Ever had to explain the ins and outs of the Catholic faith to a curious non-Catholic observer? Not so much doctrine or Scripture or even the Church's moral teachings — but the things we, as Catholics, do to express and live out our faith?

If so, you might draw inspiration from St. Ignatius of Antioch, whose feast we celebrate Oct. 17.

Way back in the Church's first century, he took it upon himself to write a series of letters encouraging the Church to carry on with its practices — all while being transported to Rome to face the lions in the Colosseum. (He also may have been the first person to call the Body of Christ the Catholic Church, at least in writing — and a tradition holds that, when he was a boy, he was the child Jesus called to his side in Matthew 18.)

“I no longer take pleasure in perishable food or in the delights of this world,” he wrote. “I want only God's bread, which is the flesh of Jesus Christ, formed from the seed of David; and for drink I crave his blood, which is love that cannot perish.”

Would that we all had that kind of passion for explaining why we do what we do.

And, let's face it: We do a lot of things that can befuddle the casual observer.

Take genuflection, a small gesture but one that says a great deal, explains Al Kresta, host of Ave Maria radio's “Kresta in the Afternoon” and author of Why Do Catholics Genuflect?

“It's a rehearsal for that moment at the end of history when we're all going to end up bending the knee,” he says. “We need to learn to do that now to learn to submit to the one who created and redeemed us.”

We do this in particular before the Blessed Sacrament, continues Kresta. “We're recognizing the real presence in the Blessed Sacrament of Jesus himself right there. The principle: We're in the presence of divinity is what drives us to our knees.”

“Genuflection,” adds Conventual Franciscan Father John Grigus of Marytown, the National Shrine of St. Maximilian Kolbe in Libertyville, Ill.,“is a sensible sign we truly believe in the King of kings, so it's a form of praying and of witnessing our faith in public. That little gesture can teach a whole sense of reverence when you are in church.”

Another public practice that puzzles, one sometimes forgotten nowadays, is the lighting of votive candles. What's up with that?

It's an old symbol for watching and waiting, explains Paul Thigpen, editor of The Catholic Answer magazine and author of a number of books, including Blood of the Martyrs, Seed of the Church (Charis, 2001). “We say a prayer lighting it for a particular intention,” he says. “The candle continues to burn after we leave the church as a sign that God has not forgotten nor have we, and our prayer continues to rise toward heaven.”

Sending Signals

And then there's the novena. It's a nine-day period of prayer and preparation, Kresta says, pointing out that it corresponds to the period of time the apostles and the Blessed Mother waited for the Holy Spirit to descend on the day of Pentecost.

Novenas can be nine days in a row, or, for example, nine consecutive Mondays. Some are connected to a particular devotion, such as to the Sacred Heart or the Blessed Mother. In a sense the “Nine First Fridays” devotion is a novena to the Sacred Heart. When something was urgent, Blessed Mother Teresa's “express novena” consisted of nine Memorares prayed right away.

“My wedding anniversary falls on the feast of St Joseph the Husband,” says Kresta, “and I will do a novena. I've always kept in mind all of us fall short in comparison to St Joseph, and a husband is to love his wife as Christ loves the Church. When I become most aware of the disparity between Jesus’ love for his Church and my love for my wife, I go to St. Joseph to enlarge my heart, sharpen my mind, and give me resolve and strength to be the husband I was created to be. This helps me to fulfill my vocation as a husband, to fulfill my vows to my wife, Sally, and be what Christ is to the Church.”

Relics — objects connected to saints — connect Catholics to the afterlife and the Communion of Saints.

In 2003, when Kresta had his left leg amputated following a devastating illness, friends gave him a relic of St. Anthony of Padua, patron saint of amputees.

“These relics are links to eternity,” he says. “We believe saints’ bones, for example, in some way continue to carry the intercessory power of the saint. Their remains (or objects they wore or used, or even objects touched to those objects) have become a way of connecting us to a greater reality: Death has been shattered. Relics are so perfectly connected with the Incarnation.”

Holy pictures and holy medals are reminders of the mysterious “trafficking” that takes place between heaven and hell. As a convert years ago, Thigpen was somewhat startled by the number of holy pictures of Our Lord and the saints in many Catholics’ homes. He caught on soon enough.

“I see this as parallel to the family pictures we have everywhere,” he says. “Walk into my home and you see pictures of siblings, family, ancestors. How could we fail to display pictures of our spiritual family?”

The principle is similar when it comes to wearable items such as the Miraculous Medal, whose design was revealed in 1830 to St. Catherine Laboure at her Daughters of Charity convent in France. Such items are “kind of a direct contact with Mary, Our Lord and the saints, says Father Grigus. “They're like icons we wear on the person, symbolic of our desire to be in union with them, to receive their protection and seek their intercessions.”

When blessed by a priest, he says, they're sacramentals communicating to us the deeper reality they signify. “Our Lady is not just a human being on a medal but truly a means by which we commune with Christ.”

Sometimes the priest will use holy water to bless a sacramental or a new Bible or even a statue of a saint.

Holy water? Did someone say holy water?

Holy water is, of course, plain water that's been blessed by a priest — at which point it becomes a symbol of spiritual cleansing and invokes God's blessing on all who use it.

With it we make the Sign of the Cross, a practice going back to the Church's early days, says Thigpen. “Christians would cross themselves throughout the day as a way of reminding themselves that Jesus said we must carry our cross every day.”

Evil Flees

And it's also a warning to the devil, he adds. “Ancient Christians realized the devil hated the Sign of the Cross,” he notes. “When they felt temptation or feared his onslaught, they would make the sign of the cross as a way of telling him to back off.”

Thigpen points out that the devil fears and hates holy water and sacramentals, too.

Blessing homes with holy water brings spiritual protection. We bless them, says Father Grigus, so they can be homes in which the Lord dwells, communicating his peace, protection and love — which allow us to be a family of God and to communicate more of the reality of heaven to others.

Genuflecting, relics and the other “mysterious” physical objects and actions of the faith all belong to the realm of the corporeal, where flesh and spirit meet, explains Father Grigus.

Such physicality is “a vehicle for penetrating into the heavenly realm which we cannot see,” he says.

“Kids can understand gesture, movement, words, certain objects like light and water,” he says. “And these things, when explained simply, can be a rich source in educating our children in the deeper meaning of faith from early on.”

“No earthly pleasures, no kingdoms of this world can benefit me in any way,” wrote St. Ignatius of Antioch sometime around the year 100. “I prefer death in Christ Jesus to power over the farthest limits of the earth. He who died in place of us is the one object of my quest. He who rose for our sakes is my one desire.”

A better rationale for why we do what we do could hardly be offered.

Joseph Pronechen writes from Trumbull, Connecticut.