Chosen: Praying with St. John’s Gospel to Prepare for the School Year

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Each of us longs to be noticed, to stand out, to be pursued, to be desired. Each of us longs to be chosen. We want others to look at us and say, “You! I choose you for my team. I want you.” I’ve been reflecting on this longing lately, and just like those other internal longings, this is one that never truly goes away, even though it may lie dormant for a time. Created to be utterly satisfied only in heaven, it may be more apt to call it an “ache” than anything.

As Catholic Christians, we have the incredible privilege of living the “already but not yet” of the end times. In a certain sense, we are already with the Father in heaven whenever we unite with Jesus, who is there now. But we’re not fully with the Father yet, hence the ache. In the same way, we are already chosen by God, but we cannot yet feel that chosenness with the certainty that the saints in heaven do. 

In St. John’s Gospel, after washing his disciples’ feet, Jesus tells them many things, including this beautiful verse, Jn 15:16: “It was not you who chose me, but I who chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit that will remain, so that whatever you ask the Father in my name he may give you.” Wow. He chose us. He wanted us, even in our mess, confusion, and frustration. He wanted us. This choice was so intentional, so absolute, that hours after articulating it, Jesus literally died on the cross for us, the ones for whom he said, “I thirst”(Jn 19:28). Lest we be tempted to think that Jesus chose us but didn’t really mean it, he proved it by offering up his very body and blood.

This makes every Friday a precious day for us to share with our students, a day when we celebrate our chosenness by standing at the foot of the cross and saying “thank you.” A couple Lents ago, I tried reading one station of the cross each Friday as our opening class prayer, and it was powerful. Sixteen and seventeen-year-olds want to be reassured that they’ve been chosen just as much as I do. It was for these crazily lovable teens that the Lord appointed me to go and bear fruit that will remain, the verse says. Your students, too, are the fruit of your labor in the classroom–those quiet mornings when your head keeps drooping over your desk while you try to plow through a stack of papers before they come in; those loud Friday afternoons when you have to take a deep breath and remind yourself that this, too, shall pass at the blessed 3:15 bell.

Your personal relationship with Jesus is fertile ground on which they can grow as his chosen ones, and you can teach them how to remain in him through daily prayer, taking them to Adoration when you can, and looking at them the way he does. And let’s acknowledge it: There really is nothing more stunning than walking into the back of the school chapel at the end of the day and seeing one of “your kids” kneeling up in front. 

The best part? Whatever we ask the Father in Jesus’s name, he will give us! As we prepare to begin another academic year, let’s bring our class lists before him and give each student back to him. He’s chosen us, and he’s chosen each one of them. That’s a love that we can remain in with our students, now and forever.

When Our Students Suffer: How to Keep the Faith

A Meditation on Pope Benedict’s Address to Catholic Educators at The Catholic University of America

Address delivered on April 17, 2008

I can’t count the number of times that I have worried about a student. Maybe it was the high school freshman who worked so hard to hide the cut marks on his wrist, the student who slept during every study hall and any class she could get away with because she was dealing with untreated mental illness and an unsupportive family, or the sweet, insecure kids who dilly-dallied on their way to lunch because they didn’t feel welcome at any table. Gosh, they steal our hearts, don’t they? 

I’m pregnant now and expecting my first biological child, but I feel like I’ve been a spiritual mom to many, many kids over my past eight years in the classroom. My own mom, a teacher at heart although on never professionally, has often reminded me that the greatest suffering is Mary’s suffering: standing at the foot of the cross and watching her beloved Son die. Our Lady must have felt so powerless. Absolutely powerless.

“How have you made it this far?” I’ve asked some of my more well-seasoned colleagues, pros who have been teachers for decades. It’s hard for all of us to put words around what keeps us going when we’re powerless in the face of the suffering of the one we love, even if we’re not related by blood. Pope Benedict, in his address to Catholic Educators at the Catholic University of America in 2008, said it’s all about entrusting ourselves to God. And of course, in entrusting our own hearts to God, we can give Him everyone on our hearts, including our students and their families.

I love how Pope Benedict put it:

“Yet we all know, and observe with concern, the difficulty or reluctance many people have today in entrusting themselves to God. It is a complex phenomenon and one which I ponder continually. While we have sought diligently to engage the intellect of our young, perhaps we have neglected the will. Subsequently we observe, with distress, the notion of freedom being distorted. Freedom is not an opting out. It is an opting in – a participation in being itself”(9).

Yes. We are all scared to entrust ourselves to a God we can’t see or hear. Sometimes it’s almost impossible for us to believe that He is a good God when we see the most vulnerable get hurt, and yet Mary believed He was good always, even when she held her dead son in her arms. Meditating on the Pietà or praying the Stations of the Cross or Divine Mercy Chaplet offer us pathways into this deep, mysterious faith, a faith that is now gloriously radiant in the Queen of our Resurrected Lord, our Regina Caeli.  

As educators, it’s tempting to use our freedom to opt out rather than opt in, to hold our students and their families at an emotional arm’s length because there is so much to suffer when you teach and share life with twenty to 120 students. But no, we must freely choose to share their struggles with them. We’re not the Savior (and never will be, thank heavens!), but we know the Savior, and we can invite Him into whatever our spiritual children experience.

Pope Benedict closed his address by saying, “To all of you I say: bear witness to hope. Nourish your witness with prayer. Account for the hope that characterizes your lives (cf. 1 Pet 3:15) by living the truth which you propose to your students. Help them to know and love the One you have encountered, whose truth and goodness you have experienced with joy”(20). Yes, we must pray each morning so that we go to school nourished and ready to witness. We must let Jesus encounter us again and again, especially in the questions and the aches that accompany all parenting, spiritual and physical. And we must account for the hope that characterizes our lives; namely, that He has risen, He is alive, and He walks with us and our students every step of the way.

Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI. “Meeting with Catholic Educators: Address of His Holiness Benedict XVI.” Apostolic Journey to the United States of America and Visit to the United Nations Organization Headquarters, 17 April 2018, The Catholic University of America, Washington, DC. Address.

*In-text citations refer to paragraph numbers added by this author for ease of location.
You may find the full address here: http://www.vatican.va/content/benedict-xvi/en/speeches/2008/april/documents/hf_ben-xvi_spe_20080417_cath-univ-washington.html

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