Among many issues facing the Catholic Church today is a generation of members who do not understand the most basic beliefs of the faith. As a result, many Catholics have lukewarm faith, they do not show up weekly for Mass, and they are ignorant of many Church teachings, let alone able to explain or defend them.
I personally know this truth; for decades, I was a Catholic in name only.
My father was a convert to Catholicism; my mother chose to remain Baptist. Both had fallen away from God when I was ready for First Communion, which was the first Mass I remember attending. I had no idea that I would gain sacramental admission to receiving the Body and Blood of Christ, I simply did what my parents told me to do. My mother helped me put on the dressy clothes I had, just like she helped me put on my school uniform each day, then my parents took me to church that bright Sunday morning. I am unsure if it was early fall 1969 or spring 1970.
I stood there up in front in the sanctuary of St. Peter Claver church with my 1st Grade classmates, playing along and staying reasonably quiet while waiting for our time. With Communion, I received a small cross necklace that churches give out at such times. Did I know what that moment meant in my spiritual life, what sacred privilege I had just received? A sacred privilege the Lord had won for us through horrible torture, His death and Resurrection?
Whereupon Jesus said to them, “Believe me when I tell you this; you can have no life in yourselves, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man, and drink his blood. The man who eats my flesh and drinks my blood enjoys eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day. My flesh is real food, my blood is real drink. He who eats my flesh, and drinks my blood, lives continually in me, and I in him. As I live because of the Father, the living Father who has sent me, so he who eats me will live, in his turn, because of me. Such is the bread which has come down from heaven; it is not as it was with your fathers, who ate manna and died none the less; the man who eats this bread will live eternally.” John 6:53-59, Knox Translation
Sadly, I did not.
I also had little understanding of the Mass, since my family didn’t attend. One day in class, I overheard one of my classmates say that she and her family went to church every Sunday. I wanted to see what it was like on an ordinary day. My parents indulged me, but didn’t bring either of my older brothers, one of which also attended St. Peter Claver that year, while the other attended Cretin High School (now Cretin-Derham Hall. The school decided to honor former Archbishop Cretin, not create a disparaging commentary about the supposed mental capacity of its students. Shut up.) Once again, I didn’t understand liturgy. Being a child prone to easy boredom when I didn’t understand what was happening around me, I started to get fussy and impatient. I can still hear my mother scolding me: “Paul, stop squirming!” My father gave me one of his disapproving looks that would stop any misbehaving child instantly, as was his hallmark. No one explained anything to me about the Mass, my ignorance simply continued without interference. Mass to me consisted of people talking: one person at times, everyone at others. I didn’t understand the Bible readings, I didn’t understand the Homily, I didn’t get the Eucharistic Prayer…I only knew about going up and getting that crunchy wafer when the time came. My depth of understanding was remarkably shallow, even for a 1st grader.
That Sunday that was the last time I attended Mass outside school until I was nearly 20 years old. And I spent years…decades…making up for that oversight.
I do not wish to place all blame on my parents for my ignorance, my religious upbringing involved other causes. Many in my neighborhood turned away from God, or rejected him outright. I have forgiven all involved and prayed for them. Overall, I believe the biggest reason for what happened is that I myself chose the paths I took. There are other paths I did not choose, many questions I did not ask, calls from the Father, Son and Holy Spirit I did not listen to. Positively reacting to such could have helped me avoid questionable life choices.
I am hoping that this sketched vignette of my childhood will touch lives and show parents the importance of teaching the faith to their children.
Paul L Carter 