Catechesis as unlearning. Unlearning as story. And catechesis as the greatest story ever told.
Elie Wiesel, Holocaust survivor and Nobel Peace Price recipient said: God made man because he loves stories.
We’ve lost the story of catechesis. It’s not wrote. “The word of God is living and effective, sharper than any two-edged sword, penetrating even between soul and spirit, joints and marrow, and able to discern reflections and thoughts of the heart” (Hebrews 4:12).
It’s in you and in me. What do we need to unlearn, to decrustate in order to reach the penetration of soul and spirit and discernment of heart this story offers?
We can’t think our way into unlearning. We story our way into it. It has to be a certain kind of story telling.
Stories where people communicate answers to other peoples’ “problems” are lazy (at best) and implicitly hold judgement (at worst). They are antithetical to unlearning because they put the audience in a posture of conflict. Conflict around whether the listener’s values, beliefs, and judgements agree with the storytellers propositions. Stories that force solutions on others create reactions rather than reflection. And unlearning can only happen in reflection.
I recently enjoyed coffee with a friend who’s life has been spent in journalism. I enjoy his worldview, and because he’s a journalist practitioner, he understands that conversation (like writing) is about showing rather than telling. He doesn’t go on long tangential stories. That’s a monologue, which closely resembles the solution-based stories described above.
He shares anecdotes from his life to illumine his beliefs and practices. An example was talking about two institutions of higher learning in our local area. I have strong opinions based on my experience about one of them. He spoke about encounters with students and personnel at both, and about their wider felt influence in the community. In describing the one around which I held strong opinions he said, “They have a culture and the other one does not. I know that being a part of that institution, one would have to agree with the powers who stage that culture, but having a culture is better than not having one at all.” He held up his own reflective mirror based on experience that invited me to gauge and evaluate my own reflection found therein. Although I still hold beliefs that may be different than his, there was no conflict, only dialogue based on reflection of experience. A small unlearning shifted in me, and maybe in him too.
Stories that reflect a piece of us back to ourselves offer deep sparks of unlearning. These stories are best shared in community. They ignite self disclosure in a way that is gentle, enlightening, and invigorating. They not only provoke and exorcise what needs to die, but also what needs to live.
I was going through a difficult time this week and I read something that said: “When a man comes to you and tells you your own story, you know that your sins are forgiven. And when you are forgiven, you are healed” (Kurtz & Ketcham, p. 67). We have lost the story of catechesis. When we find people who are showing us, and not telling us this story, it incites life, bravery, and hope. That is exactly what happens in the decalibrating work of unlearning. Others stories, honestly shared, tell me my own story. I am found and healed.
References
Kurtz, E., & Ketcham, K. (1992). The spirituality of imperfection: Modern wisdom from classic stories. Bantam Books.
