In our own archdiocesan Synod, and in the wider synodal movement promoted by Pope Francis in recent years, one of the great desires and needs of the faithful that emerged was for adult faith formation to equip us to be more confident and effective witnesses to the Gospel for a changing world.
If the Second Vatican Council (1962 – 65) was the most significant and influential development in the Catholic Church since the response to the Reformation made by the Council of Trent in the sixteenth century, then I believe that the most important development in the Church since Vatican II has been synodality.
In our own archdiocesan Synod, and in the wider synodal movement promoted by Pope Francis in recent years, one of the great desires and needs of the faithful that emerged was for adult faith formation to equip us to be more confident and effective witnesses to the Gospel for a changing world. At the same time one can claim that the experience of being involved in the synodal process is itself a real contribution to adult faith formation – when we consider synodality’s dependence on Scripture, listening, prayer, openness to the Holy Spirit, taking account of the life experience of the faithful, and attempt to discern the signs of the times and the will of God for our time and place.
These reflections on adult faith formation and its connection with synodality are not based on any theory of adult education or of evangelisation, catechesis, or RCIA, nor on any particular type of theology; they are simply a response to my three quarters of a century of life in the Church, from childhood to old age.
Three closely connected but different questions are worth asking:
(1) How is our faith transforming our lives?
(2) How is our faith being transformed during our lives? And
(3) How is our faith transforming the world around us?
The first question (how is our faith transforming our lives?) is about to what degree we can honestly say that all our major decisions and priorities are taken in the light of our faith – how does our faith really influence our relationships, what we spend money on, the work we choose to do, how we vote, what we give our time to. In other words, is our faith something more than icing on a cake, an additional component to an otherwise “normal” life, one that is lived by someone without Christian faith? Does our faith entirely permeate and guide all our activities or does it serve only to add an extra “layer” (rather like a part-time hobby)?
The second question (how is our faith being transformed during our lives?) is about to what degree we can claim that our faith is still deepening, still maturing, still being modified by life’s experiences and through our encounter with others. One of the differences between adult learning and the learning of children and younger people is that we expect learning at an earlier stage of life to be heavily directed and guided by older people put in positions of trust and authority by the community, whereas we expect mature people to accept responsibility for their own ongoing learning.
This applies to faith-learning among Christians as much as it does to secular learning. But we have not always been very effective at - or put much emphasis on – conveying an expectation that Christians should be constantly willing to deepen their understanding of the bearing of their faith on their life in the Church and in the world. As if we already know enough when we leave formal education, at sixteen or eighteen or twenty-one or whatever – about our faith and its implications for life. Faith does not stand still; it is either continuing to grow, become deeper and more mature, or it is receding, losing its purchase on us and becoming more superficial. Faith either continues to penetrate more deeply into all we think and do or it peters out steadily without our realizing it. There is no age we can reach when we can say that we are now fully converted, that we have arrived at the fullness of faith, that we have plumbed the depths of the mysteries at the heart of our faith.
The third question (how is our faith transforming our world?) asks us the hard question about what difference, if any, we are making to the people around us, the communities to which we belong. To what extent are we offering salt or light to others? To what extent are we, as Christians, acting as a leaven in our society, witnessing to a way of life that mirrors the Kingdom that Jesus proclaimed? This is very hard to do on our own; we need the support, example and encouragement of our fellow Christians. Are we well-equipped to connect our faith to the changing needs and challenges of the kind of society we are now living in? Is our faith visible and relevant in that society?
As the Czech Catholic priest, Tomáš Halík, has written recently: “Every Christian, through baptism, participates in the priestly role of Christ: to announce God’s self-giving love to the world. Every Christian is called to make Christ present, to represent Christ in this world.”[1]
In the formation of Christians, have we tended to so emphasize – and put resources into – schools and young people – that we have neglected giving attention to ongoing adult faith formation? And have we, as a Christian community, depended so much on the formation and leadership of clergy that we have failed to supply the resources or energy needed to support and encourage multiple ways to help adults to continue to grow in understanding of their faith throughout life?
We are not an elitist Church, existing only for the perfect few. We often have to fan the wavering flames of faith (in ourselves and in others) rather than castigate people for their half-heartedness.
In the end we are engaged in the Lord's work, not ours; and it can only be done in and with the Lord's power, not by our varied and often very fragile gifts and energies. No single one of us can adequately understand or explain everything the Church believes, but we can help each other to grow in our understanding and appreciation of the treasures of our tradition – and in our ability to put these into practice and to share them with others. Mature faith (as compared with merely enthusiastic faith) has to be ready to accept (in the sense of bear with and relate sensitively to) less than the best we desire, be patient when faced by slowness to engage, intermittent commitment, and often fairly superficial levels of understanding. God is endlessly patient with us, despite our frequent falling short.
Synodality offers a path towards a new experience of being Church, of being heard, of being challenged to grow more deeply into our faith, to open ourselves more fully to the promptings of the Holy Spirit, to learn more about the implications of the Gospel for our daily decisions in life – and to make a real and positive difference to the world around us. It invites us to get better at cooperation across our parishes, pooling our resources, drawing more fully on the talents available in our faith communities. Synodality calls us to build on our baptism – and the graces of all the sacraments – to encourage more inclusive and participative learning within the Church, and to exercise co-responsibility for the healthy functioning of the Church.
Through synodality, Pope Francis has put fresh emphasis on four aspects of the Church that were always there, but not always stressed so strongly. First, how we are a pilgrim people, journeying together. Second, how the Church can, when open and truly attentive to the Holy Spirit, be a school of Christian wisdom. Third, how the Church should serve as a field hospital, seeking to heal the wounds of a hurting world. Fourth, how the Church should foster encounter and conversation, offering a ministry of accompaniment and reconciliation.
Much good work in pastoral care and communicating faith is already being done in our parishes. Our move towards Families of Parishes in our diocese invites us to share good practice and to help identify any gaps in our provision or encouragement of adult faith formation (as in other aspects of faith life). If we take into account the untapped potential of informal learning in the Church we have reason to be hopeful. I am thinking here of three overlapping activities and experience: first, friendship and its contribution to spiritual learning; second, the social life of a parish, and third, the outreach ministry that goes on in each of our parishes.
By the social life I include such activities as quizzes, trips out, walking, dances, entertainment, but especially sharing tea/coffee after Mass. I am convinced that our parish life and our Christian discipleship are strengthened and deepened and made more resilient through such informal sharing and conversation. Faith is made plausible in ordinary conversations because the beliefs we have in common are assumed and drawn on (at least some of the time) informally, using everyday language. Such conversations connect our faith community and its sacramental life to everyday experiences, for example, family events, illness, holidays, news items on television, and difficult decisions we might be facing.
As for outreach ministry, even if the numbers of people involved are few, these few find their faith challenged, stretched and reinforced by their attempts to help people in need (some within, others beyond the parish). At the same time, those involved in outreach ministry or some kind of service to the needy might well also participate in parish social activities – and thereby are able to enrich the informal conversations that take place there and so deepen the understanding of other parishioners about how faith can be put into practice.
John Sullivan is a parishioner of Sacred Heart & St John Stone, Ainsdale, a member of his local Deanery Synodal Council and Emeritus Professor of Christian Education, Liverpool Hope University
[1] Tomáš Halík, The Afternoon of Christianity (University of Notre Dame Press, 2024), pp.67-8.