As part of the continuing Lawn Chair Catechism series on "Forming Intentional Disciples: The Path to Knowing and Following Jesus" by Sherry Weddell over at CatholicMom.com, I am joining the discussion here on "The Backs of People's Heads and Baby Faces". Take a look over at CatholicMom.com to see what we're talking about this week and feel free to drop in with your thoughts here or at CatholicMom, or even on your own blog.
This week we're talking about telling the story of Jesus. Having grown up in a neighborhood where everyone went to church and we had round robin VBS opportunities all through the Summer at the local Baptist, Lutheran and Methodist churches, I can't really remember a time as a child when I didn't know the story of Jesus.
I went to Catholic school where just about everyone was Catholic and we all went to Mass every Sunday and everyone "knew about Jesus". It was so woven into the fabric of my world, that it never seemed like a new idea. And, because of that, I don't believe I have EVER told the story of Jesus to anyone. Not even my kids. Well, not consciously.
We talked about it, of course. We talked about why Jesus was born. We talked about why he had to die. We talked about how he rose. And we talk all the time, now, about how he is always right there with us. But everything was in bits and pieces.
As an adult, when I began to rebuild my own faith, the story of Jesus never even figured into my studies. I wanted to find out more about the Bible, the Sacraments, Social Teaching and the Saints. I wanted to know what made it all tick. And truly, I think I got lost looking for trees, while standing in the forest.
I think that's one of the strengths of the program that the Sisters run in our parish. The bible courses are not just a "bible study" where you take one book of the bible and dissect it. As I understand it, they start with the Story of Jesus and then they go back and tell the story of Salvation History. It's important even for those of us who "know all that". Maybe it's especially important.
One year, when I was in my twenties, I went to the entire Easter Triduum. I had never been to all three parts of it. It was immersing myself in the drama of the Passion of Christ and his Glorious Resurrection that woke me up to the fact that this is REAL. It's not a fairy tale. It's not a myth. It's reality. So, even though I "knew" the story. I never knew the real story. Suddenly, I was paying attention. It was seeing everything I knew in context that gave me a jolt. But it never occurred to me that it was something that I needed to share with anyone else.
So, that's where I am right now: sitting here gobsmacked thinking, "Well, duh!"