“Why can’t we use Year B readings this year for the Scrutinies?”

“We’ve written new scrutiny rites for the Year B readings. Can we use those?”

I hear those questions every year we aren’t in the Year A cycle of the Lectionary. (Recall that the readings we hear every Sunday are structured on a three-year rotation. In Year A we hear primarily from Matthew’s Gospel; in Year B, from Mark; and in Year C, from Luke. John’s Gospel is interspersed throughout each year.)

I can understand why some people have these questions. We’ve come a long way since before Vatican II when the amount of Scripture people heard at Mass over the course of a year was very limited (1% of the Old Testament and 17% of the New Testament) compared to today (14% of the Old Testament and 71% of the New Testament). When the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, 51, of Vatican II said that “[t]he treasures of the bible are to be opened up more lavishly, so that richer fare may be provided for the faithful at the table of God’s word,” the Church took it seriously, and the faithful have come to value more and more a fuller proclamation of the Word in the midst of the assembly.

Yet I think we still have a way to go when it comes to valuing the rites of initiation within the Sunday gathering of the assembly. The best way we can help the assembly—and their parish leaders—to grow in appreciation of these rites of initiation is to do the rites well and fully, consistently year after year.

What does the Rite say?
So, taking a look at the rubrics for the Scrutiny Rites, we read:

The scrutinies should take place within the ritual Masses “Christian Initiation: The Scrutinies,” which are celebrated on the Third, Fourth, and Fifth Sundays of Lent; the readings with their chants are those given for those Sundays in the Lectionary for Mass, Year A….In every case the ritual Masses “Christian Initiation: The Scrutinies” are celebrated and in this sequence: for the first scrutiny the Mass with the gospel of the Samaritan woman; for the second, the Mass with the gospel of the man born blind; for the third, the Mass with the gospel of Lazarus. (146)

Seems clear, yes? Yet perhaps still not compelling enough a reason for those who ask our opening questions. So let’s look at some reasons that may be more convincing.

What does history say?
In the oldest known Book of Gospels, called the Würzberg Evangelary (c. 645), the three passages from John’s Gospel listed in RCIA, 146, are included in the readings for Lent. This Evangelary scheduled John’s Gospel to be read semi-continuously during the last few weeks of Lent. However the stories of the man born blind and the raising of Lazarus were listed out of order, suggesting that they were used for specific rites. By the ninth century and possibly as early as the late seventh century, we have evidence that these three Gospel readings were moved to specific Sundays of Lent in both the Roman rite and the Ambrosian rite, again suggesting that they were used for particular lenten rites. We can trust that for the Church, these Johannine stories have had significant prominence in the preparation for Easter. Let’s examine why this is and why over the years these readings have been associated with the preparation of the elect.

What do the readings say?
Just as the scrutinies themselves are meant to be a series of rites spanning over an extended period of time, so too are these three Gospel readings meant to be “digested” little by little with time in between each set of readings. This is because the readings in their assigned sequence reflect the very purpose of the Scrutiny Rites. That is, little by little, these readings with their prescribed rites uncover what is weak and sinful and strengthen what is good and upright in the elect. Through them, “the elect are instructed gradually about the mystery of sin, from which the whole world and every person longs to be delivered…” (RCIA, 143).

In the story of the woman at the well, the Samaritan woman hears Jesus then goes and tells the villagers what she has heard, causing them to seek him out for themselves. The reading ends with the villagers saying to the woman, “We no longer believe because of your word; for we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this is truly the savior of the world” (John 4:42). Was this not the starting point of every elect? They heard a word, a word that they discovered over time to be Christ. Upon discovering who was speaking to them, they no longer believed because of hearsay, obligation, or pressure, but because they heard Christ’s voice for themselves.

In the story of the man born blind, the man healed of his blindness gradually grows to see as Christ sees. He regains his sight right at the start of the story. But only because of the interrogation he receives from his neighbors and the Pharisees and his struggle to respond to them faithfully, does he little by little begin to see the identity of who it was who healed him. By the end of the story, the one who healed him was no longer to him just “the man called Jesus” (John 9:11) or simply “a prophet” (John 9:17) or “from God” (John 9:33). He was “Lord” (John 9:38) in whom he believed. For the elect this progression may be familiar. At the start of their catechumenate, their eyes are signed “that [they] may see the glory of God” (Rite of Acceptance, RCIA 56). Through their catechesis over the years and their experience with the community of believers they grow in understanding of what they see—who the man Jesus was, the prophetic words he spoke, his unique relationship with the Father, and finally his true identity as Lord.

Lastly, in the story of the raising of Lazarus, we come to the final days before the elect must stand before the font and profess their faith. In this reading, the miracle happens at the end of the story, but faith is already expressed long before the miracle takes place. Martha makes her profession of faith in Jesus the Messiah even as her brother is lying dead in the tomb. She needed no words and no miraculous deeds to believe in him; she only needed to believe. Period.

In this final story, we see what those who have been entrusted to continue Jesus’ work have hopefully been doing in order to prepare the elect to make their profession of faith. They have been preparing them, like Jesus prepared Martha and Mary, to understand the paschal mystery they would witness in the resurrection—that out of death comes new life in Christ. Only after Lazarus is revived and Jesus is raised from the dead will Martha truly understand the words of faith she professed. It is her belief in and love for Jesus that allow her to be ready for whatever he will do despite her human logic that death is death, for “Martha believes not in what she understands but in the one who has the words of eternal life” (Sandra Schneiders, Written That You May Believe, Crossroad Publishing Company, p. 158).

When the three scrutiny readings are examined in this way, we begin to understand what the RCIA means when it says that Lent “is intended as well to enlighten the minds and hearts of the elect with a deeper knowledge of Christ the Savior” (139). The Gospels assigned to the scrutinies are there to ask the elect:

• Could he possibly be the Messiah?
• Do you believe in the Son of Man?
• Do you believe this?

The things that keep the elect from saying “yes!” are the things that must be scrutinized and exorcized, for in a few short weeks, they must respond “yes, I believe” as they stand at the edge of death at the font. The place where the elect learn to answer “yes!” is in the parish community. The assignment and order of the scrutiny Gospels from John reflect the community’s progressive and communal catechesis for the elect in order that they may hear and believe (Samaritan woman), see and believe (man born blind), and finally believe without proof (Martha and Lazarus).

Why B and C don’t work
Though well-intentioned and creative, when we create new scrutiny texts to match the readings from Year B or C, we have severed ourselves and our elect from the rich history and wisdom of the Church who over the centuries have understood the unique power of the three Johannine Gospel readings. Some will argue that the Year B readings are particularly apt for those preparing for baptism because each Sunday reading includes reference to some symbol from the baptismal rite: water in Noah and the flood; white garments in the Transfiguration; resurrection of the destroyed temple; Jesus teaching Nicodemus about the light; and death of the grain of wheat. Although this may be true, these readings cannot compare to the dramatic power of the three assigned Scrutiny readings. Furthermore, as RCIA 143 noted, Lent is a time for the elect to gradually learn about sin; the period after their baptism is the time for them to reflect on the baptismal symbols and their experience of initiation through mystagogical catechesis.

When we worry that the faithful are missing out on the readings of Year B or C on the Sundays of the scrutinies, we are forgetting that the faithful’s role in these rites is to pray fervently for the elect. All their focus should be upon the elect for it is in them that God is working most clearly. It is in the elect that the Word of Christ is evangelizing whole communities; it is in them that the world is beginning to see Christ present on earth; it is in them that we will witness new life spring forth from death. These elect will be elect only once in their lives. This will be the only time they will ever hear these three Gospel readings from John as elect, surrounded by the prayers of the community and overshadowed by the power of the Spirit. We, the baptized, have a responsibility to them at these critical moments of their lenten preparation to use the best our Church tradition has to offer. The best will be the assigned Year A readings.

Perhaps as preparation for taking on our assigned role in these Scrutiny Rites, we, the already-baptized, might read the assigned readings for Year B or Year C during the weeks leading up to the Scrutiny Rites, that these readings might open our ears, eyes, and hearts to hear the Year A readings anew with strengthened faith in Christ already at work in the elect.

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The initiation rites of the third, fourth, and fifth Sundays of Lent don’t have the most comforting of names. On these days we engage the elect in rites and prayers called scrutinies and exorcisms. The first connotes probing and critical examination of one’s life, and the second—well, let’s just say many of us have had nightmares because of what Hollywood thinks exorcisms look like.

Yet if we understand the history of these initiation rites, we’ll see that they are both more pastoral and comforting than we may think.

To call the current rite with the elect “scrutiny” is a bit of a misnomer. Paul Turner gives a good overview of how we got where we are today in terms of the scrutinies.

Two related actions
In the earliest ritual books of the church, exorcisms and scrutinies seemed to be separate events celebrated sometimes on a daily basis. One of these early documents, called the Apostolic Tradition, notes that the catechumens’ conduct was examined at a time just before their baptism. After this examination, the bishop laid hands daily on the catechumens and led prayers of exorcism over them until their baptism. The scrutinizing of the catechumens’ lives was meant to prepare them for baptism, while the exorcisms served to prove that the scrutinies were working. The two rites were distinct yet related and were both loving acts of the church for the elect.

This is a brief, but effective overview of the development of the RCIA


History of the RCIA
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As fewer adults were being initiated and the number of infant baptisms increased, these two rites were condensed into one liturgy, like we have today. Yet, no longer were these rites seen as preparation for baptism. Rather they became somewhat perfunctory rites done just before baptism as part of the tradition. By the 12th century, the elect participated only in an exorcism on Saturday morning right before the baptismal liturgy. By the 17th century, even this was moved to the beginning of the baptismal rite itself—we still do this in today’s Rite of Baptism of infants. Perhaps it was this diminishing, not only in time but also in meaning, that spurred on some of our more negative connotations of these two rituals.

Paul Turner summarizes the history of scrutinies best in this way:

They consistently served as a way of ritually assessing one’s readiness for baptism, but what they investigated changed from one generation to the next. They scrutinized spiritual development, moral behavior, intellectual understanding, and even the intelligence of godparents….By the time of the reforms of the Second Vatican Council the scrutinies had been transformed into a series of exorcisms invoked within the baptismal liturgy, in Latin, where no real scrutinizing was expected.

Renewing the purpose
In the renewal of the initiation rites, the scrutiny is meant not simply to critique and assess one’s readiness—remember that readiness was established at the Rite of Election with the godparents’ testimony and the bishop’s acceptance of the catechumens’ names. The purpose of each of the scrutinies is “to uncover, then heal all that is weak, defective, or sinful in the hearts of the elect” and “to bring out, then strengthen all that is upright, strong, and good” (RCIA, 141). The true pastoral sense of this two-fold act of uncovering and strengthening is emphasized in the next sentence of 141: “For the scrutinies are celebrated in order to deliver the elect from the power of sin and Satan, to protect them against temptation, and to give them strength in Christ….” At its core, the scrutinies are not about the sinfulness of the elect but about the overwhelming grace of God in Christ. The exorcisms are not fear-laden bouts with Satan but are grace-filled encounters with the healing power of the Spirit.

In the current rite, it is difficult to name what is the “scrutinizing” event. I would argue that the proclamation of Scripture, especially the gospel, serves to scrutinize the elect, for it is in the word proclaimed that we encounter Christ. As Rita Ferrone, one of our TeamRCIA writers, says, “A scrutiny is…very different from submitting one’s conduct to the judgment of the church. Better to say that Jesus is the one who scrutinizes the elect, whom he loves and has called to himself” (“Lazarus, Come Out! The Story and Ritual of the Third Scrutiny” in Catechumenate: A Journal of Christian Initiation, Liturgy Training Publications, January 1992, p. 3.) Further, “next to the proclamation of the word, the intercessions are the crucial element within the ritual, for within them the cutting edge of the word is concretely focused on the human heart” (Michael Marchal, “Scrutinies: Words That Cut” in Catechumenate: A Journal of Christian Initiation, January 1993, p. 21).

What does this mean for us then? I think this brief look at the history and purpose of the scrutinies gives us three points to remember:

• The scrutinies and their accompanying exorcisms are a series of rites that cannot be condensed in time; they need time “to work.” Nor should we diminish their ritual symbols of silence, posture, litany, and handlaying.
 
• The scrutinies focus as much on the grace of God as on the sin of humanity. We can’t truly call a scrutiny a Christian rite of initiation unless our self-searching leads to acknowledgment and praise of Christ who saves us.
 
• The scrutinies are for the elect, not for the baptized, for we believe that baptism matters. That is, when one is baptized, one is freed from the power of sin. The baptized are no longer enslaved by Satan. Those who have not yet entered the waters of the font are still vulnerable; they have not yet been clothed with Christ; they have not yet been reborn as new creations. That is why those who have already been released from the devil’s grip are able to pray these scrutinies and exorcisms for the elect.

Rehearsal outline:

Scrutiny

RCIA 150-156, 164-170, 171-177

6:30 Before everyone arrives

• Turn on lights and put out microphones.
  
• Put the lectionary on the ambo.
  
• Put the presider’s script or ritual book on his chair.
  
• Put the catechumenate director’s script on her chair or pew.
  
• Place name tags in the pews where you want the elect and their godparents to sit.
  
• If necessary, mark the spots where the elect will stand with a piece of masking tape.
  

7:00 Welcome the participants: the presider, the director of the catechumenate, the godparents, and perhaps the musician. (The elect are not present.) Ask the presider, godparents, and catechumenate director to sit in their places. Lead a brief prayer.

7:10 Remind the godparents of these essential points; be lighthearted, but still convey the importance of the information:

• Point out to the godparents that the scrutinies have two goals
  • Uncover and heal all weakness in the elect
    
  • Strengthen all that is strong and good in the elect (see RCIA 141)
    
• There are three scrutinies, and all three are required, because one builds upon the next.
  
• Godparents need to pick up the elect from home or meet them in front of the church before Mass.
  
• Everyone needs to be in their seats 15 minutes before Mass starts.
  
• From the minute they walk into the church, until the minute the elect are dismissed, the godparents need to be in physical contact with the elect. A hand on an arm or shoulder at all times.
  
• It is the godparents’ responsibility to know the details of the rite. They need to project an air of confidence and always reassure the elect that things are under control.
  
• Point out to them that Mass will begin as usual and will be “normal” up through the homily. After the homily ends, they need to be ready.
  

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The adaptation of the scrutiny rites for child catechumens is confusing (RCIA 291). Instead of clearly labeling the rites as scrutinies, they are called “Penitential Rites (Scutinies).” And even though the title is plural, only one text is given with an instruction to write your own for a second, using the given text as a model. Nothing is said about a third scrutiny. There are nine readings listed as options for the liturgy of the word and, although the traditional Johannine gospels are listed among them, there is no requirement that they be used and no emphasis in the rite on the progressive nature of these three traditional scrutiny gospels.

Most parishes that have child catechumens simply include the children in the regular scrutinies with the adults. If the liturgy is celebrated well, it is as meaningful for the children as it is for the adults.

• Choreographing the Scrutinies
• Don’t catechize in Lent
• What are the proper prayers for the scrutinies?
• 9 Ways to Treat the Elect Like Royalty
• Reckless Love: A Scrutiny Homily
• “God Glasses” for the Man Born Blind – A Scrutiny Homily for the Fourth Sunday of Lent

We all know that we always use the readings from the Third, Fourth, and Fifth Sundays of Lent, Year A, for the scrutinies, right? But do you know what Mass prayers to use? They are not the Mass prayers from those Sundays. Instead, whenever the scrutinies are celebrated, we use the Mass prayers for “Christian Initiation: The Scrutinies” (see RCIA 146). You’ll find those in the back of the sacramentary in the section titled “Ritual Masses.”

• Choreographing the Scrutinies
• Don’t catechize in Lent
• 9 Ways to Treat the Elect Like Royalty
• Reckless Love: A Scrutiny Homily
• “God Glasses” for the Man Born Blind – A Scrutiny Homily for the Fourth Sunday of Lent

The stories of the man born blind, the woman at the well and the raising of Lazarus from the dead are a set of readings that must always be proclaimed whenever we celebrate the Scrutinies. Why then are today’s readings so important for those who are preparing for initiation? Why are they so important for us who are already baptized?

These readings teach us about our baptismal promises. The story of the Samaritan woman at the well is not so much about the woman believing in Christ but about the woman fulfilling her role in proclaiming the Gospel. She reminds us that our baptism commits us to a life of evangelization. Likewise, the story of Lazarus is not so much about Jesus raising him from the dead but about having faith in Christ even when it looks like death has won. This story reminds us that we are committed to a life of faith and trust. And the story of the man born blind is not so much about the man being healed, but about seeing as God sees. Today’s Gospel reminds us that we are committed to a life that reveals God’s vision, to a life of constant conversion. This is what I mean by conversion.

If we are sincere about asking God to “open our eyes,” to see as God sees, then we must also be willing to change the way we live our lives so that our lives reflect God’s point to view, and not ours.

Here’s an example of how life changes once you’re given a new perspective. How many of you wear glasses or contact lenses? Then you might know what I am talking about. When I was in the 6th grade, I got my first pair of glasses. When I stepped out of the doctor’s office into the parking lot, the first thing I saw was this tree. Now, I had never in my life seen a tree like that. Before I got the glasses, I thought trees were just blobs of green and brown and red and orange. Theoretically, I knew what a tree looked like. I could see leaves and bark and such. But after I saw them through my new glasses, I realized that a tree was more than just leaves and bark. The leaves had lines, and edges, and curves. There were birds in the trees that I could see. There were cracks and grooves in the bark that I had missed before.

Finally being able to see the detail, the intricacies of nature, and its true beauty is like how God sees each of us. In the first reading, God told Samuel that God doesn’t see as humans see. We can only see part of the picture, what’s on the outside of a person. But God sees deeper, into the heart of that person. God sees the fullness of that person’s potential. God sees that person’s intricate and detailed beauty.

Jesus tells the blind man “you have seen the Son of Man, you have seen the Christ; the one speaking with you is he.” What if each of us could put on some glasses—”God glasses”—that allow us to see that intricate and detailed beauty of each person? Imagine how differently we would act if we remembered Jesus’ words (“you have seen Christ, he is speaking with you now”).

How differently we would act if each time we encountered our co-workers, we saw Christ. How differently we would treat our parents, our children, our spouse, and our classmates, our friends, our enemies. How differently we would treat the people who sit around us in church, the people we see here every week but to whom we never talk, the people who don’t speak our language, the people who don’t look, act, or think the way we do. How differently we would treat the beggar, the homeless, the people we label as failure, as sinner, the people we label as conservative, liberal, gay, straight, too old, too young, too dark, too light, too smart, too dumb, too much of something that doesn’t fit our point of view. Imagine if each time we encounter each other, each time we speak with one another, we “see” Christ, we “hear” Jesus. How different our world would be.

Our Elect are with us here today. In three weeks they will step into that water there in the font. They will be clothed in white and given the light of the Easter Candle. They will be anointed with oil as priest, prophet and king in Christ. And they will stand with us at this table to give thanks and break bread and drink wine, becoming with us what they eat, the Body and Blood of Christ.

Dear Elect, in a moment you will stand in our midst along with your godparents. We will pray for you that God’s light may heal the dark places of your lives and strengthen each of you. Your baptism will change you. It will change your identity. It will change the way you “see” the world, and thus, it will change the way you act within the world. For this is the duty of the baptized: to be imitators of Christ and to see as God sees.

We, the faithful, stand with each of you, not to judge you, not to test you, nor to evaluate you. No, we stand with you to give you the courage and strength that you will need to face those dark places. We will ask God to help you see those moments of failure and weakness as God sees them—not as reasons to condemn you, but as opportunities to love you with an even greater love. Seeing you as God sees you, we give thanks, for you are a sign to us that God is still making all things new.

There’s one thing about getting my glasses for the first time that I will never forget. When I saw that tree and I saw how beautiful it was, all I could do was be amazed and give praise for the awesome wonder of God’s creation. When we see as God sees, all we can do is stand and praise God for showing us a glimpse of heaven.

Have you ever been in love with someone you weren’t supposed to love? Someone your parents or your friends disapproved of?

In the first two paragraphs of today’s Gospel, Jesus does some astounding things.

• He goes to Samaria.
• He walks up to a well where a woman is drawing water.
• He sends off his disciples so he is alone with the woman.
• He speaks to her.
• He does this at noon, when anyone walking by can see.

All of these are very large barriers for a Jewish man to cross in Jesus’ day. His friends clearly disapproved. What does Jesus want so badly that he is willing to engage in such risky behavior?

This story really begins with the wedding at Cana when Jesus reveals himself as the Bridegroom. The Bridegroom is in search of a Bride and he has discovered that the House of Israel only seemed interested in a marriage of convenience. So Jesus stepped out. He went to the part of town he shouldn’t have. He asked out the girl with the reputation. He went to Samaria, across the border, to a place self-respecting Jews did not go.

The very nature of the God is an incessant craving for intimacy. The reason for creation is so God could have an “other” to love. The reason the Son became flesh is so God could feel how we feel, love how we love, want what we want. That God could love us like that seems almost reckless. If God had parents, surely they would not approve.

That reckless love, that intimacy with Jesus, is what Pope John Paul II said catechists are to help people find. If you’ve ever loved someone, you know intimacy is a two way street. You cannot have intimacy all by yourself. Someone has to desire you, to want to be intimate back, to share their life with you. No matter how much we desire Jesus, he desires us more. No matter how much the woman at the well needed Jesus, he needed her more.

In this story, Jesus was reckless in his love. He was willing to cross over physical and social boundaries to get what he needed. He was willing to put up with the questioning and suspicion of his closest disciples to teach them not have such a small love, not to limit their love only to places and people where they feel safe.

The disciples didn’t love the Samaritans. The Samaritans were foreigners who had strange customs and strange foods. They had odd rituals, and weird devotional practices. The disciples were willing to follow Jesus into Samaria, but they didn’t really cross over the boundary. They are like some Americans who go to foreign countries for vacation and get upset when they can’t get eggs and bacon for breakfast. When the disciples went to town to buy food, they probably went to the first century version of McDonalds. It didn’t occur to them to tell people about Jesus while they were there. Who throws pearls before swine after all?

The Woman at the Well, on the other hand, couldn’t wait. She rushed off so fast, she left her water jar, left everything. She ran, totally committed to the love she had discovered. She ran to town to announce the good news. This was the same town the disciples had just returned from. The woman went into the town and returned to the well with hearts to woo. The disciples returned with lunch.

We have Samaritan Women among us today. The Elect are here, asking the same kinds of questions the woman at the well asked. In a moment, we will pray for them that their love remains true, that their commitment is total. We will pray God strengthens all that God loves in them and that they will be healed from all that hinders their love for God.

We can be sure they do love God with a passionate, reckless love that perhaps some people in their lives may not approve of. Their catechists and this community have succeeded in matchmaking them with Jesus, bringing them to that love and intimacy Pope John Paul talked about.

Likewise, we can be sure that Jesus loves them. He loves them, needs them, desires them, wants them as much as he needed the Samaritan woman. He is crossing over their Samarias, sitting at their wells, courting them in broad daylight, not caring who knows that he is crazy in love with them. This Easter Vigil, when the Elect step up to the well of living water, they will become the Bride. Their desire, their need, their thirst for intimacy will be so fully quenched, they will never thirst again.

And we who will be witnesses at this new Cana, at the Easter Vigil’s wedding banquet, we will remember when our own love of Christ was newly in bloom and our own desire was met with overwhelming desire. On that night of overflowing water, we will remember how our baptism quenched all our thirsts. On that night, we will renew our vows, our promise, our total commitment to the love of Christ.

It is a reckless, head over heals kind of love affair we have. It is a love that crosses boundaries and seeks intimacy in places we might not have expected, in places we might not have gone, in people who are not like us, who at first might have seemed foreign and unsafe.

When we read this love story of the Woman at the Well, we hear it differently at different times in our lives. When we are new to love or when we are feeling unlovable, we might imagine ourselves to be the woman, a person thirsting for intimacy, a person parched by the day to day struggles of trying to make sense of life. When we are bored or burnt out or not vibrantly in touch with our faith, we might think we are the disciples, good hearted folks who are a bit clueless and need a little reminding of what it means to be a Catholic and a Christian.

But today, in this place, as we are about to pray for the Elect in our midst, we, the baptized, are like Christ at Cana, at the Wedding Banquet, to whom the Mother of God says, “They have no wine.” In Christ, we can turn water into wine, loneliness and isolation into intimacy and communion. With Christ, we can cross the boundaries of places we might otherwise be afraid to go. Through Christ, we can sit at the well of those who are not like us in so many ways, but are like us in the one way that matters. We all thirst for that deep intimacy that only the Bridegroom can give.

The boundary breaking, intimate, deep-as-a-well love Jesus showed the woman freed her. The love welled up in her to the point she couldn’t contain it. She had to share it. She herself became a well, a fountain overflowing with Christ’s love. She became like Jesus, crossing boundaries, finding those searching for love and telling them to come and see.

When we were plunged into the waters of life, we also became like Jesus, seeking intimacy with all the world, especially in the places that might seem risky and out of bounds—in our enemies, in those who are foreign to us, in those who would persecute us.

We when eat and drink at this wedding banquet every Sunday, we become what we eat. We become the love of Christ for the world.

Do we believe that? Can we imagine it? If so, let’s leave our little water jars and our small love behind and go out to love with astounding, reckless abandon.

When you are planning for the scrutinies, be sure to move the Elect out into the midst of the assembly. The goal is to strive for both visibility and intimacy.

• If you only have one candidate for initiation this year, the action of the scrutiny should take place where it is most visible—usually at the head of the center aisle. The Elect would face the assembly.
• If you have two candidates, place the second about half way down the center aisle.
• If you have three, place the third in a side aisle, and so on.
• When it is time for the rite, the godparents move the Elect into their designated places.
• It is very important for the godparents to keep a hand on the Elect throughout the entire rite.
• When it is time for the laying on of hands, the presider would walk solemnly to each candidate and press his hands on top of each head.
• You might adapt the rite to have the director of the catechumenate follow behind and do the same.
• Similarly, each godparent might lay hands on his or her candidate as well.
• Note, the laying on of hands is a gesture of exorcism, not absolution.

Do not rehearse with the Elect. It is up to the god- parents to guide the Elect.

The key to a reverent and dignified celebration is rehearsal. Rehearse, rehearse, rehearse.

BUT, do not rehearse with the Elect. It is up to the godparents to be well prepared and know how to guide the Elect through the rite. Their care for the Elect in the rite is symbolic of their commitment as godparents.