This week I’m answering these questions:

• Are you comfortable talking with others about your relationship with God?

• Would you say that you’re a “normal” Catholic using the criteria outlined above? (See post here.)
• Or are you a “typical” Catholic, fighting that feeling that interest in the faith is only for a few pious eccentrics?

• Do you personally have, within your parish, a group of Catholics you meet with regularly, to discuss the faith, study the faith, and encourage each other to greater virtue?

#1. Here’s the funny thing about this: No, not really comfortable.  I’m very comfortable talking theology or sacraments or apologetics, or you-name-it academic topic that has to do with God.  And I’m pretty good at general principles of the Christian life  — anything I’ve thoroughly digested and can step back from.  But if it gets personal . . . it’s personal.  My relationship with God is the #1 most important thing in my life, ever, and it’s also the most intimate and honest relationship I’ve got (at least from His end — I’m working on it from my end).  So: Not something I want to just throw out there for the whole world.  Hence my pure unadulterated hatred of “sharing questions”.  Don’t wanna answer them.  Just.  No.

But of course I’m in this line of business where we talk about God-n-stuff, and so sure, I’m getting better and better at sharing the not-so-private bits.  And of taking the private parts and sharing only the public dimension.  And then I’ve basically mastered the part about if you share any detail about your life in practical terms, people are going to either think you’re pathetic, or think you’re Amazing!, or think you’re _insert demeaning label here  , and still you just have to toss out the necessary info, and let folks think what they’re going to think.

And then there’s the part about my Educated American up-bringing.  In which God is a topic reserved for the quaint and the elderly, and folks of sound mind and breeding know not to bring up the R-word.  If you’ve read the writings St. Thomas More closely, you have a picture of what it’s like to be an earnest Christian caught up in the prejudices of his own era, and largely unaware of it.  American prejudices run the exact opposite way.  We aren’t inclined towards persecuting heretics much, except if it’s the one American heresy of suggesting that someone, somewhere, might be wrong about a matter of faith and morals.

So no, I’m not so inclined to just ask people about their religion or their faith in God.  I’m strongly trained against it.  But I’m always happy to chat if someone brings up the topic and appears interested in a straight answer.

# 2 & 3.  Normal in the abnormal fashion.  You knew that about me.

And yes I do fight the ‘you must be a freak’ feeling.  Fortunately I cut my teeth in evangelical world, so I’ve been inoculated against the worst of it.

#4.  I’ve really lucked into a good group — not at my parish in particular, but in my city.  We have a ladies’ Bible study once a month, and a monthly family-to-family get together, where the men and boys play outside, and the girls do a story and craft (Little Flowers Lite) then play outside safely away from the testerone-wing, and the moms chat and watch the babies.

I’m a graduate of the evangelical small-group world, and I still have a few families (we’re the only Catholics) that get together for a pot-luck meal once a month or so, though we ditched the formal approach a year or two ago, and just chat about life and catch up with each other.  Lots of thoughts on what makes a group click, and why some groups are better as a short-lived thing, and others seem to last decades.

–> I’m totally committed to the concept of many overlapping opportunities for parishioners to find their happy place to grow in the faith.  I’m not persuaded a formal “small groups” program is so much the solution, as letting naturally-occurring subgroups do their thing, watered and mulched with a good balanced dose of pastoral leadership.

• Have you always been Catholic?
• How did the instruction and mentoring you received help you – or prevent you – from having a personal relationship with God?

I have not always been Catholic.  I was baptized Catholic as a baby, and made my first communion in 2nd grade, then dropped into annual church attendance.  The summer before 10th grade, we moved to SC, and my mom got us all going to Mass every Sunday.  I spent 11th grade as an exchange student in France, went to Mass a couple times there, but I wasn’t staying with practicing-Catholic families, and it wasn’t in me to show up every Sunday on my own.  (I certainly could have — I had the run of the city.)

My senior year of high school, back home again, I got on the Catholic bandwagon with enthusiasm.  I made my first confession (Yes! 10 years after 1st communion!), and after a crash course in the basics of the faith, was confirmed in the spring of my senior year.  I was one of those shiny high school students youth group directors love to show off.  I was always there, always volunteering, a real Faithful Catholic in the making!  I won the parish Knights of Columbus “Catholic Student of the Year” award.

Also, and I’m going to be real candid here, but also respect the privacy of the guilty: Our Youth Group program was straight from the pit of hell.

If you haven’t got much imagination, when I say that, you are maybe picturing snarling chaperones, or vicious cliques, or one of those lewd characters committing unspeakable atrocities.   Nah.  That’s not much of an enemy of the faith, because anyone can see that those things are wrong, that the kids are being led astray.  How do you really get kids to leave the faith and commit mortal sins?  Our parish used the “everything’s fine” method:

• Run an active youth group with lots of activities and good attendance.
• Make sure your leaders are real friendly and well-meaning.
• Teach enough of the faith that everyone is sure the kids are getting good Christian formation.

Then you have to do a few things:

1. Slip in a few zingers, in the name of compassion: Maybe there are certain cases where sex outside of marriage is not a problem.  Maybe insist that all faiths are just as good, ours is just our personal “Catholic faith tradition”.  Perhaps, in this day, do what a friend’s DRE told her son — gay marriage is AOK, because it’s about two people loving each other.

We didn’t have many of those, but we had enough to make sure that somewhere in our college years, we’d find ourselves happily dissenting from the faith, and not even realize we were slowly walking away from the Church.

2. Convince everyone that teens can’t handle the Catholic faith.  Better not be too firm about modesty, the girls will run away pouting.  Better not tell parents to insist on chastity — soft pedal it with, “I’d rather you didn’t, but if you must, at least use protection.”  When you do teach the firm truths of the faith, make sure the instructor is really just reading from the text, and is unable to answer any hard questions, and unwilling to look up the answers and follow-up later.

3. Quietly fail to teach the kids how to explain and defend the faith.  Just happen to leave it out of the curriculum. This is pretty easy to do if you’ve already established that there’s no real right or wrong — the faith is really just a collection of good ideas we mostly like, right?

Now I was that award-winning Catholic.  So when I went up to college for freshman orientation, I hunted down the local Catholic student group to find out all about it, ready to be involved come the fall.  Met some friendly grad students still in town through the summer, had a nice weekend.  And that was it.  I turned out for Mass once or twice after I got to school, but there really wasn’t any Catholic presence on campus.  My new Baptist friends were all gung ho to recruit me, but it didn’t take.  I couldn’t defend the Catholic faith, but I was still a patriot, and knew I didn’t like all this Jesus talk.  We never used all this Jesus talk back home at the parish, so surely it wasn’t Catholic, right?

Instead I slipped into Intelligent University Thinker mode.  You know — too smart for all this organized-religion business, too hip for those simplistic moral codes written for dumb people in centuries past who needed to be told what to do, and plus, I had other things to do.  My weekends were busy, you know?  Oh, I was still Catholic, for a long time.  It took me four years to fully shake off my Catholic identity, and I never did quit receiving communion if I happened to be at Mass for some social reason.  (Yes.  I know.  I know.)

And that’s how I left the faith.

If you wonder why I’m crazy-obsessive about good catechesis, this is why.  I know where pathetic milquetoast  Church of the Good Intentions teaching leads.

I have every patience for the ordinary guy in the pew who just doesn’t know his faith.  I was that person.  I know how easy it is to be that person through no fault of your own.  You show up every week at Mass, and no one ever bothers to explain the faith to you, beyond a few general exhortations to love God and neighbor.  You attend Bible study, or the men’s or women’s group, or religious ed, and still learn nothing. So where are you going to learn the faith?  On Fox News?  From the New York Times?  Well, when your parish refuses you to teach you, that is where you learn it.  That is all you’ve got left.  It’s no surprise you’re barely Catholic — it’s a wonder you turn out at all.

But if you’re a priest or a DRE or a youth minister, and you’re refusing to teach the Catholic faith to your flock?  If you haven’t bothered to teach to your audience how to explain and defend the Catholic position on life issues, or chastity, or _insert hard teaching here__?  Can’t seem to get around to making sure your lay leaders know and understand and practice the faith? I’m mad at you.  Table-turning, kick-you-out-of-the-temple-courtyard mad.

Because you are ruining people’s lives in your dereliction of duty.

I pray God will have mercy on those souls you’ve failed to teach.  I pray He will have mercy on your soul — for I suspect that we spend some portion of our purgatory enduring the suffering earned by those in our care whom we lead astray.

Hard words.  I know.  Catholic leadership is a sobering and serious responsibility.  We kid ourselves if we think we can hide behind our little excuses.

But there is mercy.  Even for the pathetic puny soul of the lukewarm Catholic leader who helps walk hundreds upon hundreds of parishioners into a life of mortal sin, one gentle “pastoral” lie at a time . . . there is mercy.  Redemption is for all men, not only for the humble guy in the pew.

To whom much is given, much is expected.  But he who is forgiven much loves his Lord all the more.

In which I chronicle Attempt #32,786 in my on-going effort to one day become a responsible person.  Not to be considered a description of What Happens Reliably Every Single Day at the Fitz House.  But reliably 3/5ths of the time?  Yes.  Which is progress, for us.

Thank you so much for listing us as the “family that referred you” when you first enrolled with Kolbe Academy.  What a pleasant surprise I had yesterday, when Nancy the friendly book lady told me she’d have to reduce my book bill by $50, on account of the credit someone had given us. I promptly went out and spent the bonus on . . . more books.

Predictably Yours,

Jennifer.

PS: The SuperHusband is making pointed comments about me overfilling the newly-built bookshelves shelves.  I have dispatched him to the opening-day festivities at Conquest Brewing while I quickly file my new finds, so that he is unable to tell exactly how many used books I acquired this morning. 

PPS: In any case, it was not really that many.  Because I could carry them all to the car in a single trip.

Week 1, and you get to pick what you write, so I’m answering this question:

How would you describe your lived relationship with God to this point in your life?

It was strange to me when I read about how so many Catholics do not have a notion of God as a Person (technically: Persons) with whom one can have a relationship.

I was raised barely Catholic — made my first communion, then spent most of my youth popping in at Palm Sunday and Easter for our annual two-week This Time We’re Going to Start Going Back to Church Every Sunday kick.  But I always had a notion of God as someone you talk to, listen to — I wouldn’t have called it “having a relationship”, because I was just a kid.  You don’t use those words when you’re a kid.  But that’s what it was.

–> Even during my ardently agnostic/pantheistic kick during young adulthood, I still considered God *someone*.  I might have claimed He was this Force Blah Blah Blah, but in practice, yes, a Person.  You don’t chat with a Force.

The big thing that pushed me back towards the Church was the alarming discovery that I had somehow gotten so far away from God that I couldn’t feel His presence anymore — I was visiting one of the historic mission churches around San Antonio, and was deeply disturbed to drop into an active parish — sanctuary lamp lit — and feel *nothing*.  It was so dead wrong I knew I was in trouble.

And the rest is details.  I asked God to help me*, and He did.  Here I am.

Find more answers over at CatholicMom.com.  As always, feel free to share your own answers, or a link thereto, in this combox.

*By “ask”, I mean: Desperately pleaded.  Tears.  Lamenting. Wailing? Maybe kinda, yeah.  Not on the San Antonio trip, but a little bit later, riding down 81/77 in southwest VA.  In the privacy of my own vehicle, thank you. I’m not a public-weeper if I can help it.

You’ll be reading ​Forming Intentional Disciples by Sherry Weddell, which I happen to think is one of the most important Catholic books on the market today.  Important enough that I’m putting together a local book club in my own town, to meet and discuss the book. And so are you?  Yes?

And because you like to talk about things on the internet, you’ll be visiting CatholicMom.com’s Lawn Chair Catechism discussion group.  Led by Sarah Reinhard, whom you’ll recognize as one of my favorite writer-people.  And who is an extroverted friendly person, so I bet sheee never clams up when it’s time to drop the J-word.  She’ll be doing one of those linky-link festivals, or you can participate in the combox at CatholicMom.com, or at a participating blog near you.

(This blog is very near you.)

Because you don’t have a ton of money . . . Our Sunday Visitor is watching out for you: From now until the end of the month, you can purchase the book from the publisher’s website for $10, free shipping, no minimum.  This is basically the wholesale price.  Sarah asked OSV for a little coupon, and they responded with extreme generosity.

Because actually you’re illiterate very busy, but you like to talk about evangelization, or at least just complain about what’s wrong with the world . . . CatholicMom.com has pre-released the weekly discussion questions, which include a cliff-notes executive summary of each chapter.  Find the link at the Lawn Chair Catechism landing page.

Because you’re exceedingly irritated that I’ve suddenly started using Facebook to post links to this event, and not a single cat photo . . . send your hate mail to Christian LeBlanc, Fr. Longenecker, and the SuperHusband.  They started it, not me.  I just write stuff and talk a lot.

Blurry Cat Photos are over-rated. Read Forming Intentional Disciples instead.

Who else to blame?  Will Duquette say you should read it too.

And so does Mark Shea, but he’s friends with Sherry Weddell, so he’s probably just making it up.

I, on the other hand, have never even met Sherry, or even stalked her on the internet, so you can believe me.

PS: Pope Francis Says: You probably don’t want to answer all the “your parish” questions on the internet.  But discuss in the privacy of your own local evangelization group?  Yes indeed.

Saturday, June 22: Fortnight for Freedom Mass, 8:30am at St. Peter Church, Columbia, SC.
Main Celebrant: Bishop Robert E. Guglielmone

Eucharistic Procession immediately after Mass, starting at St. Peter Church to the State House, with Benediction at the State House steps.

How awesome is that?  Five blocks of awesome, that’s how much.

Why yes, I am wildly excited.

Now returning to the long list of work-items people are hoping I’ll finish soon.

Latin Happiness.  At CatholicMom.com: In which I explain how I went over to the dark side and paid for flashcards, AND monkey-themed Latin-Lite videos. Also found some other digital person to teach grown-up Latin to the boy and I, and no surprise, all are happier for it.

Shiny happy feeling inside this author: The reprint is at Catholic Lane.  (Yay!)

A well-licked baby rat is a happy baby rat.  SuperHusband & I have been taking Family Honor’s summer course on Catholic Sex-Ed.  (It’s not called that.  “Cultural Implications” or something like that.)  Astute observers would have predicted: I’m really enjoying the class, whenever I set aside my natural dread of deadlines and obligations, and sit down to do the work.

Double-enjoying it once I realized I didn’t have to sit still and listen to the lectures, because hey, long stretchy headphone cords . . . I can workout while I listen.  Score one for online courses.

Right now I’m reading this, of which you can download the executive summary at no charge:

Encouragement for those of us who sometimes doubt whether all this parenting effort is going to have any effect in the long run.

Forming Intentional Questions. The other reason I’m hiding from the internet is to churn out a set of discussion questions for Sherry Weddell’s Forming Intentional Disciples.  Because I’m going to be part of a book club.  And so are you. Bwahahaha . . . more news soon.   Questions are written, and now need to be purged of typos.

Have a great week.