The Woman at the Well

The first time I ever baptized a baby happened when I was still a seminarian. I was serving as a chaplain in Iowa Methodist Medical Center in Des Moines and was informed that a woman was going to be giving birth to a baby that would be extremely hydrocephalic. In other words, he would have water on the brain. I was even told that this little boy would be born with a lot of water and not a lot of brain. The situation was uncertain. He could come out stillborn. He could only live for a few moments. Or he could live for several days. I prepared myself for the worst and hoped for the best. When I arrived at the bedside of the woman, she had already given birth to her baby, little Malachi, and we went about baptizing the perfect appearing little man. As I performed this brand new ritual that is so different when you are actually doing it instead of having it done, I kept thinking that there are a million things that this mother could be doing with her child. She could be holding him and telling him how much he means to her. She could be inviting family and friends to see him. She could even have invited her children to see their little brother. But, instead, she wanted to be sure that he got baptized. She wanted to be sure that, despite everything that this little guy had going against him, she had the chance to pass on the faith that leads to eternal life to him just as she had done for his brother and sisters before.
I think of this story often as I more regularly baptize babies nowadays. In that circumstance, I did it in a case of emergency. Nowadays, I do it in the ideal circumstances. And, yet, there is a question that arises each time I baptize a baby. Why is it that this couple wants to do it? Why is it that the movement to “Let the child choose their own religion” never caught on in this country. Is it just because we are a people who stubbornly hold on to certain traditions? Is it just because grandmothers put their foot down about it? I think there’s something very profound that takes place in a baptism that is also taking place in the gospel.
Jesus’ encounter with this woman at this well is not all that astonishing. It’s a public well, after all. In order to get water in this town, you must go to this well. But, it would have been unheard of for a Jew to use a dirty Samaritan’s utensils to get the water. Samaritans were kind of “half-Jews”. They believed in the first five books of the Bible but then left off the Prophets and other writings. Plus, despite if their acknowledgement of those first five books, they weren’t all that observant of the rules present in them. They kind of did their own thing when it came to their faith. So, it made no sense for Jesus to ask water from this woman who was just as unclean as her religion. The only reason he does so is to help her to see her own thirs.
The Samaritan woman has had six husbands and is living with a seventh man who is not even her husband. She’s amazed that Jesus can see this in her. I imagine that this situation has been a roadblock to faith for her. Often, that’s what happens when we have a traumatic event happen to us, we lose our faith or find it difficult to grow in our relationship to God. We don’t know how this woman has had all these husbands: maybe they all died, maybe they all left her, maybe she left them. We simply do not know. What we do know is that Jesus is still going to call her to deeper faith by helping her get over the chasm she feels by her marital situation. He helps her realize that the differences between them don’t mean that God loves her less. It simply means that she must return to an even greater faith. Only when she returns in faith to her loving God can she, in turn, help others to faith.
We are all called to be disciples. We are, likewise, in different situations of life and different familiarity to God, our loving father. Yet, all of us, not just priests and nuns, are given the vocation to give people the living water of faith. This doesn’t mean that we are all called to baptize. Most of the time, it just means that we live our life as though out faith matters, as though the baptism that we received was an event that set us on track to eternal life. But, first, we must get rid of all of that stuff that prevents us from living our lives of faith. We must, like the woman in the story, come before an actual living person and confess our sins in order to be put right with God. It might be a priest instead of Jesus Christ himself but he will, nonetheless, help you once again to worship the Lord in Spirit and truth, just like Jesus did for this Samaritan woman. Be not afraid but, instead, return to the same God who put faith in our hearts at baptism.

Catechism part two

The worst thing about starting this series on the catechism is that I don't know when it will end. I hope to make this a companion to my series of sessions that I will be doing on Sunday nights. But, I also want to keep letting you all know about my life in the interim. But, with that said, here's a brief introduction to the Catechism of the Catholic Church.
Catechisms rose to prominence during the time of the Protestant reformation. The largest single reason for this is the printing press. Prior to its invention, the primary means of communications was the spoken word. So, there are several "catecheses" from the early church until the protestant reformation that would have been spoken to newly initiated members of the church. Martin Luther was the first to use a question and answer form of catechism in educating people. The Council of Trent followed Luther with a catechism of its own, written largely by the brilliant theologian St. Charles Borromeo. This catechism was the basis for teaching priests from the fifteen hundreds until the second Vatican Council. It was different that Luther's catechism, however, in that it was prose without question. One person I've read referred to it as a series of answers without questions. After the council of Trent, a series of local catechisms that were particular to a region or country were written by scholars in an attempt to translate some of the teachings of the church into language the "common man" could understand. Two of these are particularly worth nothing: "The Sincere Christian" by Bishop George hay of Edinburgh, Scotland and The Catechism of the Synod of Maynooth by Bishop James Butler of Cashel, Ireland. These two documents were largely the basis for the Baltimore Catechism, a question and answer catechism that was the basis for Christian education during the first three quarters of the twentieth century. Some of you will remember answering such questions as "Who made the world?" Answer: God made the world. And so on.
By the time of the second Vatican Council, an update to the Catechism of the Council of Trent seemed to be important. However, the people present seemed less concerned about that than providing some guidelines for catechesis. However, a minority of bishop's, led by the cardinal archbishop of Krakow, Poland (who would later become Pope John Paul II). The General Catechecal Directory was released in 1971 and translated into English in 1978. Between 1971 and 1985, a series of bishop's meetings took place that seemed to show that catechesis in particular countries was still difficult. So, at a 1985 bishop's meeting, Bernard Cardinal Law (before he was simply known as the bishop that couldn't deal with sexually abusive priests) stated "I propose a commission of cardinals to prepare a draft of a conciliar catechism to be promulgated by the Holy Father after consulting the bishops of the world." Seven years, nine drafts, and two different committees later, the Pope was pleased to release the Catechism of the Catholic Church. This document, similar to the Catechism of the Council of Trent, is a prose document that is a sure norm for the faith. It's not all the highest (dogmatic) level of teaching in the church but it has all been supremely researched. In fact, after it was finished, a revision was almost immediately called for so that a new 1997 copy was made. Okay, that's enough for now. I'll get onto the Pope's statement about it and the prologue next time. Have a great day. Feel free to write and ask questions.

Catechism part one

A priest is not just a priest. That might sound contradictory but it's true. When a priest is ordained, he is to be a three things; priest, prophet and king. These three terms in a special way summarize what it means to share in the bishop's apostolic priesthood. Most of the time when you think of a priest, you think of that guy that says mass. That's understandable, since we tend to interact with most people at the holy celebration of the mass. But we are also to be leaders (king) and prophets. An associate, most often, is freed from the responsibilities of leadership in order to fully develop prophetic (teaching) ministry. Unfortunately, with a priesthood shortage, we often end up quickly neglecting the role of priestly leader and taking up the kingly role very quickly. This happened with a friend of mine. He was assigned to a parish and quickly discovered that he was going to be responsible for closing down one of the parishes. He's walked with the parishioners and patiently explained things but, I'm sure, all along he has thought to himself that this isn't what an associate pastor is supposed to do. I've been fortunately lately. I've been able to stay out of the administration, somewhat, and focus a little on my prophetic role. Last Wednesday, I spoke to the parents of the first communion children about the Eucharist and its role in the church. I held a few sessions about the various ministries associated with the Eucharist for the parishioners in Dubuque. And, most exciting, I've begun a series of sessions on the Catechism of the Catholic Church. I hope, beginning tomorrow, to spend a few lines writing on the catechism's teaching a couple of times a week. I'm sure it won't be boring but, if you do read this, feel free to send me comment about a question that you'd like me to address. God's blessings.