Learning to 'read' the world through Catholic eyes

By Jaymie Stuart Wolfe, OSV News

When Sean Connery received the American Film Institute lifetime achievement award in 2006, he said that his "big break" wasn't a chance discovery by a famous actor or film producer. At 76, the original James Bond recalled, "I got my break, my big break, when I was 5 years old -- and it's taken me more than 70 years to realize it. You see, at 5, I learned to read. It's that simple, and it's that profound."

Consider for a moment how different our lives would be if we couldn't read -- if we suddenly found ourselves in Japan or Pakistan. For most Americans, written Japanese and Urdu would be utterly inaccessible -- their symbols reduced to an indecipherable array of shapes and squiggles. Natives would understand, but we'd be lost.

The ability to read changes everything. Once we understand the geometric shapes of letters and how they fit together to make words, they can never be mere lines and shapes again -- every jot and tittle overflows with message and meaning.

Reading doesn't just change how we experience the world; it changes us too. Once we can read, it's impossible not to. With little thought or effort, we absorb every word we see. And once we become convinced that the world "can" be known, we tend to embrace the idea that it "must" be known. The thirst for meaning -- to understand who we are and why we exist -- is as close to a universal human quest as anything can be.

To succeed in that quest, we need to be literate -- able to "read" what is constantly being conveyed to us. As Catholics, we believe that the gift of faith is, in essence, a gift of literacy, the key to grasping the purpose of not just our lives, but all life. Faith enables us to make sense of what otherwise might seem random and senseless. Faith teaches us how to interpret the world around us through the one who dwells within us. It shows us how to "read" not only the written word of God but also the creation we call home and the very times we live in. Faith empowers us to discern what has lasting value: to set proper priorities, know what is right, and measure our actions against an objective standard of goodness and truth.

Even more, faith assures us that we are loved, and that the one who loves us is speaking to us in and through all that is.

People of faith don't read God into the world but testify to what they observe. We read the Bible or pray because we hear God's voice. We offer our talents and work to God and serve others in need because we know his goodness. We wonder at the order and beauty of creation because we acknowledge his creative power. We choose to live simply and accept suffering as an opportunity to grow in trust because we recognize the sacrificial nature of God's love for us. We forgive those who hurt us and seek forgiveness from those we have wronged because we have experienced his mercy.

Anyone who watches or reads the news knows how very ignorant our culture has become about all things spiritual. That seems to be a casualty of the fact that religious practice of all kinds has been declining for some time. But perhaps the most significant consequence of religious illiteracy is the anxiety of living in what seems an increasingly chaotic and arbitrary world with no way to "read" it. A pervasive crisis of meaning comes when nothing makes sense.

Sean Connery identified learning to read as the "big break" that changed everything. For Catholics, that moment is baptism. At the font, we receive faith as the gift that makes everything else in life both accessible and intelligible. Like Mr. Connery, we may not have a formal education, but the spiritual life, with all its depth and mystery, is opened to us. We become literate enough to sound out the challenges we face or to look them up; literate enough that we cannot fail to see God's presence and his work everywhere and in everything.

One question, however, remains: How can we teach others to "read," so they encounter God in the world around them?