Impressive Catechesis

How to leave a mark, form character, and make an impression in catechesis.

By Alex Fogleman

The title and subtitle of this post constitute a litany of rather poor puns. But they are theologically and anthropologically very interesting puns, and so I feel quite justified in making them. Also I am a dad.

In English, we use a host of words to describe things that affect a person—“leaving a mark” or “making an impression.” Not far off is “forming character.” These metaphors emerge from an ancient understanding of the human person, which imagined the soul as a kind of wax tablet upon which images and ideas were “stamped” or “impressed” like letters stamped upon a tablet. This image is retained in the double-meaning of the English word “character,” which can refer both to a person of good or poor character as well as letters on a page. There’s a more distant resemblance in the word “type,” which comes from the Greek word typos and is also linked with words like typology. Typos can mean a literary mark, such as a seal or inscription, but can also be used to refer to several other ideas: “copy,” ”image,” “archetype,” and even “example” (see 1 Cor. 10:1).

One of the most famous uses of this metaphor comes from Plato’s Theaetetus, where Plato has Socrates describe memory in terms of making an impression upon a wax tablet:

Socrates: “Please assume, then, for the sake of argument, that there is in our souls a block of wax, in one case larger, in another smaller, in one case the wax is purer, in another more impure and harder, in some cases softer.”

Theaetetus: “I assume all that.”

Socrates: “Let us, then, say that this is the gift of Memory, the mother of the Muses, and that whenever we wish to remember anything we see or hear or think of in our own minds, we hold this wax under the perceptions and thoughts and imprint them upon it, just as we make impressions from seal rings; and whatever is imprinted we remember and know as long as its image lasts, but whatever is rubbed out or cannot be imprinted we forget and do not know.” (Plato, Theaetetus 191c-d)

In this view, memory is created through the person receiving various phenomena or images and then holding the wax tablet of the soul “under” these perceptions and allowing them to be stamped on the tablet/soul. The better the quality of the wax and the more solid the impression, the more enduring the memory.

Meanwhile, several biblical passages from the Old and New Testament present a similar image. For instance:  

Prov. 7:3 (LXX): Bind them [the commandments] on your fingers; Write them on the tablet of your heart.

(περίθου δὲ αὐτοὺς σοῗς δακτύλοις ἐπίγραψον δὲ ἐπὶ τὸ πλάτος τῆς καρδίας σου)

Jer. 31:33 (LXX 38:33): But this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, says the LORD: I will put My law in their minds, and write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be My people.

(ὅτι αὕτη ἡ διαθήκη ἣν διαθήσομαι τῷ οἴκῳ Ισραηλ μετὰ τὰς ἡμέρας ἐκείνας φησὶν κύριος διδοὺς δώσω νόμους μου εἰς τὴν διάνοιαν αὐτῶν καὶ ἐπὶ καρδίας αὐτῶν γράψω αὐτούς καὶ ἔσομαι αὐτοῗς εἰς θεόν καὶ αὐτοὶ ἔσονταί μοι εἰς λαόν.)

2 Cor. 3:2-3: Clearly you are an epistle of Christ, ministered by us, written not with ink but by the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of flesh, that is, of the heart.

(φανερούμενοι ὅτι ἐστὲ ἐπιστολὴ Χριστοῦ διακονηθεῖσα ὑφ᾽ ἡμῶν ἐγγεγραμμένη οὐ μέλανι ἀλλὰ πνεύματι θεοῦ ζῶντος οὐκ ἐν πλαξὶν λιθίναις ἀλλ᾽ ἐν πλαξὶν καρδίας σαρκίναις)

In the biblical and classical world of antiquity, we find a close connection between writing and the heart. The heart or soul—the inner person—was receptive to a kind of spiritual writing. We might call this a kind of cardiological calligraphy.

Besides the world of literary composition, the other context to consider these inscription metaphors is the political world and the making of imperial coinage. Every time a new emperor took power, he had his image stamped upon a coin and disseminated throughout his realm. The production of such coins signified the broad reach of imperial power and its ideal of social cohesion.

We catch a glimpse of the correlation between politics and coin images in the famous pericope from the Gospels where Jesus tells his interlocutors, after asking asking them whose image is borne on the denarius, to “render to Caesar what is Caesar’s and to God what is God’s” (Mark 12:17; par.) Jesus’ response, as Claudia Rapp notes, “is based on the assumption that the coin image serves the same function as the stamp on a seal, to declare ownership.” Images stamped upon coins signified not only authority and power but also a sense of community and belonging. Those who circulated such coins signified and enacted their citizenship within the polis.

Inscription images were picked up quite early in the Christian tradition. Ignatius connects virtue with the commandments “written on the tablet of the heart” (Ign. Rom. 2). Clement of Alexandria will deploy the image in greater depth, comparing the Christian’s identity not only to image inscription but also to the branding of an animal:

A Christian “has the name of God inscribed through Christ, and has the Spirit as his image. Also, voiceless animals advertise who their owner is because of the seal [that is brandished on them]. And ownership is claimed on the basis of the seal. Thus also the soul of the faithful, as it receives the seal of [divine] Truth, carries around the imprint of Christ.” (Excerpta ex Theodoto 4.86. 1–2. Translation, Claudia Rapp)

Elsewhere he writes of the tablets of the heart as “laws of reason” on the heart:

These are the laws of reason, words that impart inspiration, written by the hand of the Lord, not on tablets of stone but inscribed in the hearts of men, provided only that those hearts are not attached to corruption. Therefore, the tablets of the hard of heart have been broken, that the faith of little ones might be formed in impressionable minds. Both laws served the Word as means of educating humanity, the one through Moses, the other through the apostles. But what a means of education is the one given through the apostles! (Christ the Educator 3.12.94; FC 23:270)

With Origen, we find a reference to the “tablets of the heart” image being used in the context of theological education more generally. The study of divine things is akin to having Christ’s “sketch” on the heart, one is rendered more receptive to “the beauty of the perfect image” in the future:

Now we have not received this longing from God on the condition that it should not or could not ever be satisfied.… So when even in this life men devote themselves with great labor to sacred and religious studies, although they obtain only some small fragments out of the immeasurable treasures of divine knowledge, yet [they gain this advantage, that] they occupy their mind and understanding with these questions and press onward in their eager desire. Moreover they derive much assistance from the fact that by turning their mind to the study and love of truth they render themselves more capable of receiving instruction in the future. For when one wishes to paint a picture, if he first sketches with the faint touch of a light pencil the outlines of the proposed figure and inserts suitable marks to indicate features afterward to be added, this preliminary drawing with its faint outline undoubtedly renders the canvas more prepared to receive the true colors. So it will be with us, if only that faint form and outline is inscribed “on the tablets of our heart” by the pencil of our Lord Jesus Christ.… It is clear, then, that to those who have now in this life a kind of outline of truth and knowledge there shall be added in the future the beauty of the perfect image. (On First Principles 2.11.4)

Finally—the point to which we’ve been leading until now—the inscription imagery becomes commonplace in baptismal instruction on the creed. In what remains, I want to point to a few key passages where see the image of writing on the heart in catechesis. Most of are from credal instruction but not all. These passages convey (sorry for one last pun) the graphic significance of credal instruction and its corresponding spiritual inscription.

In teaching and memorizing the creed, we are doing far more than reciting a text for a bishop’s approval. We are participating in the Spirit’s writing of the new covenant upon the heart. We join in the Lord’s work of impressing his own image upon the hearts and minds of those who are being transferred into the kingdom of Christ.

Cyril of Jerusalem, Cat. 5.12

In learning and professing the Faith, acquire and keep only that which is now delivered to you by the Church, and which has been built up strongly out of all the Scriptures. For since not everyone can read the Scriptures—-some for whom knowledge is hindered by a lack of learning, others by a lack of leisure—we comprise the whole doctrine of the Faith in a few lines so that the soul may not perish from ignorance. 

This summary I wish you both to commit to memory when I recite it and to rehearse it with all diligence among yourselves. You are not to write it out on paper but engrave it by memory upon your heart, taking care while you rehearse it so that no catechumen happens to overhear the things that have been delivered to you. 

I wish you also to keep this as a provision through the whole course of your life, and to receive no other besides this one—neither if we ourselves should change and contradict our present teaching nor if an adverse angel transformed into an angel of light (2 Cor. 11:14) should wish to lead you astray. “For if we or an angel from heaven were to preach to you any other gospel than what you have received, let him be to you anathema” (Gal. 1:8–9).

So for now, listen while I simply say the Creed, and commit it to memory. But at the proper time, look for confirmation from Holy Scripture of each part of the contents. For the articles of the Faith were not composed as seemed good to men. The most important points collected out of all the Scripture make up one complete teaching of the Faith. And just as the mustard seed in one small grain contains many branches, so also this Faith has embraced in few words all the knowledge of godliness in the Old and New Testaments. Take heed then, brethren, and hold fast the traditions which you now receive, and write them on the table of your heart (2 Thess. 2:15; Prov. 7:3).

Basil of Caesarea, Homily 17 (On Psalm 44)

As the pen is an instrument for writing when the hand of an experienced person moves it to record what is being written, so also the tongue of the just man, when the Holy Spirit moves it, writes the words of eternal life in the hearts of the faithful, dipped “not in ink but in the Spirit of the living God” (2 Cor. 3:3). The scribe, therefore, is the Holy Spirit, because he is wise and an apt teacher of all. And the Spirit writes swiftly, because the movement of his mind is swift. The Spirit writes thoughts in us, “not on tablets of stone but on fleshy tablets of the heart.” In proportion to the size of the heart, the Spirit writes in hearts more or less, either things evident to all or things more obscure, according to the heart’s previous purity. Because of the speed with which the writings have been finished, all the world now is filled with the gospel. (FC 46:281–82)

Gregory of Nazianzus, Or. 40.44-45

If your heart is written upon in some other way than as my teaching demands, come and have the writing changed. I am no unskilled caligrapher of these truths. I write that which is written upon my own heart. And I teach what I have been taught and have kept from the beginning up to these gray hairs. Mine is the risk; mine also is the reward of being the director of your soul, and consecrating you by baptism. But if you are already rightly disposed, and marked with the good inscription, see that you keep what is written, and remain unchanged in this changing time about the unchanging Reality…. (Or. 40.44)

But perhaps there is not yet formed upon your soul any writing, good or bad, and you want to be written upon today, and formed by us unto perfection. Let us go within the cloud (Exod. 27:18). Give me the tables of your heart. I will be your Moses (though this is a bold thing to say). I will write with the finger of God a new Decalogue on them (Ex. 38:28). I will write on them a summary of salvation. And if there be any heretical or unreasoning beast, let him remain below, or he will run the risk of being stoned by the Word of truth. I will baptize you and make you a disciple in the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost; and These Three have One common name, the Godhead. And you shall know, both by appearances (Matt. 28:19) and by words that you reject all ungodliness, and are united to all the Godhead. (Or. 40.45)

Ambrose of Milan, On the Holy Spirit 3

By this finger, as we read, God wrote on the stone tablets that Moses received. For not with a finger of flesh did God make the forms and elements of those letters we read; by his Spirit he gave the law. And so the apostle said: “For the law is spiritual, which indeed is written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God; not in tables of stone but in fleshly tables of the heart” (2 Cor. 3:30). For, if the letter of the apostle is written in the Spirit, what stands in the way of our being obliged to believe that the law of God was written not in ink but in the Spirit of God, which surely does not stain the secrets of our heart and mind but illuminates them? The Holy Spirit 3.3.13 (FC 44:158-9) 

Augustine, Sermon 212

You should not write the creed out in any way, but, so as to hold the exact words of the creed, learn it by listening. Not even when you have learned it should you write it down, but, rather, always hold it and cherish it in your memory. For whatever you will hear in the creed is contained in the inspired books of the Holy Scriptures. The fact that it is not permitted to write down what has been thus collected and reduced to a definite form comes about in memory of the promise of God in which, predicting a New Testament, he said in the words of the prophet: “This is the covenant that I will make with them after those days, says the Lord, by setting my law in their minds, I will write it also in their hearts.” (s. 212.1-2)

Augustine, On the Creed to Catechumens (s. 398.1)

Receive, sons and daughters, the rule of faith, which is called the symbol. And when you have received it, write it on your hearts, and say it to yourselves every day; before you go to sleep, before you go out in the morning, fortify yourselves with your symbol. Nobody writes a symbol for it to be read, but for purposes of recall. To prevent forgetfulness from deleting what carefulness has handed over to you, let your memories be your books. What you are going to hear is what you are going to believe, and what you have believed is also what you are going to give back with your tongues. The apostle says, after all, “With the heart one believes unto justice, but with the mouth one makes confession unto salvation” (Rom 10:10). This, you see, is the symbol which you are going to get by heart and give back.

Peter Chrysologus, Sermon 56.5

Faith—which is received by hearing, believed with the heart, and uttered by the mouth for salvation—must be placed in the sanctuary (secreto) of our mind and must be committed to and kept alive in our very heart, lest it be written imprudently with paper and ink, and not be reserved for the faithful for life, but be revealed to unbelievers for their destruction. You must keep secure within yourself, O man, what will likely go to ruin, with you to blame, if it is placed outside yourself (s. 56.5; FC 220, alt.).

Peter Chrysologus, Sermon 58.2

Therefore, as you are about to receive the Creed, that is, the pact of life, the pledge of salvation, and the indissoluble bond of faith between you and God, prepare your hearts, not a piece of paper; sharpen your understanding, not your pen; and write out what you have heard, not with ink, but with your spirit at your service. Recognize that the eternal and heavenly secret cannot be entrusted to perishable, corruptible tools, but it must be placed in the safe of the soul itself, in the very library (bibliotheca) of the spirit within you, so that no profane investigator, nor the power of the enemy may find anything to dissect and tear apart. Otherwise what has been bestowed for the salvation of the person who professes and believes may become the ruin of the one who despises it and is ignorant of it. But when the prophet says to you: “Open your mouth wide, and I shall fill it” (Ps. 80:11 LXX), may you be able to respond: “In my heart I have hidden your eloquence, so that I may not sin against you” (Ps. 118:11 LXX). (FC 222)

References

Susannah Elm, “Inscriptions and Conversions: Gregory of Nazianzus on Baptism (Or. 38–40),” in Conversion in Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages: Seeing and Believing, ed. Kenneth Mills and Anthony Grafton, Studies in Comparative History (Rochester: University of Rochester Press, 2003), 1–35.

Claudia Rapp, “Late Antique Metaphors for the Shaping of Christian Identity: Coins, Seals and Contracts,” in Fuzzy Boundaries: Festschrift für Antonio Loprieno, ed. H. Amstutz, A. Dorn, M. Müller, M. Ronsdorf, and S. Uljas (Hamburg: Widmaier Verlag , 2015), 727–44.