When I was a graduate student, one of my professors would argue that the English word “church” derives from the Hebrew term qahal. This was a class on ecclesiology that introduced me to the idea of what constitutes the Church and how it came to be formed. As I read the book Formative Theological Education, edited by Colleen M. Griffith and Hosffman Ospino, I got the sense that instead of reading this book from a catechetical or pedagogical perspective, it really invited me to read it from an ecclesiological one. In other words, what Griffith, Ospino, et al. present—more than an educational or catechetical treatise—is an exploration of a contextualized ecclesiology.

The volume includes ten essays written by theologians, many of whom are affiliated with Boston College’s School of Theology and Ministry. The contributors come from diverse theological backgrounds, offering a range of vantage points such as pastoral theology, ecclesiology, liturgy, and intercultural studies. What these authors communicate through these lenses is an approach to theological education that must be rooted in the life of the Church. The qahal—the gathered assembly, the community that responds to God’s call and invitation—is where a formative theological education takes root and belongs.

As I read this text, I recalled my professor’s exaggerated enunciation of the word qahal. As he pronounced the word in his lectures, I understood that he was making a direct reference to God’s invitation for believers to convene and congregate, and thus to form the Church. Many of the authors in Griffith and Ospino’s book agree that a formative theological education takes place and is shaped in that conversation, in the response we give to gather—or more precisely, to form a body, a congregation. The encounter with God takes place in concrete settings, in the reality of people’s lived experiences. This ecclesiology is accomplished by a formative theological education that understands the need to engage concrete persons and intentionally seeks to meet people in their real-life circumstances, as Thomas Groome suggests in his contribution to this text (54 ff).

This book also beckoned me to read it through a catechetical lens, unveiling its power as it offers ideas to carry out a formative theological education, which in essence is mystagogical. In that class on ecclesiology, I learned that living our faith means living in a state of perpetual mystagogy. My professor would suggest that the mysteries of the faith are explored, lived, and celebrated perennially in the liturgy, in word and sacrament, and in the practice of justice. In his chapter, John F. Baldovin, SJ, asserts that liturgy is formative, especially as evidenced and experienced in the culture and context of a people (103). Inspired by Hans Urs von Balthasar, I describe liturgy as a divine-human exchange—a dialogue that takes place between God and the gathered assembly, prompting us into action. Moreover, in her chapter, Nancy Pineda-Madrid proposes that we understand formative theological education as a communal theological anthropology that must be committed to justice (82).

Ecclesiology and catechetics are present in Griffith and Ospino’s book. Yet their work also summons me to read it through one more lens. The phrase sentire cum ecclesia kept coming up in my mind. This maxim is traditionally interpreted to mean that believers ought to be of one mind with Church doctrine. In my reading, however, the phrase manifested itself in its Spanish conceptualization, whereby transformative theological education calls us to live, transmit, and celebrate the faith through Óscar Romero’s episcopal motto: Sentir con la Iglesia. A transformative theological education that leads to praxis is rooted in the balance between faithfulness to the teachings of the Church and the practice of its social justice principles. To paraphrase Ospino, a formative theological education must be willing to take risks (75). These risks involve not only words, lessons, and educational theories but also concrete actions in support of justice and in defense of the oppressed.

While the volume offers profound reflections on formation, it might benefit from a more robust engagement with global perspectives beyond its primarily North American and Catholic contexts. This would be a risk worth taking—so that graduate students in theology and ministry, seminary educators, and catechetical leaders may truly understand how sentir con la Iglesia transforms theological education.