At 65 years of age, it is curious to me how so much of life is forgotten and yet key memories stay alive. One such memory for me is a single moment in a Sunday school class when I was 8 years old and living in Bangkok, Thailand. My family went to Mass every Sunday, and after Mass, my sister and I would go to CCD—Catholic Sunday school.
So this one particular Sunday, I remember going into a small, poorly lit concrete-walled classroom with a small group of other children my age. I recall a beautiful young mom beginning the class with a question: “If someone asked you who Jesus was, what would you say to them?” She waited. I came up blank. I really wished I had the answer! I must have wondered, “Why don’t I know?!” but I must also have thought to myself, “Yay—this is the day I get to find out!”
Now, thinking back, perhaps I was not as ignorant as I thought. The year prior to this, I received my First Communion and First Confession. I knew that Jesus was the One I was receiving, in some mysterious way. I knew it was something very special and something of which I did not feel worthy. Confession was the place I would tell my sins to the priest and receive a complete and full forgiveness from Jesus so that my heart would be clean with all my sins wiped away. Somehow I had learned this. But at that moment, as I recall, I was convinced I did not know who Jesus was.
For the next hour, my mind kept drifting away. That happened to me a lot when I was young. When people were talking or when a book was read aloud, I would often come to the end and have no recollection of what it was about. Maybe it was trauma, depression, or perhaps ADD. I’m not sure. All I know is that I found it very difficult to pay close attention during class or to remember what was said. And that is what happened that Sunday. At the end of the class, she said, “And now you know how to answer the question, ‘Who is Jesus?’”
“Darn it,” I thought. “I still don’t know the answer! I wish I had listened better.” I knew it was an important question. In fact, I wanted to know the answer. I wanted to know who Jesus was, why He was hanging on the Cross, and likely, more importantly, deep down within me, I wondered whether I could know Him and be known by Him.
Something I have learned from teaching young children is that before starting a unit of study, it really helps to “activate background knowledge.” You ask students what they already know. Let’s say the subject is electricity. You might ask, “What do you already know or think you know?” and very often, students will stare blankly and think they don’t really know anything. Then you say, “Where is it?” “Have you seen it before? When?” As they begin to call out answers, more answers come.
Maybe, if my Sunday school teacher had prompted me with more specific questions, I would have been able to come up with some answers, at least in part. “Who is Jesus? Where have you seen Him? What does He look like? What has He said or done?”
There were some things I would have known:
He was a holy Baby, laid in a manger. He was the son of Mary and Joseph. The whole world knows Him because once a year people celebrate His holy birth. We have manger scenes to remember this important event. There is something magnificent and good and wondrous about His birth. The angels were there singing praises to God. The shepherds came to worship Him. The kings came from afar with gifts for this Baby in a barn—laid in a manger. I remember I looked with awe at this lowly, holy family in crèche scenes, because there was love, peace, and tenderness among them.
I also knew that Jesus was a man who spoke words of life. Every week at Mass we stood to hear the Gospel readings. I longed to understand these words. Something inside me believed these words contained the meaning of life.
Jesus suffered. I could see His suffering and His eyes of love as He hung on the cross. There were people who hated Him and were cruel to Him. But I also knew He rose from the dead! Such tremendous power! Such hope!
I believed He was present in the Eucharist—that we could receive Him into our hearts in this way. Though the host looked like a wafer, through the prayers of the priest, that wafer became the flesh and blood of Jesus Christ. This was a mystery—a miracle. I didn’t understand it, but by some grace, I believed it.
So I did know something!
Though my faith in Him at that time was just in seedling form, so undeveloped, that hunger to know Him was there in me, and it has remained. I know Him now. And I still long to know Him. If anyone asked me today who Jesus is, I could say with joy and faith, “He is the Son of God and the Son of Man! He is the Alpha and the Omega. The Bright Morning Star. The Savior of the World. The King of Kings and Lord of Lords. He is the Bread of Life. The Living Water. He is Love. He is Mercy. He is Goodness. He is the Word Incarnate. He is my Lord and my Friend. He is my Way, my Truth, and my Life.”
Link to the hymn: Vaughan Williams - The Call
The Call
By George Herbert
Come, my Way, my Truth, my Life:
Such a Way as gives us breath;
Such a Truth as ends all strife;
Such a Life as killeth death.
Come, my Light, my Feast, my Strength:
Such a Light as shows a feast;
Such a Feast as mends in length;
Such a Strength as makes his guest.
Come, my Joy, my Love, my Heart:
Such a Joy as none can move;
Such a Love as none can part;
Such a Heart as joys in love.
Amen and amen!