Making God Real

When Dennis and I stood before the 21 high school sophomores in our faith formation class at our upstate New York parish last week, their stony silence and barely contained eye-rolling was enough to make less stalwart teachers wither on the spot, but we’d seen it all before. We taught most of the same kids last year since they’re in a two-year program that will culminate with confirmation this spring.

Based on our experience, their apathy isn’t necessarily related to a surge of teenage surliness but rather to a lack of foundational catechesis. Every year, when students reluctantly return to class, I find I’m grateful if even half of them remember the Our Father. Most aren’t going to Sunday Mass, many have no intention of remaining active in the parish after confirmation, and some are outright hostile toward the faith. When I look out at these kids—regardless of age, regardless of whether they’ve gone to a Catholic or public elementary school—I see future ex-Catholics, probably as many as 75 percent of them.

We could blame the teacher or the parents, or both, but I think the blame falls squarely in the lap of the Church, which has, for decades, let the parents of these children go spiritually hungry, through misguided catechesis in their youth and preaching that failed to challenge and engage them as adults. As Pope Francis told priests at ordination this year: “May your homilies not be boring; may your homilies touch the heart of the people because they come from your heart.”

Some might argue that even with unchallenging preaching, the Eucharist should be enough to draw people in, but that’s simply not possible when people have no grasp of the power and wonder of the sacrament because no one has taught them—not in a classroom and not from the pulpit.

People are hungry, yes, but before they can run to Jesus in the Eucharist, they must walk into a parish on any given Sunday and hear the words that feed their flagging spirits, and find fellowship that reminds them they are not alone. When that doesn’t happen, they go elsewhere. Perhaps to the non-denominational church up the street where the preaching is riveting and the community is fully engaged—and made up predominantly of former Catholics. They don’t have Eucharist, but people feel fed, and they return week after week. When you sit in church this Sunday, try to see it as a newcomer might, and ask yourself this: If this were your first and only experience of Catholicism, would you ever return?

We need to begin to draw families in by making them feel welcome, by giving them something more than registration deadlines and weekly envelopes, by connecting our ancient rituals to their contemporary lives. Only when they feel as though they belong in this Church—to this Church—will they be open to retracing the spiritual steps of their childhood and embracing the path of faith as an adult. When they do, they will bring their children with them, and faith formation will no longer be seen as a ticket that must be stamped to receive a sacrament and “graduate” from religion, but rather as a first step on a lifelong journey.

Of course, teens will be teens, and they will still roll their eyes and answer questions with stony silence, but beneath that will be a foundation of real faith, and the powerful, life-giving knowledge that they are loved beyond measure by a God who created them, and saved them, and waits for them.

I believe the kids sitting in our class acting like they couldn’t care less about religion desperately want and need a God like that, as do their parents. Unless we find a way to make God real and relevant to their lives, He will always remain an abstract idea, which is a loss not just for them, but for all of us.   

Mary DeTurris Poust is a retreat leader, public speaker and author of six books on Catholic spirituality. Visit her at at: www.notstrictlyspiritual.com.