"Touch Grass": Rooted in Reality

While writing one of the many discussion posts Fr. Baldovin, SJ assigned to our Liturgy class, I used the phrase “touch grass” as I reflected on the importance of rootedness in reality in the study of the liturgy. I don’t have access to Canvas anymore, so I unfortunately can’t provide a direct quote! But, it became a joke between a few of us in the class, I think because it was such a blunt, casual way to write an academic reflection.

At the time, maybe, our laughter signaled that we were just third-year MDivs tired of hyper-academic discourse and ready to dive into actual ministry. But as I look back, almost two years after my graduation from the CSTM, I still find wisdom in “touching grass.” I’m a college campus minister, so many of my students are, like I was, in the thick of serious studies. They have a thirst for knowledge and want to know the reasons behind the way things are the way they are. When my colleagues and I facilitate scripture studies, we often come across students who want to know what the text means. “No, but what does it ACTUALLY mean?” I’m grateful to my scripture professors at the CSTM that I am able to offer some historical and cultural context that can help these students make sense of what the scriptures might have meant in the times that they were written. However, I am equally grateful that these professors pushed us beyond the historical-critical method and asked us: what does this scripture mean to you, as a Catholic? What might it mean to those to whom you minister, in their own very specific cultural contexts, in this fraught historical moment? How is this text alive and relevant in your lives today?, I ask my students.

All of my professors at the CSTM, in their own ways, urged me to “touch grass” and consider the gritty, messy pastoral implications of the theological and biblical studies we were undertaking. And, since I was studying theology at the time of the Synod (talk about a historical moment!), this kind of rootedness in lived experience was especially significant. I live this out in my ministry whenever I empower students to lead prayer, facilitate a discussion on social justice in a pre-immersion formation meeting, or gain the confidence to become a Eucharistic minister or lector at Mass. Their experience matters, and they have agency in the way they live out their faith, not just despite but because of their young age.

Another way that my time at the CSTM has continued to urge me to “touch grass” is the way I’ve continued to stay connected to the strong community we built during our time in theology studies. There are at least six of us women that studied at the CSTM at the same time who now run service immersion programs at Catholic universities across the country. I am endlessly grateful for this network of support as we navigate the formational and logistical elements of these programs. This line of work is ever-changing as the country and world change around us. Remembering that I have these faithful, smart, adaptable ministers in my corner reminds me that I do not do this work alone and that I do not have to have all the answers. In this way, my experience at the CSTM did not end with commencement– it truly was just the beginning.