The Teaching Vocation
By Fr. Peter M. J. Stravinskas
In many respects the vocation of teaching is the most important professional vocation in the Church. Why? Because without good Catholic school teachers, the priest could not function properly in the sanctuary; the pews would be more empty than they are today; the faith would stop with this generation; society would be impoverished by lacking the leaven of Catholic graduates; and the rich traditions of our faith would fade into the distant past. In point of fact, without the work of evangelization and catechesis, liturgy would be reduced to magic and superstition. And so it is fair to say that Catholic school teachers are not merely cogs in a wheel; they are the very hub!
My entire priestly life and ministry has been lived in and through the apostolate of Catholic education. How did that happen? Permit me to be a bit autobiographical.
When it came time for my parents to enroll their only child in school, they were determined that a Catholic school was the only option. Now, this was not unusual in the 1950s, except that my parents were not typical: they had not attended Catholic schools themselves; they were not married in the Church; they had not been to Mass for years. Why they were so adamant about my schooling was a question I never got answered. Of course, the real answer is “Divine Providence.”
And so, by a process which I like to call “reverse evangelization,” through the parish school, I brought my parents back to a practice of the faith and also found my vocation at that very tender age. That’s why I am so committed to the school apostolate—because I know that what the school did for me and my family, it can still do for countless others today—and it does. How do teachers fit into this picture?
One of my favorite passages in the Old Testament is found in the Book of Ezekiel, where the prophet is confronted with a vision of a field of dry, dead bones and commanded to prophesy over them, so as to bring them back to life. Is that not the situation in which we find ourselves in the secularized West? Unfortunately, like the Chosen People of old, most of our contemporaries do not realize that they are dead and that the culture is moribund. It is our task to demonstrate to them just how lifeless the whole culture is. Were it otherwise, how would one explain the vast array of children with learning disabilities of every kind; the couches of psychiatrists constantly filled; the suicide rate (especially among the young) the highest in our history? Too often, we Catholic educators have been intimidated into silence in the face of what is, in reality, an “anti-culture,” lest we appear “out of it” or “uncool.”
Back in the silly and stupid sixties, we were told that if we could shake off the shackles of religion and morality, we would experience true and complete happiness. Religion, we heard, was an albatross, an inhibition, an obstacle to human fulfillment. Well, the shackles were certainly removed, and the result has been a disaster. With the depressing signs all around us, we are in an ideal position to be educators, in the root Latin sense of the word, “educere,” to lead out—leading our students out of the misery and shackles of a godless modernity. We must convince them—being convinced first of all ourselves—of the truth put forth so powerfully by Pope Benedict XVI in his inaugural homily, which in turn was harking back to the inaugural homily of Pope John Paul II. In his accustomed eloquence, Benedict ended with this flourish:
If we let Christ into our lives, we lose nothing, nothing, absolutely nothing of what makes life free, beautiful and great. No! Only in this friendship are the doors of life opened wide. Only in this friendship is the great potential of human existence truly revealed. Only in this friendship do we experience beauty and liberation. And so, today, with great strength and great conviction, on the basis of long personal experience of life, I say to you, dear young people: Do not be afraid of Christ! He takes nothing away, and he gives you everything. When we give ourselves to him, we receive a hundredfold in return. Yes, open, open wide the doors to Christ – and you will find true life.
Therein is the holy vocation, the noble calling of a Catholic school teacher—to teach those committed to our care that in following Christ and His Church, we lose nothing that is “free, beautiful and great”—and gain much more besides. However, every Catholic educator must understand his or her calling and glory in it. Just what kind of understanding will enable you to be effective proclaimers of Gospel living and Catholic truth?
First of all, before becoming a teacher, one must be a student, a disciple. An old Latin adage instructs us: “Nemo dat quod non habet” (No one can give what he doesn’t have). One must enroll oneself in the School of Jesus and, having gone through a thorough education in the faith and a serious formation in virtuous living, only then will one be able to teach others. Only once we are evangelized can we become evangelists. Only once we become disciples can we become credible teachers—a point powerfully made by Pope Paul VI: “Modern man listens more willingly to witnesses than to teachers, and if he does listen to teachers, it is because they are witnesses.” In a 1996 address to Catholic educators, Pope John Paul II wove together several threads: personal commitment to Christ, professional competence, permeation of the curriculum with religious and moral values (in other words, religion isn’t only taught in a half-hour religion class), all of which lead to an atmosphere of genuine Christian life.
Prayer as an essential ingredient of the life of a Catholic educator. Consider the admonition of the Venerable Mother Luisita, foundress of the wonderful Carmelite Sisters of Alhambra, who asserted, without fear of contradiction: “Do not simply be good teachers. Be souls of prayer or you will have nothing to offer the children.” Her assertion brings to mind a recollection from third grade. I noticed that Sister Vera had a black spiral binder on her desk, whose pages she turned one by one every day. One morning, I asked: “Sister, what’s in that big black binder?” “Ah, Peter,” she said, “next year you’ll be in that book. I have the name of every child I have ever taught there. And day by day, I pray for the children listed on the page for the day.” What a beautiful practice! What a consoling thought for a child to know that he is being remembered in prayer by one of his former teachers!
We often note that our teachers are not generally well paid. While all of us would like to see that situation improved, let me also make a few comments in that regard. When I was a high school administrator, during Catholic Schools Week, we always had a teacher appreciation day, in the lead-up to which I distributed a faculty list to the students, identifying the teacher’s field, the salary that person received from us, and what that teacher would earn in the government school down the block.
Some of the teachers did not like the practice and thought it potentially demeaning. I disagreed. Why? Because, invariably, students would go up to a teacher and say, “Mrs. Jones, you mean to tell me that you could make $10,000 a year more by just walking down the road? Why do you stay here?” Those questions became “teachable moments,” allowing the teacher to explain that he or she was in a Catholic school, not to make money, but to share a Christian vision of life, thus inviting the whole school community to life on high with Christ for all eternity. In our materialistic culture, that kind of witness is invaluable. At a practical level, I should also mention that there are trade-offs in life: If you enter a Catholic school at eight in the morning with four limbs, your dignity and a lesson plan, I can pretty well guarantee that you will leave at three with four limbs, your dignity and a completed lesson—plus so much more.
Nor must we give in to discouragement. At times we hear people say that Johnny went to twelve years of Catholic school but hasn’t darkened the door of a church since graduation. While this is surely regrettable, it is also evidence that what we do in our schools is catechesis and evangelization, not brain-washing. If every Catholic school graduate emerged a devout, practicing Catholic, we might have cause to wonder. Not that we wouldn’t want that to be the case—we do—but grace is offered and can be refused. As St. John Paul was fond of saying, the faith is proposed, not imposed.
In this regard, we have something to learn from the parable of the sower, on the various types of soil in which the seed of the Word of God is sown. While we teachers are used to assigning a grade of 65 or 70 as passing, what does Jesus say about a passing grade for a sower of the seed, that is, a Catholic educator? The Master Teacher says a teacher who succeeds 25% of the time is indeed a success. Why? Because, as St. Thomas Aquinas taught, “grace builds on nature.” We can only do so much with what we are presented. Or, as Cardinal Dolan of New York is wont to put it in one of his homey and “foody” images, “You can only make gnocchi with the dough you’ve been given!”
Today, children are coming to us all too often from homes where the parents don’t know how to parent because they were never properly parented. Therefore, teachers today—more than ever before—truly stand in loco parentis (in the place of parents). We need to, can, and must catechize and evangelize two generations at once—and not infrequently three. That ought not be viewed as a burden but as an exhilarating opportunity.
When all is said and done, the teacher’s vocation is really about working for the Communion of Saints. That is, saving ourselves through our noble vocation as teachers and helping to save as many of our students and their families as we can. In one of the more revealing dialogues in the award-winning film, A Man for All Seasons, St. Thomas More engages the weasel Richard Rich in a conversation about his future. Rich says that he has thought about becoming a teacher but has dismissed it in the end. “Why?’ asks More. “Who would know?” responds the egoistic Rich. More, who had a way of getting to the heart of the matter, replies: “You would know; your students would know; God would know. Not a bad audience!” Indeed, not a bad audience.
So, take to heart the divine challenge given to Ezekiel and see in every academic year the exciting challenge to bring to life dry bones, which will rise up to form an army of Christian soldiers who will be a force for truth and goodness and renewal in the Church and in society-at-large. We have the assurance of God Himself that this can happen: “I have promised, and I will do it, says the Lord.”
I always say that a teacher, a parent, or a priest must develop the mentality of the long-distance runner. What do I mean? It is rare to see immediate results for our efforts. Sometimes the affirmation comes years later; sometimes, not at all.
Saint John Henry Cardinal Newman—a grand promoter of Catholic education in the nineteenth century—puts it all into perspective for us:
God has created me to do Him some definite service. He has committed some work to me which He has not committed to another. I have my mission. I may never know it in this life, but I shall be told it in the next. I am a link in a chain, a bond of connection between persons. He has not created me for naught. I shall do good; I shall do His work. I shall be an angel of peace, a preacher of truth in my own place, while not intending it if I do but keep His commandments.
Therefore, I will trust Him, whatever I am, I can never be thrown away. If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve Him; in perplexity, my perplexity may serve Him. If I am in sorrow, my sorrow may serve Him. He does nothing in vain. He knows what He is about. He may take away my friends. He may throw me among strangers. He may make me feel desolate, make my spirits sink, hide my future from me. Still, He knows what He is about.
Yes, the Almighty knows what He is about, and He has given Catholic school teachers the call to teach His little ones about Him. What we need now is for more Catholic school teachers to embrace that sublime vocation. What a dignity! What a grace! What a responsibility! With St. Paul, I pray: “May the God who has begun this good work in you bring it to completion.”
Reverend Peter M. J. Stravinskas, Ph.D., S.T.D., is founder and superior of the Priestly Society of Saint John Henry Cardinal Newman, a clerical association dedicated to holiness through the renewal of priestly life, the sacred liturgy, and Catholic education. He has authored or edited more than 50 books and 600 articles. This essay is an adaptation of a homily delivered to Catholic school leaders.