A Method Of Presenting The Bible To Children

The following article describes a method for teaching children the importance of Scripture and for developing their own natural spiritual sensitivity and openness. Whether followed exactly as described or adapted to local needs, this approach makes adults aware of the spiritual hunger and spiritual perception found in each child.

During the past year, our three-year-old became increasingly aware of crucifixes. Before a traditional representation, he often stopped, looked intently for a moment, and then reflected, "?Jesus is dead.?" At first, I refrained from speaking, but soon realized his statement was a request; he was asking for meaning. Perhaps he is ready for the Good News, I thought. The next time he said it, I answered, "?Yes, Jesus did die on the cross, but he rose from the dead. He is alive and with us still.?" This same dialogue was repeated on many occasions. I began to wonder whether it was making any impression. Would he believe what I said or what he seemed to be seeing? Last week, it happened again. He saw a large, outdoor crucifix, and said, "?Jesus is dead.?" Not knowing what to say anymore and feeling a certain embarrassment at the poverty of our representations of the paschal mystery, I responded only, "?Yes, he looks dead.?" Whereupon he took my face in his hands and looked straight into my eyes. His own eyes were wide with the excitement of a sudden realization. He spoke in a hushed voice as if telling me a secret, "?Maybe, they don't know he's alive.?" It may take an adult to announce the kerygma, but it takes a child to receive it. If we have the eyes to see and the ears to hear, we will be astounded at the young child's natural and supernatural sensitivities. What looks like inattention can often be a profound attention to something else. What looks like dawdling can really be the child's way of absorbing and reflecting on reality. What sounds like naiveté can actually be a manifestation of the child's ability to see into the essence of things. Do not contemplatives urge us to slow down, to attend to one thing, to journey toward the heart of the matter? All this, the child does naturally, if the child is not tugged too quickly into the adult world. It is this capacity that makes the child so ready to receive transcendent reality. When presented with great religious truths and ultimately with God, young children open wide the doors of their souls. Sophia Cavalletti has written eloquently of these matters in The Religious Potential of the Child (New York: Paulist Press, 1988). She has studied children for over thirty years, she speaks with the authority of experience:

All that we have been able to observe over these years, whether directly or through collaboration with former students, leads us to consider the child as a "?meta-physical being?" … who moves with ease in the world of the transcendent and who delights in—satisfied and serene—the contact with God.

When we consider presenting the Bible to children from three to six years of age, our estimation of their capacities will determine not only our selections, but our manner of presentation. If we feel children are only capable of relating to what they have experienced, we may choose passages that include children or animals or everyday occurrences. If we feel they will not be engaged unless presented with a story, then we will opt for passages with a strong narrative element. But if, like Cavalletti, we are convinced that they are capable of genuine religious experience, we will present those texts that point to Scripture's essence and open into an experience of the divine. And we will present them in a way that invites the child's own participation in the mystery of a relationship with God.

Cavalletti has come to just such a selection of Scripture, not only on the basis of her biblical scholarship, as she admits, but from her experience with children. She began hesitantly and with no preconceived theories. However by gradually presenting Scripture texts and observing the children's reactions, she and her collaborator, Gianna Gobbi, a Montessori educator, came to realize that certain passage called forth the same reaction—intense interest, desire for prolonged involvement, and, most of all, joy. When these reactions recurred over a long period of time, then Cavalletti and Gobbi believed that this was an indication that the subject matter and the manner of presentation corresponded to the interests and needs of the children. And so an ensemble of elements—few and essential—was slowly delineated. The children demonstrated that they knew these elements, not in an academic way, but as if these elements were part of their persons, almost as if they had always known these elements. As the work of Cavalletti and Gobbi spread to other socioeconomic areas in Rome, and then into parts of Africa, Latin America and North America, the same phenomenon was observed. Culture and geography made little difference. "?It is this that led us to consider that we were not faced with the personal reaction of this or that individual child, but rather a phenomenon concerning the child.?" The Context Before outlining these few and essential themes, we must consider the context of these Scripture presentations. They are given to young children in a specially prepared environment known as an atrium, a setting that allows children to live their religious lives in a child's way and prepares them to take their places in the church. The atrium is outfitted, in the manner of a Montessori room, with child-sized furniture, shelving containing materials for the children's meditative work, and centers of religious activity, for example, a miniature altar table. A place of prominence is always given to the prayer corner, where children may go at anytime during the approximately two hour meeting and where they often gather for communal prayer and paraliturgies. The children are shown how to walk slowly and speak softly, so an atmosphere of silence reigns in the room even though they are busy doing many things. In fact, children often say what they like best about the atrium is that it is so quiet and peaceful. In this setting, three-to-six-year olds are put "?in touch with those sources through which God communicates and reveals [God's self] in living form,?" i.e., Scripture and liturgy. They are initiated into the language of this symbolic communication, focusing on individual elements that are gradually combined over the years into a remarkable synthesis. Because of the inherent unity of Scripture and liturgy, to be able to read the signs of one is to be able to read the signs of the other. The content of the catechesis follows the liturgical year; seasonal material is presented at the appropriate time, and more general material is offered during ordinary time. Each year, for example, infancy narratives are considered during the Advent-Christmas season, but the specific text differs in the course of the three-year cycle. Children thus become familiar with different kinds of biblical texts, experiencing both repetition and newness. The Parable of the Good Shepherd Central to this catechesis is the proclamation of the parable of the Good Shepherd (John 10:3–5, 11–16). Its manner of presentation is typical of other scriptural presentations. A catechist gathers the children around, sitting on their level near a low table, and begins by retelling the story, never adding elements, but drawing out those elements that are especially significant for the children. The points on which a catechist lingers, for it is these points that most enchant the children, are above all the personal love and protective presence of the Good Shepherd. The Good Shepherd calls each one of the sheep by name, knows each intimately even if there are many sheep, calls the sheep and gradually they become accustomed to the voice of their Good Shepherd and they listen. In this way, a precious relationship is established; a thread of love binds the sheep always more closely to their Shepherd. The Shepherd's voice is powerful and supremely patient; it never tires of calling and reaches even to those sheep who are far away, beyond the sheepfold. Slowly, they too turn to hear the Shepherd's voice and they gather together into one great flock. The Shepherd knows the needs of the sheep and guides them to good pastures, walking ahead of them to show the way and to be the first to confront any danger should it arise. So the sheep are safe and peaceful with their Good Shepherd; they know there is someone to protect them even in danger. The catechist then leads a communal meditation on the text, perhaps posing evocative questions that help the children enter into the parable's meaning. During one presentation, some children gradually realized that they themselves were the sheep. Whereupon a three-year old leaped to his feet, pointed at the catechist, and said, "?And you're a sheep too!?" After a sense of entry into the text is established, a solemn reading of the parable takes place. Candles are lit, and these words of introduction are sometimes used, "?Now we will read the parable just as it is written in the Bible.?" Often a period of spontaneous prayer, arising out of silence, will follow. At this point, the parable is presented with sensorial material that is typical of that which the room is filled: a circular wooden sheepfold, a two-dimensional figure of the Good Shepherd (in the style of Michelangelo's David, a strong young man with a sheep on his shoulders), and ten two-dimensional sheep. As the parable is read again, the figures are moved to correspond to the actions in the text. These actions give children the basic idea of how to use the materials. However as they return to use them again and again in the course of the year, their own meditation will prompt them to make subtle changes in the movement, signaling to the observant catechist that they have personally appropriated the content of the parable. One little girl took the figure of the Good Shepherd in her hand and touched the head of each sheep. She then told the catechist, "?He loves the sheep so much; he is giving them kisses.?" Several important ideas are revealed in the children's reaction to this parable and the choice of this parable as the cornerstone of the catechesis by Cavalletti and Gobbi. "?In our estimation,?" writes Cavalletti, "?children should be initiated into present religious reality.?" What has happened in Jesus is decisive for our reading of the Hebrew Bible and, indeed, for the nature of religious experience. She advises initiating young children into the New Testament, especially the Gospels, "?concentrating on the passages the theological meaning of which the child can penetrate.?" If children are able to feel even once their hearts burning within them as they hear passages from Scripture, they will be on their way to regarding the Bible as a book of life. Second, the choice of this parable is wholly suited to the needs of the young child, who is in a developmental period, according to Maria Montessoir, that is especially sensitive to the need for protection. This parable can touch the young child's soul, providing the grounding for a trusting faith that integrates the affective dimensions of the personality and religious knowledge. For some children, this parable brings to mind memories of loving people in their lives, for the Good Shepherd image carries maternal as well as paternal associations. But for the child who has not known such love, the parable not only remains accessible, but can be supremely important, reorienting the child's life. Third, the parable can be considered as a kind of creedal formulation.

[It] introduces the child into the nucleus of the Christian mystery in its greatest content .… From a doctrinal point of view, the parable is a fundamental text that centers on the mystery of the person of Christ and His relationship with us, a relationship at once personal (the Shepherd knows each sheep by name) and communal (the sheepfold). It is the parable of providential love that reaches the ultimate sacrifice of life, and as such it is a paschal parable.

As Cavalletti is fond of saying: "?The greatest realities are for the youngest children.?" When they are in possession of the vital nucleus, their religious development becomes a process of meditatively unfolding something they already know in their hearts, even, one could say, in their bones. The Prophecies and Historical Narratives If the parable of the Good Shepherd is the central scriptural passage, it is by no means the first presented during the catechetical year. It is proclaimed during Lent only after the children's awareness has been refined by other scriptural and liturgical works. For young children, Cavalletti limits her use of passages from the Hebrew Bible to a few prophecies, during Advent, that contain strong images and can be interpreted as pointing to the person of Christ, for example, Isaiah 9:2, Isaiah 9:6, Isaiah 7:14, and Micah 5:1. With their images of light or the little child, these prophetic texts are usually printed in beautiful script, illustrated, mounted, or framed. They are presented in the prayer corner by the catechist, who also leads a meditation. Often the children begin to pray spontaneously at this point, using the images of the prophecy. The first of the historical passages are also represented in Advent. During each year of the cycle, one or two of the following are given: the Annunciation, the visitation, the adoration of the shepherds, the adoration of the magi, the presentation in the temple, or the flight to Egypt. Their presentation is similar to that of the parable of the Good Shepherd, containing a retelling of the story in the catechist's own words, a mediation, a solemn reading of the text, a prayer response, and a presentation of the parable. In this case, the sensorial material is somewhat different; the figures are always three-dimensional, instead of two-dimensional, and are moved about in dioramas that are as historically accurate as the catechist can make them. It is a treasured moment when a child in the atrium is heard to say to another something like, "?Did you know that Jesus really lived??" The awareness of Jesus as a historical person is a significant achievement. Yet these infancy narratives are not presented primarily as history, but instead as theological meditations.

These are pages of exceedingly rich theological content; their theology is neither systematic nor explicit but one that is almost "?hidden?" in the text. We are dealing with a theology that is completely different from the textbook kind of theology; it cannot be learned through academic study, but rather through a prolonged "?listening?" to the text. It is a theology characteristically allusive.

If the catechist is able to meditate deeply on the mystery of the Incarnation, he or she will be able to bring a sense of wonder to the text which, like the biblical text, reveals to the children the importance of this child, the Son of God, and the Son of Man. The catechist will also demonstrate that there is always more to be discovered in biblical texts, even ones we have heard many times. After the presentation of the Annunciation, a little boy, not quite three, took the figure of the angel, held it up to the face of the figure of Mary, and said, "?No afraid; be happy; God!?" If the essence of the text is presented in a few, well-chosen words, the text will become part of a child's very soul.

The events at the end of Christ's life are conveyed primarily through the model of the city of Jerusalem, rather than through a detailed reading of Scripture. The paschal character of Christ's death is conveyed through the presentation of the Last Supper (Mark 14:12–17, 22–24). For this, a small model of the upper room, a table, bread and wine, and three-dimensional figures of Jesus and the apostles serve the children's meditation. At the end of the reading when the figures have been removed from the model room as if they are going to the garden of Gethesemane, the catechist announces, "?There, he was taken, and later he died.?" The catechist then puts a miniature crucifix on the cenacle table, where the bread and wine from the Last Supper remain. This is followed immediately by the announcement of the Resurrection, "?But, Christ rose from the dead.?" The catechist places two candles on either side of the crucifix and lights them, saying, "?He is alive and with us still.?" Here, the link between Scripture and liturgy is clear, for the children, since the beginning of their time in the atrium, have been sitting at the miniature altar table, in just the same fashion as they now see the table in the upper room. The connection need not be spelled out; a deep silence of recognition often follows this presentation. Cavalletti stresses the need to keep the proclamation of the death and the Resurrection together and in balanced proportion.

We believe it is necessary to tie them together; we do not even pause temporarily on the death, considering perhaps it is a well-known fact that the death was followed by the resurrection. Yes, it is known, but … very often the accent is applied to the death and so it comes to assume a greater vividness, than the resurrection. The disturbing proclamation we give is of the resurrection, and it is on this that we should concentrate.

The Parables of the Kingdom In the weeks after the close of the Christmas season, the children are presented with some of the stories Jesus told, in particular, the parables of the kingdom. These stories reveal Jesus as a poet and teacher, who saw in the natural world spiritual things. These stories call forth in both child and adult a sense of wonder: from the tiny seed of the Mideastern mustard—a tree; from the lump of dough—a loaf of bread! The kingdom of God is like these examples; it is born out of the small and is transformed into greatness by divine power. This same energy is at work in the children and manifests itself in their physical and spiritual growth. The value of the kingdom is presented in Matthew 13:44–46, in the parables of the precious pearl and the hidden treasure. The essential element in these parables is the kingdom's supreme worth, not the renunciation involved in attaining it. Young children, in fact, do not even allude to the renunciation involved in these parables because they are so taken with the joy of finding. Cavalletti says it is not necessary to stress the moral dimension of these parables.