A Life Reviewed | My Legacy of Faith
In which Teófilo reflects about the Catholic faith he leaves to his children.
I believe in Jesus Christ
Being a Catholic Christian has never been popular. From the very start, Jesus of Nazareth—the focus of the Church’s worship—has inspired both wonder and mockery. Things haven't changed much. They remain the same today.
I am a man of faith. Though I wandered from the Church a few times, I always came back—for one simple reason: I can’t ignore Jesus Christ. The question He asked his disciples He asks of me today:
Who do you say that I am? (Matthew 16:15)
There are three classical answers to this question: 1. He was a madman. 2. He was evil. 3. He was who He said He was: the unique Son of God, consubstantial with the Father, and savior of the world.
This argument is known as Lewis Trilemma in honor of C.S. Lewis, but others did say the same thing before. Catholic philosopher Dr. Peter Kreeft has been one of its strongest defenders.
I'm not going to get into a debate of pros and cons about the Trilemma. That's for others to do. The Trilemma is a good summary of objections to Jesus' identity. After exploring science, philosophy, world religions, and biblical criticism, one thing is clear to me: Jesus is who He said He is. Once I reached that conclusion in heart and mind, I couldn't remain indifferent to Jesus nor to His Gospel.
The Creed I believe in
I'm a man of the Nicene Creed. I believe all it, no clause exempted. The Nicene Creed is the best summary of my Catholic faith. The Creed is a good statement, not only of what we believe, but of who we are. There are other important creeds out there, but the Nicene Creed stands out as the most important of them. I believe the Nicene Creed with divine, Catholic faith.
My duty as a Catholic father
I believe Catholic parents have a clear responsibility: to pass on the faith they’ve received to their children. If Jesus is who He says He is, then there's nothing more important than to teach one's children about Him. Nothing excuses this duty.
Our faithful Hebrew and Jewish ancestors did so: handing down the faith is in our spiritual DNA. Betraying this duty is betraying our very selves. For God is Love, and we should love Him back with all our strength, mind, and soul. Love imposes upon us a duty of love. Not to love Him signifies our eternal loss. I see no more important important legacy to leave my children as this legacy of faith.
A duty I discharged, shoddily.
I have no doubt I didn't do my best when I handed down the Faith to my sons. My phases of questioning, of cold or lukewarm practice made an impression on them. I tried to correct my inconsistent practice by doing "information dumps" in long talks. After the talks I tried to be the man I portrayed as an ideal in those talks, but I failed. Often.
It's taken many years and many pains and sufferings for my Faith to mature and remain stable. The strengthening and stability in my faith life came after the terror attacks of 9/11. Chris became an adult not long after the attacks, thus, my time of effective fatherhood ended as he came of age. Jon was young and by then we could afford Catholic school for him, so he had the best exposure to the faith of the two.
Still, how well did I do in imprinting the Faith on them became evident at the time of their own testing. Without sharing details that are theirs to tell, I’ve watched them make choices shaped more by other standards than by the Faith I'd tried to pass on to them. The consequences remain unfathomable.
I know they are adults and that they're responsible before God for their own decisions. I know I can't take decisions for them. In fact, at the moment they became adults they also became more sons of God than of mine. Their decisions and the consequences of their decisions aren't mine to fend off.
I can't help to feel myself in part responsible for their choices. Wasn't I inconsistent myself in my love of Christ during the life I shared with them? Wasn't I lukewarm, even cynical at times in the practice of my Catholic lifestyle? And how about my own legacy of pain that I was unable to protect them from? When all these things come into the mix, how effective was my witness to Christ before their eyes? I wouldn’t blame them for seeing me as a well-meaning hypocrite—a weak example of the Love I claim to believe in.
Late have I loved You
Saint Augustine once said:
Late have I loved you, beauty so old and so new: late have I loved you.
I too learned to love the Lord with all my heart, mind, and strength too late to set the best example for my boys. My Mercie has exercised great patience with me and has always supported me in my ups and downs. Only she'd come to known my inner tumults, the lights, as well as the darknesses.
But the boys never peeked inside me, they took from me only the external facts. There's nothing wrong with that, that's how it should be when raising children. A father must be a son's indestructible superhero. The time comes when they question what they held true until the time of doubt. They're only left with the external facts, and my "facts" weren't the best when it came to living the faith.
Yes, I learned to love the Lord at my best too late to influence my sons. That's my own fault which is now ingrained in their own souls. Now they also have that to fight against, within their own characters.
I now believe, hope, and love God better, not free from personal blunders and defects, but I sense I'm doing better. Faith, love, and hope keep me waiting for my sons to rediscover their faith—for their own good, and for their children’s.
This, I pray of late. The world is growing ever more evil. The good is being suffocated, eclipsed. The world is calling “evil” what is good, and “good” what is evil. Faith is the only shield they’ll have to resist the onslaught. Love is the only thing that will raise them over the rest. I pray, pray hard for them as they wax, and I wane. My legacy of Faith to them may yet grow and mature, and God will save them.