Deep Conversations

So we were finishing up dinner earlier this week, and as usual, Sprout was asking all sorts of random, off-the-wall questions like "if I programmed a computer with really good voice-recognition software, would it recognize the dog's barks?" and "why do you eat more Oreos than I do?" and "why was Jesus laid in a manger when he was born?"

And that last one actually led to a really long, really good discussion.  'Cause that manger wasn't just convenient, it solidified Christ's role as food - and humble food at that - for the world, right from his birth.  We talked about the difference between the Old Testament covenant and that of the New Testament, and what a covenant even is in the first place.

Sprout is such a perceptive kid.  He thinks things through; even when it seems like no one is home in there, his brain is always working on some problem.  So he asked about that manger, and then jumped right in, asking question after question as we talked through dessert and the dishes.  And predictably, the conversation turned to marriage and how the covenant is lived out in the family.

And it seemed that our little talk with Sprout was actually a pretty good summary of the Catholic concept of marriage and family; one which unfortunately is often reduced to a few soundbytes that distort and distill reality beyond recognition.  I can't lay claim to any enlightenment on the subject - ten years ago as I walked down that church aisle, I had no idea about any of this.  I thought I did - I was a nice churchgoing person, I was taking it seriously, SSHH and I had spent a lot of time talking about all sorts of married-people-things and we were both adamant that the day was not a wedding but the commencement of a marriage.  But really, I had no clue.  And I'm quite sure that even now, ten years and a basketball team of kids later, I still have no clue.  Maybe in another fifty years.  But I'll get on my soapbox anyway.

Because a Catholic marriage is a reflection of God's covenant through Christ.  A Catholic marriage has nothing to do with being in love and gazing into each other's eyes and getting all fluttery.  Being in love and gazing into each other's eyes and getting all fluttery are undoubtedly fun and wonderful and Very Good Things, but they have nothing to do with the validity of a marriage.  They might make marriage easier - but they don't fundamentally have anything to do with marriage.

If a Catholic marriage is a reflection of Christ's love for us, then in a Catholic marriage one is called to love their spouse even when that spouse is being pretty darned unlovable.  Even if that unlovable-state is permanent.  Even when you aren't loved in return.  "For better or for worse" doesn't just imply job losses, or moves to faraway places, or illness, or "tough times."  It means that you commit to loving your spouse completely, wholly, and singularly, no matter what, because Christ loves us whether or not we are lovable, and whether or not we love Him.  It's no accident that Scripture refers to the Church as Christ's bride - it's a marital relationship, and the model for our marital relationships.

And then Sprout asked, "well, then, what's divorce?" And I took a deep breath, because among other lovely people in our lives, my own parents are divorced, and one remarried, and while we want to make our beliefs crystal clear, we also don't want to say anything that would harm the respect and love he has for the people he knows.  And so we talked about how many people see marriage as something that happens between two people who are in love, and how they see being in love as one of the most important things in a marriage.  That if they stop being in love, then they don't believe there's a reason for the marriage anymore - since the promise to love as Christ loved isn't there, and the reflection of the covenant isn't there.

And then the conversation turned to different things, which was just as well, because I was really struggling with how to explain some very adult ideas to a nine year-old, but it got me thinking about how annoyed I get when I hear a remark like "Catholics don't believe in divorce," because that's reductionist to the point of absurdity.  It's not about divorce - it's about an entirely different foundation for marriage.  It's about making the promise to God - despite all of our imperfections - to try to love just one other person as Christ loved us.  Whether that person gets sick, or "becomes a different person," or you "grow apart," or even if they just plain walk out - you have made that promise to God to love them, singularly and uniquely, as Christ loves.  And there are no take-backs on that.  The marriage isn't dependent on them - it's only dependent on you.  A good, healthy, successful Catholic marriage will have two partners equally committed to the marriage, and to helping their spouses grow and love and be loved and be happy.  But your job and responsibility in a Catholic marriage is quite simply to love.  Love returned is a gift, not an entitlement.

It's the same complete, unquestioning, all-encompassing gift of self that God made of Himself in Christ.  It's why Catholics "don't believe in birth control," either, and believe that having children, or at least being open to them, is fundamental to marriage - if you are making an entire gift of yourself, then holding back the ability to create life is incompatible with that.  Creating new life is one of the most God-like things a couple can do when they give of themselves, and to block that capacity is not a part of the complete self-gift required in marriage.  It's a radical way of living and a radical way of loving, and it's often very, very difficult.  I'm blessed to be in a marriage where love, respect, and care are given from both sides, and it's still difficult.  Every day requires becoming less you and more them.  It requires consciously practicing love in every word and action.

There are plenty of marriages between non-Catholics that are all of these things, and are wonderful, blessed, holy marriages.  There are plenty of marriages between people who are Catholic that are none of these things.  And I'm realizing now that I've probably made Catholic marriage sound like a pretty miserable proposition, and not at all like something that any sane person would enter into.  But the wonderful thing is that by the grace of God, it can be - and is - filled with joy.  The more you empty yourself of yourself, the more you become open to being filled with His love - by God through your spouse.  It's not a partnership, or a relationship, or a friendship, or a parenting endeavor - it's more than any or all of those things.  Done well, it's a mirror, in a small way, of God's love.  And that's pretty cool.

Lent

As usual, I'm struggling with how to observe Lent with a bunch of wee rugrats.  We do all of the usual Lenten things - the kids decide to "give something up" and then either struggle mightily with it and fall two days into Lent, or they get cunning with their choices ("I will give up broccoli because it's gross anyway"); we go to Confession and take the big kids to pray the Stations of the Cross; we talk about prayer, fasting, and almsgiving - but that all often seems to fly right over the heads of little ones.

The alternative, which we've also tried, is a sort of nebulous, vacuous understanding of what Lent is.  I've found lists of activities for kids to do during Lent that include things like "give someone a hug" and "play nicely," but that doesn't really get one any closer to God than they should be doing on a daily basis anyway.  God is hard, faith is hard, and it's important that they understand that - but really difficult to get there without the journey seeming punitive.

So this year we have a plan.  As a convert, I didn't exactly grow up being aware that liturgical seasons were even a thing, so I do much better when I have a plan.  I've found a super Lenten calendar that has something to do for each of the days of Lent, with each day marked for either prayer, fasting, or service.  It's things that will actually require some effort from the kids - they're aghast at the thought of having no screen time at all tomorrow, although they came up with the idea of praying together instead all on their own.

We'll help pick up litter in our neighborhood, buy supplies for the local animal shelter, and invite a friend to dinner.  We'll write our own prayers on a theme for the day, and learn about a different culture, and drink water instead of milk or juice for a day in solidarity with the poor.

We're also making more of a concerted effort to pray together as a family.  We always have, at least at the start of school, meals, and bedtime, and we've been reading a Psalm at dinner on Sundays - but we're going to try praying the Rosary together and getting to daily Mass and adoration more often.  The more we're able to work prayer into our life, we've found, the easier it becomes to do.

And all of that is really a trial run for next year's school.  We had found a religion curriculum that we really liked - and then our parish religious education program, which the kids attend, started to use the same one.  This was a great thing, as they'd been using a pretty empty, feel-good curriculum before, but it left us in the lurch, finding this out the same week we were starting school!  Not knowing how in-depth they were going to go with it, we decided to plow ahead with using the same texts at home this year - which has resulted in some duplication and frustration.  Homeschool fail.  Since the parish program is doing a pretty decent job with the nuts-and-bolts of religious ed, I think next year we're going to drop a "formal" religion curriculum from our homeschool altogether.  Instead we'll learn about the saints, we'll pray more together as part of school - maybe even starting the day with morning prayer together - and we'll make volunteering and service a regular part of our week.  Ultimately, we decided, we're more comfortable "outsourcing" religious education than we are with not being very hands-on in how they live their faith.

So please pray for and with us as we start this season of growth.  Pray that the kids enjoy the journey - little Doodle was delighted this morning that everyone was "getting messy" at Mass together, and it was really okay with mom and dad - and that they are able to focus on building their relationship with God more than the sacrifices.  Pray that SweetPotato finally consents to take a bite of fish, any fish, really.  Pray that we grow closer as we pray and serve together.  Pray that I do not strangle the kids on days of no screen time or no snacks.  And pray that as we go through the next forty days, trying and stumbling and falling and getting back up and learning together, that we may be, in some small way, a reflection of Christ and the Church in the world.

So it was Catholic Schools Week

Last week, so our parish tells us, was Catholic Schools Week.  First, I'll say that I love our Catholic schools.  Sprout went to our parish school for two years and had a great time.  Catholic schools offer options for solid academics in many areas where public schools are lacking, and for many families are a good option for a faith-based education.  They're awesome.

My quibble is with the way this was all presented in our parish.  Well-spoken young men and women stood up after Mass and talked about their wonderful experiences at our parish school, and the pastor extolled the virtues of "Catholic education" and how great the school was for anyone looking for said "Catholic education" for their children.

But it was Catholic Schools Week, not Catholic Education Week, and those are two very different things.  It is entirely possible to have a great Catholic education without attending a Catholic school.  There are an awful lot of Catholic families providing a great homeschooled Catholic education to their children, and an awful lot providing a great Catholic education to their children at home and through other avenues while their kids go to public or secular private schools.  Catholic school is not an option for many, and that doesn't mean at all that those children aren't receiving a Catholic education.

Now I realize that these two options don't bring money into the school or the parish, and at the end of the day the parish school needs students to help pay the bills.  But Catholic school ain't cheap - not at the elementary level, and it's beyond the reach of most in high school.  One or two students are a stretch - and when you have a large family, it's nearly always cost-prohibitive.  And many Catholic schools don't have resources for students with special needs, or gifted students, or students who speak English as a second language, which makes them not a viable option for many families.

I wish that parishes (okay, our parish) would reach out to these families.  They're trying their darndest to give their kids a Catholic education - whatever form that might take - and they're often shuttled to the back of the line because they're not writing big checks or taking the "usual route."  Our parish has no homeschool group or ministry - we're invisible.  I didn't even know we had any homeschooling families until we could no longer afford the parish school and I started asking around about homeschooling.  The kids in religious education classes on evenings and weekends, or the public/homeschool kids who do scouts or volunteer work through the parish don't get recognized in the parish community for their contributions - not the way the school's basketball team did, or the middle school kids did during Catholic Schools Week.  And that makes it hard not to be cynical sometimes.

And this causes, I think, a disconnect between parish life and raising a Catholic family.  The fact is that there are myriad ways to raise and educate Catholic children, and to do it well, and not every family is able or wants to go the Catholic school route, for many reasons.  That doesn't mean that those families aren't contributing, valuable members of the parish and Catholic community.  But when "excellent, life-changing Catholic education" is made out to be synonymous with "parish school," it sure feels like we're second-class citizens.

But putting my griping aside, our little homeschool itself is just wonderful right now.  SweetPotato can write all her letters and numbers.   Our kindergartener SweetPea is finishing up first grade math, grammar, and writing right now, and will start second grade work next month.  She decided she wanted to do Latin and geography like her big brother, so, well, she is - and she's enjoying it.  Third-grader Sprout just finished fourth grade grammar and writing, and he's finally internalizing the concept that if he gets his work done early - he can have fun all afternoon.  For a nine year-old boy who often has the attention span of a gnat (unless he's reading about computers; then you can't stop him), that's huge.

Last year at this time we were in a major slump - the kids were bored, we were stuck inside because of the winter weather, and the daily grind was getting on everyone's nerves.  This year, while we are a bit stir-crazy since the backyard and playgrounds are either frozen solid or muddy swamps, everyone is still plugging away cheerfully and making good progress.  Which is great, because I don't want to have to feel guilty about slacking off for a week or two when WeeOne #5 arrives this spring.  Maybe it's better organization (I can't believe how much of a difference our new schoolroom makes when it comes to getting work done and lesson plans organized), maybe we're finding more time for field trips (great fun at the Maryland Science center!), maybe we're just finding our way, or maybe the kids are discovering more that interests them in this year's work.  Whatever it is, we're having fun, learning together, praying together, and walking together with God - and that, I think, is a pretty fair Catholic education.