The Kingdom of God...

...is like the yeast a woman took and mixed in with  three measures of flour until it was leavened through. Matthew 13:33

The children in the atrium spend quite a bit of time pondering this parable. Almost every session, a child will set up a work space, get the material from the shelf and ask Sarah to read the scripture before carefully measuring out three measures of flour into two glass bowls. One bowl will have a small measure of yeast added before mixing a bit of water into each bowl. They think about the yeast - could we take it back out? Can we still see it? What did Jesus mean by these words? How is the Kingdom like the leaven? They'll take the containers to the counter, cover them with a towel and mostly ignore them until the end of the session. When we gather for prayer, the child who's chosen the work will retrieve the bowls. We marvel at the overflowing bowl of the leavened dough and compare it to the unchanged dough in the other bowl. Again, we wonder what secret that reveals about the Kingdom of God - the Kingdom of Heaven.

Today, one of the children discovered that the leavened dough was stretchy and another discovered its stickiness. Their words caused me to contemplate God's tenacious love for us. Later I was reminded of the pervasiveness of yeast. This microscopic fungus happily migrates to affect its neighbors. Even wild yeast can be collected relatively easily. The Kingdom is here and all around us, affecting the world even when we don't see it. We know how this story ends and I am so very grateful.

Jerusalem

After years of procrastination, I finally tackled the topographical map of Jerusalem. It isn't meant to be a perfect replica, rather to convey the sense that Jerusalem had an upper and lower city, waterways, and important locations in the life of our Lord. The prior model was a plain wooden board that contained the outlines for the wooden models of the buildings and walls, as seen in the upper photo. It was a magnet, especially for little boys, who treated it as a puzzle. In the atrium, materials are to invite meditation not to elicit a particular skill, so I knew I had work to do. The children were instantly drawn to our new work, and have really displayed a surprising gentleness.

Today, I was fascinated by an almost four year old who very meticulously placed the various pieces from the relief map to the mute map. She talked to herself the entire time, and clearly knew the name of each piece and what it represented. We give many of the presentations to the children individually, and for the past few weeks she's stopped by to observe for a few minutes when I was giving the presentation to others, but never chose to have it presented herself. Clearly she took it all in in her own time. Another reminder that there is only one true Teacher in the atrium :-)

For more information on this work, you can check out the parent resources at the national association.

We are called by name...

During our last atrium session, a child asked the catechist to present the Good Shepherd. One of the Montessori precepts is keeping movement and talking separate. Thus, we read and then pause when the child moves the material. In the atrium, the figure of the Good Shepherd is kept standing in the sheepfold and the sheep are in a box when the material is not in use. Generally the children begin the Good Shepherd work by taking the sheep out of their box and placing them in the sheepfold with the shepherd, and then the catechist begins to proclaim the scripture. This time, the child set up the work by placing all the sheep on the outside of the sheepfold and waited for the catechist to join her.

"The Good Shepherd calls his own sheep by name..." 

Only then did she move the sheep into the fold.


As I was reflecting on the small difference in the way the child interacted with the material, I was struck by the truth of that moment. Our name is proclaimed at our Baptism and then we become part of the fold. Once again, a child revealed the truth of our faith to me. Thank you, Good Shepherd, for the gift of the child.

Listen to the Children

In the atrium, we've been unpacking the gestures of the Mass and the Biblical account of the last supper. The work of the last supper involves the cenacle, or upper room, 12 apostles, Jesus, a table set with a cloth, 2 candles, a miniature paten and miniature chalice. Together we contemplate as Jesus celebrates the Last Supper, a meal he had "longed to share," and speaks beautiful words of love for the very first time - "This is my body....this is my blood." 

Then came the day of Unleavened Bread on which the Passover lamb had to be sacrificed.  Jesus sent Peter and John, saying, “Go and make preparations for us to eat the Passover.”

“Where do you want us to prepare for it?” they asked.

 He replied, “As you enter the city, a man carrying a jar of water will meet you. Follow him to the house that he enters, and say to the owner of the house, ‘The Teacher asks: Where is the guest room, where I may eat the Passover with my disciples?’ He will show you a large room upstairs, all furnished. Make preparations there.”

They left and found things just as Jesus had told them. So they prepared the Passover. ~ Luke 22:7-13

When evening came, Jesus arrived with the Twelve...While they were eating, Jesus took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to his disciples, saying, “Take it; this is my body.”

Then he took a cup, and when he had given thanks, he gave it to them, and they all drank from it.

 “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many." After singing songs of praise, they went out to the Mount of Olives." ~ Mark 14:17, 22-24, 26

After reading the scripture, the catechist tells the child that in the Garden Jesus was arrested and the next day, he was crucified and died. The Good Shepherd gave his life for the sheep and for a brief moment darkness overcame the light (at that point, we put a small crucifix on the Last Supper table.) We know that wasn't the end of the story....
Often the child proclaims that Jesus rose, which was the case last Sunday. After contemplating the scene, now empty of people but containing a crucifix on the table, the little one asked, "Can I put him back? He rose!" She put Jesus back into the scene and, after pondering for a time, she very deliberately and slowly added the apostles back into the room. 

How beautifully she proclaimed the physical presence of the Risen Christ among us! Thank you Jesus, for the theology of the children

He was so Lonely!

There are many times when the insight and theology of the children gives me pause. As catechists, we receive these responses as gifts, knowing instinctively that we've been offered a glimpse into the conversation between God and the Child.

This past Sunday, a child and my co-catechist were reflecting on the Found Sheep, Luke 15:4-6. They wondered together about the moment when the sheep and shepherd were reunited. Softly, the child spoke of the sheep's joy. "He was happy.....he was so lonely when he was lost." In the past, I've often heard the children speak about the sheep's fear at being lost, most likely a reflection of their own fear when they lose sight of a parent. This was the first time loneliness has been lifted out. As an adult, I'm unpacking this in light of recent tragedies and can't help but think that loneliness played no small part. We are created for relationship. How will we reflect the joy we find in Christ to those around us this week?

I'm still pondering the absolute truth of that young girl's insight as I quote Catherine Doherty, "Lord, give me the heart of a child, and the awesome courage to live it out..." 

Settling in...

We are nearing Advent, and the children have settled into Atrium life. A catechist greets them at the door, asking what work they are being called to that day. It is beautiful to watch them walk in find their chosen work with confidence. They are now adept at cleaning spills, being mindful of others, and waiting if the work they've chosen is being used by someone else.

If you happen to come by, you'll probably be struck by the silence. You may see a child contemplating the gifts of Baptism with a catechist, another quietly asking an adult to light the candles at the altar, or someone meditating with the Good Shepherd materials. Other children are engaged in practical life activities - caring for a plant, washing cloths, polishing, or mixing colors.
A child may ask a question and the common response you would hear would be, "I wonder," or "What do you think?"

Not answering questions is a hard discipline, but allows for contemplation and wonder. Often the child's eventual response is so much more profound than the simple answer that was on the tip of my tongue. Sofia Cavalletti reminds us that a definition is the pin that immobilizes the butterfly :-)

If you'd like to observe, we ask that you come in quietly and sit in one of the chairs provided. Catechists are mindful that this space is a place of prayer and generally don't talk to one another during the atrium session. We're happy to chat with you outside or after the session is over.

New Beginnings!

The Holy Spirit definitely keeps me on my toes! The past year has been filled with both sorrow and joy, as one door closed and another opened. The upstairs floor of the RE building at a nearby parish was my home away from home for 11 years. My younger children roamed those hallways and made cherished friends. At one point, I saw myself as an old person, still sitting on the floor upstairs, unpacking scripture with young theologians.  The Good Shepherd has been whispering my name, calling me to trust and head forth. First to say yes to the role of formation leader, and then to then to walk away from someone else's vision of catechesis. I felt a bit like a storm tossed traveler when I briefly greeted the new pastor at my home parish. "Have you heard of the Catechesis of the Good Shepherd?" "No." "It's a Montessori based catechesis for children aged 3 to 12 and I'd like you to come and and see." He said "Yes," followed by "When can we start?"

There were space constraints, there were time constraints, there are beautiful programs already in place... "Trust," nudged the Holy Spirit. So here we are, starting again. I love making materials! Sofia was right when she urged catechists to work with their hands. It's a meditative, contemplative time that draws one ever deeper into scripture. I also love meeting young moms, who love their children beyond measure. People have brought me to tears with their generosity. People from 3 parishes have helped build furniture! I'm humbled by the love I've been shown.

So here we are, just a few short weeks from our very first session! Rick Zapf solved both the time and space constraints with his generous offer of the former youth room. It makes an absolutely perfect atrium. We will start slowly - Sarah and I as lead catechists with beautiful children all new to the atrium. Thank you, Holy Spirit, thank you Good Shepherd, and thank you God the Father for loving us so abundantly!

 "...the atrium is not only a place for announcement and celebration, it is also a place for work. It is a particular environment in which work easily becomes meditation and prayer." ~ Gianna Gobbi