A Steep Learning Curve

Early in my return to the Church I began binge watching The Journey Home on YouTube, drawn to the love stories of former atheists, New Agers, Protestants, Buddhists, Muslims, and, like me, once-fallen-away Catholics, all hungry now to learn and grow in their faith.

The stories covered a lot of ground, but often enough to confirm a point or settle a question, the host or a guest would agree on one source called “the Catechism,”[1] and soon enough I wanted a copy for myself.

And then it arrived. And I tore through the packaging, and I sagged. The Catechism of the Catholic Church is inches thick. Encyclopedic. Chapter after chapter of text with not one illustration. Just the table of contents ran for pages, and though I was daunted I was not undone because by now I knew to ask for help. Mentally sending up a flare, I leafed the pages to chapter one in section one, and read the first line.

“The desire for God is written in the human heart because man is created by God for God; and God never ceases to draw man to himself.”

Pierced to my heart, I kept reading. “When he listens to the message of creation and to the voice of conscience, man can arrive at certainty about the existence of God, the cause and end of everything.”[2] 

On I read the timeless language, inhaling the centuries-rich mix of love, knowledge, scholarship, lived experience, and church councils guarding the “deposit of faith.”[3]

The help I’d asked for came from Father Mike Schmitz, a voice familiar to me from The Bible in a Year podcast.[4] I downloaded The Catechism in a Year[5] to the same effect. Episode by episode, topic by topic, my ignorance and arrogance melted into gratitude, understanding, and humility.

Did I say humility? Humility and intermittent frustration. So much to know. One day, overwhelmed by the history and breadth and details of my growing faith, in another book I read: “Spiritual growth takes time. Imagine a farmer or gardener standing out in the field and yelling down at some recently planted seeds: ‘Grow faster, you fools! Faster!’”[6] 

My podcast listening fell into a rhythm, though the content could still throw up hurdles. Over time, as I’d trip on a difficult section or idea, I’d quote to myself from an invaluable list put out by Ken Hensley, a Catholic convert and former Baptist pastor:

1.   I’m not sure I understand this teaching correctly.

2.   If I do understand it correctly, at this point I can’t see how it is true.

3.   Nevertheless, I am willing to trust that the Church, over its 2,000 years, might have a better insight than I do.

4.   Therefore, I am willing to accept the teaching even though I do not fully understand it or how it could be true—trusting that, given enough time, prayer, and study, I will understand more fully.”[7]

My brother plays Nerdle, a sort of Wordle for math types, so it’s both easy and hard. Playing it reminds me of two truths. One is that the early easy answers help solve tougher problems later.  Two, some tough problems, just by our going away for a while, may become more obvious.

Faith is like Nerdle in the way that early insights on prayer, God, love, and obedience, for instance, can pave the road to higher and broader understanding. Also, in the way that a hurdle can force me to pray, ponder, listen, and practice discernment and patience, my understanding of my faith can benefit from giving it time.

God’s ways are not our ways, but from Wordle to more advanced theology, if I hang in and both work at it and relax, bit by bit and prayer by prayer, the truths add up.

[1] Pope John Paul II said that the Catechism "is offered to all the faithful who want to understand better the inexhaustible riches of salvation."  USCCB.org 

[2] CCC46

[3] CCC84

[4] Ascension Press

[5] Ibid.

[6] John Bartunek, The Better Part: A Christ-Centered Resource for Personal Prayer, Ministry 23, LLC, 2014, p.381

[7] On the Journey with Matt and Ken and Kenny, Podcast episode 107, one-hour mark