the problem isn’t with our goodness, but with our frustration in trying to live that out in the world. Too often we appear cold and self-centered when we’re only frustrated, hurt and wounded.
We don’t always appear to be good, but mostly we are; though often we are frustrated because we cannot (for reasons of circumstance, wound and sensitivity) pour out our goodness as we would like, nor embrace the world and those around us with the warmth that’s in us. We go through life looking for a warm place to show who we are and often don’t find it. We’re not so much bad as frustrated. We’re more loving than we imagine.

But that’s half of it, there’s another side: we’re also sinners, more so than we think. An old Protestant dictum about human nature, based on St. Paul, puts it accurately: “It’s not a question of are you a sinner? It’s only a question of what is your sin?” We’re all sinners, and just as we possess a big heart and a grand soul, we also possess a petty one (a pusilla anima). At the very roots of our instinctual make-up, there’s selfishness, jealousy, and pettiness of heart and mind.

Moreover, we are often blind to our real faults. As Jesus says, we easily see the speck on our neighbor’s eye and miss the plank in our own. And that generally makes for a strange irony, that is, where we think we are sinners is usually not the place where others struggle the most with us or where our real faults lie. Conversely, it’s in those areas where we think we are virtuous and righteous that often our real sin lies and where others struggle with us.

For example, we’ve have forever put a lot of emphasis on the sixth commandment and haven’t been nearly as self-scrutinizing in regard to the fifth commandment (which deals with bitterness, judgments, anger and hatred) or with the ninth and tenth commandments (that have to do with jealousy). It’s not that sexual ethics are unimportant, but our failures here are harder to rationalize. The same isn’t true for bitterness, anger, especially righteous anger, nor for jealousy. We can more easily rationalize these and not notice that jealousy is the only sin for which God felt it necessary to write two commandments. We are worse than we imagine and mostly blind to our real faults.

So where does that leave us? In better and worse shape than we think. If we could recognize that we’re more lovely than we imagine and more sinful than we suppose, that could be helpful both for our self-understanding and for how we understand God’s love and grace in our lives.

Aristotle says, “two contraries cannot co-exist within the same subject.” He’s right metaphysically, but two contraries can (and do) exist inside of us morally. We’re both good and bad, generous and selfish, big-hearted and petty, gracious and bitter, forgiving and resentful, hospitable and cold, full of grace and full of sin, all at the same time. Moreover, we’re generally too blind to both, too unaware of our loveliness as well as of our nastiness.

To recognize this can be humbling and freeing. We are loved sinners. Both goodness and sin make up our identity. Not to recognize this truth leaves us either unhealthily depressed or dangerously inflated, too hard or too easy on ourselves. The truth will set us free, and the truth about ourselves is that we’re both better and worse than we picture ourselves to be.

Robert Funk once formulated three dictums on grace which speak to this. He writes:

• Grace always wounds from behind, at the point where we think we are least vulnerable.
• Grace is harder than we think: we moralize judgment in order to take the edge off it.
• Grace is more indulgent than we think: but it is never indulgent at the point where we think it might be indulgent.
  We need to be both easier and harder on ourselves – and open to the way grace works.

(Oblate Father Ron Rolheiser is a theologian, teacher and award-winning author. He can be contacted through his website www.ronrolheiser.com.)