As usual, a terrific, thoughtful (and thought-provoking) post. I think I may be a couple years your senior, so the time of which you speak growing up rings very familiar to me. I did not make TEC until I was 44 years old. No, I wasn't a late bloomer! I was far too rebellious as a teen to attend something so based as a Teens Encounter Christ weekend retreat.
It was in the '90s (and I in my 30s) that too many children in my extended family did not have a father figure or adult male to be a role model for what a Christian man might look like, or how he might act, or think or talk. So I decided I needed to step up and be that role model for them. I got involved with the Youth Ministry at my parish, which only helped strengthen the foundations of my own faith. From there I graduated to more mature programs such as the parish-based WATCH (We Are The Church) program, and then on to TEC, and a few years later, Cursillo.
As others have written about Cursillo, the most important part is not necessarily the three days committed to the weekend, but what follows. On the last day of the retreat the candidates will hear the real reason for Cursillo - small group formation, AKA prayer groups. I have been attending my small group (in Cursillo parlance - Group Reunion) every Saturday morning at 6:45 for about twenty years. I think it's safe to say that whatever was uncovered in me on that weekend stuck!
For my own journey, the bigger idea that I have come away with is the idea of bringing that "Mountain-Top" experience back down that three-day mountain with me to bring the light of Christ into the world. From inside (my perspective) I know I fail - a lot; from without (perception of me from others) I'm told I can be a great help and knowledgeable guide.
As you are to me, and have been for quite a number of years now.
Your writing always generates considerable thought, but your "Substack Good-bye" is the gateway to a profound truth hardly ever discussed in Catholic publications: the relationship of liturgy, spirituality and psychology. [By the way, I went to Publix to buy a greeting card for ending a blogsite, but they were out of stock.]
I say this as one who has just renewed a psychotherapy license which involved three days of workshops and came away with a sense that present-day theories and practices in mental health care are as shallow and ineffective as many Catholic renewal practices after the Council. But I have never lost faith in the need for honest self-discovery and process.
You actually opened two doors of thought here. First, there are many parish religious groupings--devotional and formational--led by individuals who know nothing of the principles of group process. For example, do we advise folks that confidentiality cannot be guaranteed, a point you alluded to from your own experience? Curiously, with Pope Francis introducing us to Synodality--a group process as I understand it--I would have thought issues of that sort might have received some analysis in Catholic media. Church employees in groups with their pastors? Of course, in most U.S, dioceses the bishops ignored Pope Francis' call, so maybe the Synod example is an irrelevant one.
The bigger concern, the second door, is the integration of sacramental rites to psychological realities. Two quick examples, the Eucharist and Penance. I imagine you, like me, heard plenty of teaching about the Mass as "community," [along with "source and summit']. The 1970 Missal was restructured to facilitate community, a word with a million synonyms. In truth, attending a large parish, I am not swept off my feet by enthusiastic camaraderie. The just released "Catholicism at a Crossroads" [2025] addresses this issue in Chapter Five on Race. A sidebar point--is there room for the introvert Catholic under the umbrella of community?
Consider Confession. I was taught--correctly--that sin and forgiveness are a matter of "metanoia" or a major change in personal moral orientation. The ancient monks taught that staying the same was actually falling behind. And yet our pastoral practice posted in the bulletin is no different from
the rite I first experienced in 1956. Frequent "Devotional Confession" is, to this day, promoted from
the pulpit. But genuine change requires time, counsel, prayer, and sustenance--components requiring more time than the several minutes before Saturday night Mass.
Well, we'll always have work. Leave us a forwarding address.
I went to Search in the late 80’s, in Knoxville. The one real benefit, I see in hindsight, was the feeling of belonging to a Catholic community. There were kids from lots of different high schools. I went to a public school for High School, and Sacred Heart for 2-8th. Being Catholic in the south, I felt like a minority. Did all of those relationships last? Not really. But, it did feel good to go somewhere, and feel like I was not “other.” I was not bullied, but I did have classmates in high school who felt the need to tell me what we were doing wrong. Years later, my older daughter went to diabetes camp every summer. I could see the relief in her… she was normal there.
That said, my Mother-in-Law loved Cursillo and has begged my husband and I to go. (He participated in College Search.) We have no desire. One and done.
I didn't get the letter - or I did - my little brother forgot to give it to me, as my mother passed it on to him at Sacred Heart to pass along to one of the priests, and it was lost.
So I received a letter that said, "Your brother forgot the letter. Typical Bubs. Love, Mom. Hope you had fun."
His nickname was Bubs.
I sat there with the other sobbing kids and pretended to read it over and over since so many kids received pages and pages of love from their parents, but I was so irritated. Couldn't I get my letter, too? I was a Search Leader the following year, and I made it theatrical. But at the time, it was real - my uncle's suicide, (my junior year of HS) became the subject of my faith talk my senior year, but I was in such grief, still, that it still feels like it was more of a drama monologue with John Denver singing "I want to live" at the end. I remember a supersmart kid that I didn't know and who didn't go to Catholic asking me during the weekend if this was all sleep deprivation and brainwashing. It had never occurred to me, so I told him no, but he wasn't convinced, being so emotionally drained as was I...I never forgot what he asked and how he asked me that question, and I knew there was some truth to it.
My senior retreat in 1977 was at the former Dominican convent on the grounds of Mercy Hospital on Long Island. I got a room to myself - a luxury for me, since I was currently sharing my one at home with my ailing grandmother. Part of the retreat was writing our failings or worries (NOT CONFESSION) on a piece of paper that was dropped into a container, then read out solemnly while we all sat around.
The best times for me were the silences. I couldn't understand the girls who sneaked in radios - to be so afraid of the quiet. The house had been steeped in quiet prayer once upon a time. That atmosphere still lingered.
It was the best retreat I ever went on. One that I attended with my college Newman Society was led by a priest who was questioning all his life choices. Heavy, man. At least it had a great view of Long Island Sound.
I only went on one retreat in high school. We had no emotional manipulation. We were simply bored to death by some lady. (I was an Episcopalian at the time.) I would have preferred doing crafts or singing. I’ve known people who did Cursillo and they loved it.
I am active with Cursillo today. Cursillo means ‘short course’ and a lot of preparation goes into the talks given by different people during the weekend but the weekend is no longer seen as the most important part. After the weekend, there are monthly and weekly meetings one can choose to get involved in. It is a way to continue to grow in faith in a group where you have the option to share how you are living your faith and be encouraged with friends.
I was hoping that someday you would do a post on the chronology of the Novus Ordo being introduced.
A couple years ago I was going through my oldest sister's missals, and I discovered that there was an interim stage which I had never known about... and yet it lasted for five whole years.
From the first Sunday of Advent 1964 to the first Sunday of Advent 1969, the United States had Mass that was mostly in English, but still followed the 1962 Missal. I guess it would be called a TEM (as opposed to TLM). It had the traditional nine-part Kyrie, in English, instead of the six-part Novus Ordo version. Sursum Corda was still in Latin, as was "Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum / Et cum spiritu tuo", but the Gloria and the Creed were in English ("Begotten, not made, of one substance with the Father"). Most of the traditional server responses were said by the whole congregation (this had begun even when my mother was in high school), but for some reason the response after the Gospel was said only by the server ("Praise to you, O Christ"). And of course they used the one-year lectionary.
I haven't been able to verify that this was the same in all fifty states, but the text has an imprimatur dated 8/15/1964 from the bishop of Kansas City, and my family never lived anywhere near there, so this seems to have been a nationwide liturgy.
By the way, I certainly don't blame my high school religion teachers for these dubious choices. They were watching their world vanish. Our most beloved religion teacher (who was also a mom of two students at our school) spent several weeks on sexual topics, and she presented a huge number of reasons why we shoudln't have premarital sex. Every approach was included: it's cruel to emotionally manipulate a girl into sleeping with you (it was an all-boys school), "boys play at love to get sex, girls play at sex to get love," it's so much better if you wait, contraception is unreliable (we had to memorize the failure rates for each method), etc. Yet all the time she was silently giving us the impression that she knew this was a lost cause, because we were all going to do it anyway. She even mentioned that her college-age son was sleeping with his girlfriend, but he had respected his mom enough to tell her about it.
At my twenty-year reunion I found that the majority of my fellow alumni were no longer practicing their faith. A significant minority seemed lukewarm, but had returned to church when they had kids of their own. There were two people who were serious Christians (myself a revert, and another who had joined a Pentecostal church).
Amy, I think it's almost impossible to separate cause from effect here. Our religion teachers honestly thought the best way to reach us was through Jesus Christ Superstar music.... but they also honestly loved that music.
Absolutely! And I liked it too! It's just so strange that for a time *that* - all of that was *all* that we had as young Catholics. It happened *so* fast - the difference between 1965 and 1975 is....almost unbelievable. It is no wonder we are still working through it.
This sounds just like my senior-year Kairos Retreat (1982 in the Los Angeles suburbs).
I'm still grateful for the experience, but I definitely understand how manipulative it was. Also, there was a certain amount of "competition" among students who had gone on the retreat to become leaders at a future retreat. We had four retreats each year. They were all for seniors, except for the fourth, which had a small number of hand-selected juniors to preserve continuity. The hand-selected juniors would almost always become the leaders at the first retreat next year.
One of the best things about being a leader is you got to select the song which would be played before your presentation. Cat Stevens' "On the Road To Find Out", George Benson's "The Greatest Love of All", Diana Ross' "Theme from Mahogany", the theme from Greatest American Hero, you get the idea....
I tried to comment on your page about Charlotte but it was so difficult that I gave up. Just wanted you to know.
As usual, a terrific, thoughtful (and thought-provoking) post. I think I may be a couple years your senior, so the time of which you speak growing up rings very familiar to me. I did not make TEC until I was 44 years old. No, I wasn't a late bloomer! I was far too rebellious as a teen to attend something so based as a Teens Encounter Christ weekend retreat.
It was in the '90s (and I in my 30s) that too many children in my extended family did not have a father figure or adult male to be a role model for what a Christian man might look like, or how he might act, or think or talk. So I decided I needed to step up and be that role model for them. I got involved with the Youth Ministry at my parish, which only helped strengthen the foundations of my own faith. From there I graduated to more mature programs such as the parish-based WATCH (We Are The Church) program, and then on to TEC, and a few years later, Cursillo.
As others have written about Cursillo, the most important part is not necessarily the three days committed to the weekend, but what follows. On the last day of the retreat the candidates will hear the real reason for Cursillo - small group formation, AKA prayer groups. I have been attending my small group (in Cursillo parlance - Group Reunion) every Saturday morning at 6:45 for about twenty years. I think it's safe to say that whatever was uncovered in me on that weekend stuck!
For my own journey, the bigger idea that I have come away with is the idea of bringing that "Mountain-Top" experience back down that three-day mountain with me to bring the light of Christ into the world. From inside (my perspective) I know I fail - a lot; from without (perception of me from others) I'm told I can be a great help and knowledgeable guide.
As you are to me, and have been for quite a number of years now.
God Bless You, Amy.
Amy,
Your writing always generates considerable thought, but your "Substack Good-bye" is the gateway to a profound truth hardly ever discussed in Catholic publications: the relationship of liturgy, spirituality and psychology. [By the way, I went to Publix to buy a greeting card for ending a blogsite, but they were out of stock.]
I say this as one who has just renewed a psychotherapy license which involved three days of workshops and came away with a sense that present-day theories and practices in mental health care are as shallow and ineffective as many Catholic renewal practices after the Council. But I have never lost faith in the need for honest self-discovery and process.
You actually opened two doors of thought here. First, there are many parish religious groupings--devotional and formational--led by individuals who know nothing of the principles of group process. For example, do we advise folks that confidentiality cannot be guaranteed, a point you alluded to from your own experience? Curiously, with Pope Francis introducing us to Synodality--a group process as I understand it--I would have thought issues of that sort might have received some analysis in Catholic media. Church employees in groups with their pastors? Of course, in most U.S, dioceses the bishops ignored Pope Francis' call, so maybe the Synod example is an irrelevant one.
The bigger concern, the second door, is the integration of sacramental rites to psychological realities. Two quick examples, the Eucharist and Penance. I imagine you, like me, heard plenty of teaching about the Mass as "community," [along with "source and summit']. The 1970 Missal was restructured to facilitate community, a word with a million synonyms. In truth, attending a large parish, I am not swept off my feet by enthusiastic camaraderie. The just released "Catholicism at a Crossroads" [2025] addresses this issue in Chapter Five on Race. A sidebar point--is there room for the introvert Catholic under the umbrella of community?
Consider Confession. I was taught--correctly--that sin and forgiveness are a matter of "metanoia" or a major change in personal moral orientation. The ancient monks taught that staying the same was actually falling behind. And yet our pastoral practice posted in the bulletin is no different from
the rite I first experienced in 1956. Frequent "Devotional Confession" is, to this day, promoted from
the pulpit. But genuine change requires time, counsel, prayer, and sustenance--components requiring more time than the several minutes before Saturday night Mass.
Well, we'll always have work. Leave us a forwarding address.
Tom
I went to Search in the late 80’s, in Knoxville. The one real benefit, I see in hindsight, was the feeling of belonging to a Catholic community. There were kids from lots of different high schools. I went to a public school for High School, and Sacred Heart for 2-8th. Being Catholic in the south, I felt like a minority. Did all of those relationships last? Not really. But, it did feel good to go somewhere, and feel like I was not “other.” I was not bullied, but I did have classmates in high school who felt the need to tell me what we were doing wrong. Years later, my older daughter went to diabetes camp every summer. I could see the relief in her… she was normal there.
That said, my Mother-in-Law loved Cursillo and has begged my husband and I to go. (He participated in College Search.) We have no desire. One and done.
I didn't get the letter - or I did - my little brother forgot to give it to me, as my mother passed it on to him at Sacred Heart to pass along to one of the priests, and it was lost.
So I received a letter that said, "Your brother forgot the letter. Typical Bubs. Love, Mom. Hope you had fun."
His nickname was Bubs.
I sat there with the other sobbing kids and pretended to read it over and over since so many kids received pages and pages of love from their parents, but I was so irritated. Couldn't I get my letter, too? I was a Search Leader the following year, and I made it theatrical. But at the time, it was real - my uncle's suicide, (my junior year of HS) became the subject of my faith talk my senior year, but I was in such grief, still, that it still feels like it was more of a drama monologue with John Denver singing "I want to live" at the end. I remember a supersmart kid that I didn't know and who didn't go to Catholic asking me during the weekend if this was all sleep deprivation and brainwashing. It had never occurred to me, so I told him no, but he wasn't convinced, being so emotionally drained as was I...I never forgot what he asked and how he asked me that question, and I knew there was some truth to it.
Thank you for writing this, Amy xo
My senior retreat in 1977 was at the former Dominican convent on the grounds of Mercy Hospital on Long Island. I got a room to myself - a luxury for me, since I was currently sharing my one at home with my ailing grandmother. Part of the retreat was writing our failings or worries (NOT CONFESSION) on a piece of paper that was dropped into a container, then read out solemnly while we all sat around.
The best times for me were the silences. I couldn't understand the girls who sneaked in radios - to be so afraid of the quiet. The house had been steeped in quiet prayer once upon a time. That atmosphere still lingered.
It was the best retreat I ever went on. One that I attended with my college Newman Society was led by a priest who was questioning all his life choices. Heavy, man. At least it had a great view of Long Island Sound.
I only went on one retreat in high school. We had no emotional manipulation. We were simply bored to death by some lady. (I was an Episcopalian at the time.) I would have preferred doing crafts or singing. I’ve known people who did Cursillo and they loved it.
I am active with Cursillo today. Cursillo means ‘short course’ and a lot of preparation goes into the talks given by different people during the weekend but the weekend is no longer seen as the most important part. After the weekend, there are monthly and weekly meetings one can choose to get involved in. It is a way to continue to grow in faith in a group where you have the option to share how you are living your faith and be encouraged with friends.
I was hoping that someday you would do a post on the chronology of the Novus Ordo being introduced.
A couple years ago I was going through my oldest sister's missals, and I discovered that there was an interim stage which I had never known about... and yet it lasted for five whole years.
From the first Sunday of Advent 1964 to the first Sunday of Advent 1969, the United States had Mass that was mostly in English, but still followed the 1962 Missal. I guess it would be called a TEM (as opposed to TLM). It had the traditional nine-part Kyrie, in English, instead of the six-part Novus Ordo version. Sursum Corda was still in Latin, as was "Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum / Et cum spiritu tuo", but the Gloria and the Creed were in English ("Begotten, not made, of one substance with the Father"). Most of the traditional server responses were said by the whole congregation (this had begun even when my mother was in high school), but for some reason the response after the Gospel was said only by the server ("Praise to you, O Christ"). And of course they used the one-year lectionary.
I haven't been able to verify that this was the same in all fifty states, but the text has an imprimatur dated 8/15/1964 from the bishop of Kansas City, and my family never lived anywhere near there, so this seems to have been a nationwide liturgy.
I remember this transition period, too. It would have been much better to do something like this than what actually happened.
That was what was known as “the transitional missal” and everyone thought that was where we were going. The 1970 Novus Ordo was a terrible shock.
I went through a very similar retreat in the 2010's. Interesting hearing where it came from.
I never cried. I thought something was wrong with me.
By the way, I certainly don't blame my high school religion teachers for these dubious choices. They were watching their world vanish. Our most beloved religion teacher (who was also a mom of two students at our school) spent several weeks on sexual topics, and she presented a huge number of reasons why we shoudln't have premarital sex. Every approach was included: it's cruel to emotionally manipulate a girl into sleeping with you (it was an all-boys school), "boys play at love to get sex, girls play at sex to get love," it's so much better if you wait, contraception is unreliable (we had to memorize the failure rates for each method), etc. Yet all the time she was silently giving us the impression that she knew this was a lost cause, because we were all going to do it anyway. She even mentioned that her college-age son was sleeping with his girlfriend, but he had respected his mom enough to tell her about it.
At my twenty-year reunion I found that the majority of my fellow alumni were no longer practicing their faith. A significant minority seemed lukewarm, but had returned to church when they had kids of their own. There were two people who were serious Christians (myself a revert, and another who had joined a Pentecostal church).
Amy, I think it's almost impossible to separate cause from effect here. Our religion teachers honestly thought the best way to reach us was through Jesus Christ Superstar music.... but they also honestly loved that music.
Absolutely! And I liked it too! It's just so strange that for a time *that* - all of that was *all* that we had as young Catholics. It happened *so* fast - the difference between 1965 and 1975 is....almost unbelievable. It is no wonder we are still working through it.
This sounds just like my senior-year Kairos Retreat (1982 in the Los Angeles suburbs).
I'm still grateful for the experience, but I definitely understand how manipulative it was. Also, there was a certain amount of "competition" among students who had gone on the retreat to become leaders at a future retreat. We had four retreats each year. They were all for seniors, except for the fourth, which had a small number of hand-selected juniors to preserve continuity. The hand-selected juniors would almost always become the leaders at the first retreat next year.
One of the best things about being a leader is you got to select the song which would be played before your presentation. Cat Stevens' "On the Road To Find Out", George Benson's "The Greatest Love of All", Diana Ross' "Theme from Mahogany", the theme from Greatest American Hero, you get the idea....