Amazing Catechists

Teaching and learning the faith together

The Seven Deadly Sins, Quite By Accident

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Sin
Last week, one of my fifth-graders asked what the seven deadly sins were. Always one to tap into their googling abilities, I tossed the question back at them, promising a candy prize for anyone who came back to class this week with the right answer.

The boy who posed the question came in, not only with the answer, but with a list he had typed himself with the punishments in hell included. His mom told me, with a strange smile on her face, that he had been obsessing about it all week.

Two other students had also looked up the answers and one of them was prepared to explain them. It was obvious these kids had spent some time on this.

Our discussion was intense, colorful, and, I hope, Spirit-filled. Most of the sins were things that the kids weren’t sure about: how is pride both good and a deadly sin? What is lust? And gluttony means being fat, right?

Our topic for the night was “Living as Children of God,” and I had planned to talk about both 1 John 3:1-10 and the Beatitudes, with a discussion of God’s love and how we can be protected from sin. Of course, I didn’t know that when I challenged them to let me know what the seven deadly sins were.

Next week, I’ve challenged my students to bring in the corresponding virtues for each of the seven deadly sins. Looking over the list, I have to admit that there’s something about this whole topic that speaks to me.

So often, I think my sins are tiny little things. Then I look at the confession habits of those holy moderns, Blessed John Paul II and Blessed Mother Teresa, and I realize that my sins are anything but inconsequential.

Looking over the seven deadly sins and the corresponding virtues and then discussing it in an up-front, honest, down-to-earth way with a room full of fifth graders is almost an examination of my own conscience. Considering how often I flirt with these Big Seven Sins is humbling, to say the least, and also a reminder to me of how very much I need the sacraments, especially of Reconciliation.

YOUR TURN: Have you covered the seven deadly sins with your students? How did it go? Have any tips to share?

An Object Lesson for Teaching Sacraments

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Last night, I introduced a lesson on the sacraments to my class of rowdy 5th graders using an object lesson, and I thought I’d share it here

Credit and thanks for this idea goes to Rick Paolini from the Divine Mercy Podcast (found on iTunes). I heard him talk about this in episode 18 and will be using this with the Confirmation Boot Camp group this summer as well. In fact, I will pretty much be using it whenever I can.

You’ll need:

  • 2 strong magnets (or even a bunch of smaller ones, which I sort of used in one presentation)
  • A pencil
  • A long nail (preferably as long as the pencil)
  • A bowl of small metal items that will be attracted to the magnets (i.e., brads or small nails) —  These need to be much smaller than the large nail
  • If you can swing it (I didn’t think of it until too late this time around), a dirt-covered nail the same size as the large nail

Hold two strong (large-ish is preferable) magnets close to each other.

Note how they attract and repel each other.

We can see both magnets. We can prove they’re there.

But what about that force? Is it still there? We can’t see it: are we SURE it’s there?

The magnets and the force between them represent the Trinity. The magnets are the Father and the Son, and the invisible force they make together is the Holy Spirit.

–> Just because you can’t see the Holy Spirit doesn’t mean he’s not there. He is, and he makes a big impact.

Hold a pencil by the magnets.

What happens? How do the magnets affect the pencil?

What if we dipped the pencil in metal? Hold up a long nail.

How does this change things?

–> This is what happens to us in baptism. The waters of baptism make us attracted to God just as the metal of the nail is attracted to the magnets. The field between the magnets is the grace that is all around us, that we are able to tap into, thanks to the sacrament of baptism.

Pretend we were to chip pieces off the magnet, but as we did it, it was able to replace the lost pieces so that it never gets any larger or smaller. The chipped pieces, though, are attracted to the nail. (I had some small, round magnets in a large clump and I used some of those to make this even more visual.)

What would happen to the nail? How would it change?

–> Just as the nail gets magnetized by the small chips off the magnet, so we are magnetized and pulled closer to the Trinity when we receive the Eucharist.

Put the two magnets in a bowl of small brads or nails and pull them out.

What happens?

The brads are hanging down in a long string, holding on to each other.

–> That’s what happens at Confirmation. In our role within the Body of Christ, we become part of the work of evangelization. We hold onto God and stretch down to someone else.

Imagine that the nail was covered in dirt. 

Would it be attracted to the magnets in the same way? What would happen?

When we sin–especially mortal sin–we become less magnetized, less attracted to God. The sin comes between us and God.

–> Reconciliation recharges us, cleans us off so that we are attracted to the magnet again.

The sacraments strengthen us, and we must never forget how essential they are to our faith life. It’s all too easy to blow off the importance of them, to make excuses for letting ourselves turn into the equivalent of a dirty nail.

Have ideas for adding to this lesson? I’d love to hear your input in the comments!

image source

Immacu-what?

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I was standing at the front of the class, fresh out of Mass. I’d like to say it was a room of fresh-faced fifth graders, but the truth was, we were all tired.

I asked them who had been at Mass.

A few hands went up.

“And why were you at Mass? What were we celebrating?”

“Advent!” They were triumphant. They were confident. They were sure.

And they were WRONG.

Our Mass last night was the Vigil for the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception, but I didn’t tell them that. Realizing that we had a slight misunderstanding about when Mass was, I tried rewording my question, rephrasing my expectation, hinting and hinting.

One of the students (whose mom is an aide in the class and who sat right behind my family in Mass) knew that it was a Holy Day of Obligation.

Good.

But no one–NO ONE–knew WHY we were at Mass.

It wasn’t in my plan for the evening to talk about the Immaculate Conception. I do have a habit of sending them home with a bit of trivia and rewarding them with chocolate prizes if they come the following week with the correct answer. And so this week’s trivia was to come back next week and tell me what holy day we were celebrating this week.

But wow…I had a moment there in front of that class. I couldn’t help but wonder if my own children (ages 6, 4, and 1) had any idea what we were doing in Mass. (I’m pretty sure no.) I started, in fact, to have a little mental bash-fest with what a failure I am as a catechist to these fifth-graders and to my own children.

But wait! It’s not too late! TODAY is the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, and, thankfully for all of us, there’s next year, and the year after, and…well, it’s an ongoing thing for us. When we fail (as we will), we must not give in to the temptation to despair and give up.

When my six-year-old gets home from school today, we’ll be doing some of her very favorite things: coloring. Because to her, nothing says “fun” like a printable.

While I’m at it, I’m going to do some reading about the Immaculate Conception, so that I’m prepared to explain it to my fifth-graders next week. In case you need some resources too, here are the ones I’m using:

Now, let’s all say a Hail Mary for our catechetical work and lean back into Mary’s arms. She’s the best one to carry us, after all, and she’s sure to lead us to her Son.

Jumping Back into the Teaching Saddle

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It all started in high school, I suppose. I was inspired by a teacher who went above and beyond, and I was at the point when I needed to choose a college and a major, so agricultural education it was, at our state’s land grant university.

Fast forward three years, to my student teaching. It can be summarized this way: I was convinced not to teach.

After a few years in industry, I became an active, practicing Catholic, and when our DRE approached me about teaching, I couldn’t say no.

I wanted to, mind you. What did I know about teaching third graders (my training was with high schoolers), and how could I possible know enough about my new Catholic faith (the one I had been so reluctant about) to teach anyone else?

I ended up having a wonderful three years of teaching third grade religious education for our parish, but then the demands of being a new wife and mom made an evening commitment like that more than I could handle.

This summer, I had the opportunity to teach for the first time in almost eight years. It was a group of Confirmation students for our annual Confirmation boot camp. I was excited and a bit nervous.

I had such a good time, I couldn’t keep myself from offering, for a variety of “reasons,” to teach 5th grade this year. I walked into the first class flying high on a cocktail of delight and anxiety.

What if I was no good? What if this wouldn’t work for my family? What if…what if…what if?

Well, as I’ve struggled to straddle the ole teaching saddle again, I’ve found two things to be true and often forgotten in my own approach to catechesis:

1. It’s not about me.

and

2. The Holy Spirit has it all under control.

As catechists, we are all woefully under-prepared, no matter how ready we think we are. Nothing gets you ready for a group of young people (or, for that matter, older people either). You will never have it all under control, because, among other things, that’s just not in your capacity. Only God can have things completely under control.

Being a catechist is an ongoing lesson in trusting God, and for that I’m grateful.

(And terrified.)

image credit: Study Abroad Domain