The catechistic method In practice

I remember in college people sneering at the use of the catechistic method as something outdated at best, barbaric, ridiculous, and sinister at worst.

I have never felt that way about it. I like the method. There is simply no substitution for memory by route. Sometimes, when push comes to shove, you need something safe, something memorized, something familiar to fall back on. This is why children love reading the same board book 8 million times every night and why we, as adults, love reading our children the same books our parents read to us. We know them. They are ours. They are safe, comfortable, lovely. As my father reminds us so often, the philosopher says, "there is pleasure in repetition."

So, we've started using this method with Jack:

It began on his birthday in May, as I wound up and down the isles in Wal-mart:
"Jack, how old are you?"
"Two!"

(With his arm thrown confidently in the air, presenting his two sausage fingers)

And continued:
"What is your name?"
"Jack!"
"what is your last name?"
"TriLOlo!"

(Always with great enthusiasm, and, unless he's strapped down, a hop, skip or a jump. Because he's a boy and everything comes with a bounce.)

And my favorite:
"Who made you?"
"God!"
"And why did God make you?"
"Because Him LOVES me!"

Said with such utter enthusiasm! I don't know if he loves this one the most because I do, or if it is because he realizes the awesomeness of it in some way, but he likes to ask me back:

"Mamma, Who made you??"
and I say, "God!"
and he says "Why did Him make you?!"
and I say, "because he loves me!
and he says, "Him loves YOU!"

And we are happy, and it is good. Because we know that it is true, we know that it is right. I enjoy that Jack knows and he enjoys that he knows and he enjoys that I enjoy that he knows. And yes, this is very sinister.