[DETOURS] At 45, I was called to be a catechist

Editor’s note: At 45 years old, Minna wasn’t really looking for something new and challenging. She was already happy and content with her life. But when she got ‘the call’ to become a catechist, she knew she had to take it. 

It was one of my typical days: getting up, morning rituals, putting on my rubber shoes, then going out for my daily early morning walk. This was my me-time, my Jesus-time. It was a good two-kilometer walk to my favorite resting place, a concrete slab by the road overlooking a vast rice field with plenty of trees at a distance and the mountain range as a backdrop. 

Here I’d sit and pray; here I’d talk to Jesus – about anything, about everything, gazing at the beautiful view, taking in the magnificent miracle of sunrise. I’d have this quiet time to myself as the place is still deserted at this early hour, save for a few – a farmer leading his carabao to the fields, a plying tricycle loaded with vegetables to bring to the market, or an early morning biker. I’d sit here every day thankful for having the place all to myself. Little did I know that this day was to become THE DAY.

As I sat there basking in the beauty of the sunrise, I talked to Jesus, not about just anything. This morning I talked to Him about something in particular, something which I can’t get off my mind, something which stirred me. 

We had a new parish priest at that time as per the diocesan clergy reshuffle, and our parish was in its initial stages of reorganization. A top priority was the catechetical ministry which was in dire need of volunteer catechists. Having plenty of time to spare, I volunteered as a church worker helping in whatever way I can. I do mostly computer work in the office, and other times being sent to various diocesan events, training, and seminars as a parish representative. 

One day, the new priest kind of matter-of-factly told me, “be a catechist!” He did not ask nor did he request me; he sort of just blurted it out to me like a soldier’s order. I said “no”, and in jest reminded him that a volunteer serves out of one’s own free will. However, this was repeated on several occasions to which my answer was still a big “NO.” 

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Truth to tell, I haven’t been at peace since then. The thought kept bugging me. Several times I talked to God about it and unloaded my apprehensions before Him. What and how will I teach? Am I equipped for it? Can I do it? With my 3 kids now all adults, do I still have the patience with children? How am I to manage a whole classroom of them? Etc., etc., etc. 

I said, “Dear God, it’s not that I don’t love You enough, nor I don’t want to serve You more. You know my heart, You know me inside out. It’s just that I really don’t know how to go about it. And I am scared. Teaching is foreign territory!” 

I pleaded to Him to please guide me and let me know, clear copy. Although I had my fill of catechism in our religion class in the Catholic school I went to in my younger years, still, going out there in mission and ministry is a totally different matter. Be a catechist? Absolutely not! Never! Not until this day, THE DAY.

With this nagging thought in my mind and heart, I just sat there on the smooth, concrete slab and got lost in my musings. After a while, I stood up and prepared to walk back home. And then it happened.

As I took a last look at the sun, I was amazed at what I saw! The sun was so big, perfectly and distinctly round, dazzlingly white, and set against the bright light-blue sky. It looked like a Sacred Host being lifted up! And then I heard a gentle voice inside of me that said, “Draw the children to the Eucharist.” 

Completely mesmerized and with eyes still transfixed on the sun, I felt tears flow down my cheeks. Why are tears flowing profusely? Definitely, I am not sad and I am not crying! What was happening? I looked around and saw a man passing by on his bicycle pedaling straight ahead not seeming to notice the spectacle I was witnessing. 

Can one actually look directly at the sun without being blinded by its radiant light? But that’s exactly what I was doing. I was dazed but in profound awe. And then slowly, it dawned upon me. The big, white, radiant sun…the sacred HOST, the EUCHARIST! A catechist prepares children to receive Holy Communion. A CATECHIST prepares children to receive JESUS in Holy Communion. “DRAW THE CHILDREN TO THE EUCHARIST.” What could be clearer! 

You guessed it. I finally said “YES!” And I’ve never been happier in my life. 

“You did not choose Me; I chose you and appointed you to go and bear much fruit, the kind of fruit that endures. And so the Father will give you whatever you ask of Him in My Name.” – John 15:16

Postscript: The Call brought me from classrooms and halls to the peripheries, to nearby towns, to other parts of the country, and ultimately to the world! In 2018, I was so blessed to be one of 5 representatives from our diocese and among the 63 Philippine delegates to the 2^nd International Congress on Catechesis held in Vatican City, Rome!

Minna Morales is a 65-year-old mother of 3 who each have their own families, a grandma of 8, and residing in a faraway little town in Nueva Ecija; alone but not lonely, living her days to the fullest one day at a time. Born and raised in Quezon City, she has been living in the province for more than 30 years now. The pandemic put a halt to all mission work so she is now able to focus on the things she loves but were somehow pushed aside, like rustic arts and crafts, and exploring nature.

Erratum: An earlier version of this story’s headline was ‘At 65, I was called to be a catechist,’ she was 45.