Reconnecting with the church in baby steps

Son’s Sunday schedule looks like his parents’ once did

Finding use in words penned centuries ago has led many of us —myself included — away from standard Sunday worship into a maze of books, seminars, personal time, and just plain "what does it all mean?"

This past month proved two very important Biblical references, and I paraphrase:

1. Actions speak louder than words 2. The children will lead us. When I was confirmed as an adult, spending Sundays at mass was a joy. Even as we filled our pew with mewling babies and flying Cheerios, I knew I had found my spiritual home. Then one by one, with every scandal and unyielding rule, the lights winked out and mass for me became a chilling place.

There was no person or thing to blame; over time, I realized my issues were within and with Rome. My family and parish, caught in the crossfire, hung in as those who love you do, giving space and acceptance while I spent yet another Sunday morning staring at the ceiling willing the lump in my stomach to go away.

It is particularly difficult this time of year, with the turning leaves signaling a fresh year of catechism. For years I taught Grades 5 through 8, a time that still resonates fondly.

As it turns out, that small investment in the next generation is returning a hundred fold.

My son began catechism as my infant helper, received First Communion at age four and wore a smile wider than the aisle when he served his first mass at age five. But by age 10, he had outgrown the children’s program; thus began his drift, and mine.

Two years ago, a welcoming choir director re-engaged him through his love of music and a few weeks ago, when our phone rang in a search for new catechists, he answered the call.

Last week, at age 15, he taught his first class, using the same Grade 6 book I had, but with a youthful optimism only a teen can provide. He is among several teen catechists in our parish this year.

These days, my son’s Sunday schedule looks like his parents’ once did: week preparing for class, Sunday mass at 9 a.m., scoot across the parking lot to class for as close to 10 a.m. as Father’s homily allows, home for a well-earned brunch at 11.

Meanwhile, I’m reconnecting in baby steps through weekday masses and behind-the-scenes coaching on what worked ‘in the olden days’ of catechism. One family, one church, different paths.

The searching continues, but we have two homes in which to grow: our family and our parish. Both ancient traditions, made relevant today through the actions of engaging individuals and the leadership of our youth.