The Dominican friar, Blessed Humbert of Romans O.P. once said "First the bow is bent in study, then the arrow is released in preaching..." These are the sermons and reflections of fr. Lawrence Lew O.P., a Friar Preacher (Dominican), illustrated with some of his photographs.
With language that is strongly reminiscent of the Song of Songs, the prophet Hosea closes with a love song, a passionate plea from God for Israel to return to him. There is something almost plaintive about the way God appeals to his Beloved people. But God is not just speaking to Israel. Today, he speaks to every human soul, to you and to me. For God is in love with Mankind.
As such, St Catherine of Siena called God a “mad Lover”, and she said to him: “Are you indeed in need of your creature? It seems to me you are for you behave as if you could not live without her… Why then are you so mad? Because you have fallen in love with what you have made! You are pleased and delighted over her within yourself, as if you were drunk for her salvation. She runs for you and you go looking for her. She strays and you draw closer to her. You clothed yourself in our humanity and nearer than that you could not have come”. So, the ultimate sign of God’s mad love for us is the Incarnation, which we celebrated on Tuesday, the feast of the Annunciation.
We need to dwell on this beautiful mystery; to marvel in God’s mad love for us, and to know in faith that Christ’s Incarnation is prolonged in the Eucharist. For our “mad Lover” clothes himself not just in our humanity, but even in bread and wine so that he can come so close to us, and be intimately united to us. This is the total love of God for us, that he gives us his whole Self – Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity – in the holy Eucharist.
Lent, which comes from the Old English word for Spring, is thus a time for us to listen for God’s love song again; a time to allow the divine Lover to woo us and seduce us; a time to soak up God’s grace, which falls like gentle dew so that we will “blossom as the lily” (Hos 14:5) and “flourish as a garden” (Hos 14:7). Lent is thus an opportune season to revel and grow in God’s love, which is why the feast of the Annunciation fittingly (often) falls in our Lenten springtime, to remind us of this. Praying before the Eucharist, coming to Mass, meditating on the Incarnation: these are ways to contemplate that ours is a God who loves us with his whole heart, his soul, his mind and strength.
Only when we know this can we love God in return. Only when we know God’s abiding love for us can we love ourselves. And only then can we love our neighbour too. It’s often said that the Lenten exercises of prayer, fasting and almgiving are about loving God, loving ourselves, and loving our neighbour. And this is true. But first of all – and we can never have enough of this – Lent invites us to pray and come here to Mass so that, as Hosea says, God can “heal [our] faithlessness [and] love [us] freely”. We are here to be loved.
Do you know others who are not here, who long for love? Then call them to come: Come here to Christ in the Eucharist; come here to be loved. As Pope Francis says: “[M]ay this Lenten season find the whole Church ready to bear witness to… the Gospel message of the merciful love of God our Father, who is ready to embrace everyone in Christ”. For this is how we can love our neighbour as ourselves: by bringing others here so that they can know and experience the love of Jesus Christ too.
Perhaps we can begin by considering what Jesus did not say in today’s Gospel. He does not say: “He who is not against us is with us”. So, there is still a distinction between those who are explicitly following Christ such as the Twelve, and those who are not.
Rather what Jesus says is: “He that is not against us is for us” (Mk 9:40), and that the lone exorcist has been doing “a mighty work in my name” (Mk 9:39). This suggests that God’s grace is not limited to the Twelve, who stand for the Church. Rather God is free to grant his good gifts to all people, whether or not they are explicitly following Christ; whether or not they are Christians, therefore. As we were reminded in last Sunday’s Gospel, our Father in heaven “makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust” (Mt 5:45). Hence, the Second Vatican Council could teach that “Divine Providence [does not] deny the helps necessary for salvation to those who, without blame on their part, have not yet arrived at an explicit knowledge of God and with His grace strive to live a good life” (Lumen Gentium, §16).
So, Jesus says in today’s Gospel that the apostles should not forbid the good that the man is doing in his name. For any goodness and truth comes from God. As we heard in St James’ letter last week: “Every good endowment and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights” (1:17).
But because there is still a distinction between those who do explicitly follow Christ and those who don’t, it doesn’t follow that the man who does mighty works in Christ’s name should not subsequently become a follower of Jesus Christ. Indeed, if the Church is to encourage all good and truth, and bring forth still more graces, then it needs to lead all men and women of good will to an explicit faith in Christ. Hence Vatican II goes on to say: “Whatever good or truth is found amongst them is looked upon by the Church as a preparation for the Gospel” (ibid.).
It is in this light that the Holy Father said in Evangelii Gaudium, that “frequently, we act as arbiters of grace rather than its facilitators” (§47). For this was what the apostles wanted to do: forbid the good being done, and thus control God’s grace. We’re not to do this. Rather, Christ’s Church has to facilitate God’s grace, that is to say, make it easier for people to grow in grace and virtue, to find the truth and good that every human heart naturally desires and seeks after. As such, the Church must evangelize, must bring all from merely being “for us” to being “with us” as explicit followers of Jesus Christ, visible members of his Body, the Church. Why? Because united with Christ in the Church we have easier ‘access’, so to speak, to God’s grace; more ready and sure means of growing in knowledge and love of God, and so, of being intimately united to One who alone satisfies the deepest desires of the human heart.
Thus, Pope Francis also said: “It is not the same thing to try to build the world with his Gospel as to try to do so by our own lights. We know well that with Jesus life becomes richer and that with him it is easier to find meaning in everything. This is why we evangelize” (EG, §266).
HOMILY for the 10th Anniversary Mass of Fr John Saward Matt 25:1-13
The memorial of Saint Lucy, virgin & martyr
We might think that the virgins in the parable of the wise and foolish virgins carried lamps so that they could see in the dark. But it has been observed that under the clear skies of Middle Eastern villages, women out on the village streets at night can see adequately by moonlight and starlight. Nevertheless, they all carry lamps, not so much to see by as to be seen. For they carry the lamps directly in front of their faces so that “all can witness who they are and where they are going”. So, too, in Swedish culture, processions are held on St Lucy’s day, and the girl playing Lucia famously wears a crown of candles, which serve not to illumine the path but the face.
As a virgin and a martyr, St Lucy is doubly crowned, and the virtues of chaste purity and courage shed light on her face so that all can witness who she is. She is one who, as the Dominican bishop Blessed James of Voragine says, “radiated charity without any impure love”. But the virgin martyr, and indeed, every Christian, is not just witnessed but is seen to be a witness. In The Golden Legend St Lucy thus points to the source of her virtues, saying: “Those who live chaste lives are temples of the Holy Spirit”. Hence, it is God, dwelling in her through grace, who causes her to radiate charity.
As such, we can think of St Lucy like a lamp that is filled with the oil of the Holy Spirit, filled with God’s grace which energizes her to shine with virtue. And virtue, which is shown through good works, sheds a brilliance that, ultimately, glorifies not the saint herself, but, rather, God who is the cause of all good. Thus our Lord says earlier in St Matthew’s Gospel: “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven” (5:16).
Therefore, at our baptism a lit candle is entrusted to us, and we hold this light before our faces not in order that we can be seen, but in order that God’s face can be seen. For each of us are called to co-operate with grace, and, so, radiate charity like St Lucy. Indeed, we are called, as Christians, to be as Christ dwelling among Men; we’re sent to show forth God’s mercy and compassion in the world; we’re needed to shine Christ’s light in the dark places of society. And in the Holy Father’s recent Apostolic Exhortation, we’re reminded that we’re each called, whatever our vocation, to bring the joy of the Gospel to all our contemporaries. So, Pope Francis challenges you and me to “appear as people who wish to share their joy, who point to a horizon of beauty, and who invite others to a delicious banquet. [For] it is not by proselytizing that the Church grows, but ‘by attraction’”, just as one is attracted to the light.
Hence, some will be drawn by the joyful witness of saintly lives like St Lucy’s. As we hear in the Offertorium, “her neighbours shall be brought to God with gladness and rejoicing”. Others will be drawn by beauty, such as is found in the sacred Liturgy and the Church’s treasury of sacred music and art. And others still will be attracted by the Truth expounded in sacra doctrina, in theology, which is laid out like a delicious banquet.
Tonight, especially, we thank God for the ways in which he has enabled Fr John Saward to be a co-worker of the Truth; to draw so many by the light of his life of service as a priest and theologian, as an academic and a lecturer, but also as a husband, a father, and most of all, a Christian man, to Christ, the Light of the World. May “he who began a good work in you… bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ” (cf Phil 1:6).
The Byzantine church calls today’s saint the Protokletos, the first-called. Because St Andrew was the first apostle to respond to Christ’s call to follow him. This is not as apparent in the Gospel we’ve just heard but in St John’s Gospel, we learn that Andrew was a disciple of John the Baptist, and that he was drawn to Jesus when St John pointed to the Lord and said: “Behold, the Lamb of God”. Together with an unnamed disciple, they went to Jesus and stayed with him (cf Jn 1:35-40).
Today, we find ourselves in the place of that unnamed disciple. We hear those words, “Behold the Lamb of God”, and we are invited to go with St Andrew to Christ. But here in the Eucharist, Jesus comes under our roof; it is the Lord who condescends to come to us, to stays and remain with us. Through this sacrament, God dwells in us so that we can abide in him. So, although St Andrew is the first to be called, and the first to respond, each day we too are called; we’re also being invited to respond to God’s grace and do as St Andrew did: to follow Christ and stay close to him. And it is this on-going response, a daily ‘Yes’ to Christ that matters most. For what is remarkable about St Andrew is not so much that he was the first to go to Christ, although this requires great courage and faith. But rather, it is the fact that Andrew remained close to Jesus for the rest of his days, and continued to live with such courage and faith that he willingly suffered the same kind of death as the Lord – crucifixion. In a 6th-century text, The Passion of St Andrew, the apostle says: “Hail, O Cross, inaugurated by the Body of Christ… I come to you, therefore, confident and joyful, so that you too may receive me exultant as a disciple of the One who was hung upon you”.
Those words “confident and joyful” bring us back to today’s Gospel. St Matthew is not so much concerned about who was the first to go to Christ, but he concentrates on what being with Christ does. What does following Christ entail? “Follow me and I will make you fishers of men” (Mt 4:19). So, it seems that going to Christ and remaining close to him, being friends of Christ, makes us fishers of men, that is to say, evangelizers; people who draw others to Christ. And St Andrew does so with confidence and joy.
This is something Pope Francis spells out at length in his new Apostolic Exhortation, Evangelii Gaudium. A Christian is someone who has encountered the person of Jesus Christ; someone who has, therefore, experienced the personal love and mercy of God – this is what it means for us to recognize, with St Andrew, that Jesus is the ‘Lamb of God’. The Christian disciple thus has his life transformed by love and mercy, and his heart is filled with joy, a joy which cannot be contained but must be preached to others as life-changing, transforming good news. So, Pope Francis asks us: “[I]f we have received the love which restores meaning to our lives, how can we fail to share that love with others?” (§8).
But to become a fisher of men means that one has to patiently, gently attract people to Christ. We fish, not with dynamite, but with light in the dark waters. As Pope Francis (citing Pope Benedict) says: “Instead of seeming to impose new obligations, [Christians] should appear as people who wish to share their joy, who point to a horizon of beauty and who invite others to a delicious banquet. It is not by proselytizing that the Church grows, but “by attraction” (§15).
So, today, we have been called with St Andrew to go to Christ. We are being invited to taste the goodness of God here in this sacred banquet, to witness the beauty and wisdom of Christ in the Scriptures, and so to be filled with the confidence and joy of an apostle. For each and every one of us has been called, like Andrew, to follow Christ, to remain close to him, and so, to draw others – the people of Scotland – into the joy of friendship with God.
Pentecost is often called the birthday of the Church, and so, we tend to think of it as commemorating something new, as marking a beginning, a birth. But in fact, if we consider what the Jewish feast of Pentecost, also called the feast of the First Fruits, was about, we can look at it differently. Pentecost was the the completion of a seven-week long celebration begun just after the Passover, and it marked the harvest season, when the first fruits of a new harvest were offered to God in thanksgiving. As such, Pentecost was a day of expectation and a culmination; it marks the kind of ending that harvesting implies rather than the beginning that is implied in sowing.
Hence the great signs of Pentecost when the Spirit descends on the Church are also evocative of harvesting: wind, as from a winnowing fan to separate the wheat from the chaff (cf Mt 3:12), and fire, as in traditional harvesting methods to bring fertility and new life to the harvested land. So, at Pentecost, God the Holy Spirit comes as the harvester and he comes to “renew the face of the earth” (Ps 103:30).
But this Pentecostal harvesting is the culmination of what began fifty days earlier on Easter Sunday. For the risen Christ is, as St Paul says, the “first fruits” of a new creation (cf 1 Cor 15:20). And it is he, as first fruits, who was offered to the Father, being taken up into heaven at his Ascension. And now, on the fiftieth day, the climax of the Paschal celebrations, the Spirit comes to harvest and offer up to the Father those first fruits of Christ’s new creation, namely, Christ’s holy Church who stand for a humanity renewed and transformed by the power of Christ’s resurrection. Thus, the Spirit comes to harvest you and me, we who are baptized into Christ. And, so, we are being offered with Christ as first fruits to the Father; we’re being raised up by the Spirit to new and everlasting life with God. As St Paul put it: “If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ Jesus from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also” (Rom 8:11).
However, if the day of Pentecost was the great moment of God’s harvesting, then this is a moment which continues to this day. For the Church, who is animated by the Holy Spirit, lives ever in the Pentecostal moment, called in every age to renew and transform the whole world through the preaching and living out of the Gospel. Time and again, Christians have failed in this calling, but the Spirit comes as wind and fire to separate wheat from chaff, to burn out impurities with God’s fiery love, and to renew the face of the Church. Thus, the Church, and each of us individually, must call out each day: “Lord, send forth your Spirit, and renew us”.
And the Spirit who comes, and who renews us by bringing to our remembrance all that Jesus has taught us (cf Jn 14:26b), will also send us out as labourers into God’s harvest. This missionary imperative was put into action on Pentecost day. The tongues of flame loosened the tongues of the disciples so that they could preach the Gospel to all nations. It is in this sense that we can speak of the birthday of the Church. Because the Church was born for mission. She exists to “bring to remembrance” before all peoples what Jesus said and did. You and I, as members of the Church, are here for others, for the good of the world; we exist as a Church to be sent out to serve our brothers and sisters by bringing them the Gospel. As Pope Paul VI said: “[The Church] exists in order to evangelize, that is to say, in order to preach and teach, to be the channel of the gift of grace, to reconcile sinners with God, and to perpetuate Christ’s sacrifice in the Mass, which is the memorial of His death and glorious resurrection”. Our chapel, which looks out onto the world, and with the Altar of Christ’s sacrifice and the tabernacle of God’s dwelling with us so visible to all passers-by, is a constant reminder of this: that we, the Church, exist to evangelize. We’re here in order to go out into God’s harvest, into the world, as labourers, collaborating with the Holy Spirit to “renew the face of the earth”.
But what does this renewal, this collaboration with God, mean concretely? Let us look again to the Biblical origins of Pentecost.
In 1970, Pope Paul VI did an unprecedented thing. He declared not one but two women saints to be Doctors of the universal Church, and we celebrate the feast of one of those women today: the lay Dominican saint and mystic, Catherine of Siena, who is also patroness of Europe.
St Catherine lived in the turbulent 14th-century when there was much warfare among the Christian states of Europe, and under the influence of the powerful French monarchy, the pope no longer lived in Rome but in Avignon. This came to a climax in 1377 when French and Italian factions competed for the papacy and cardinals under their influence ended up electing two popes, thus bringing about the Great Western Schism that lasted until 1417. But this schism could only have happened because the Church was in serious need of reform: the clergy was corrupt, beset by scandals, and the laity were morally and doctrinally lax.
Hence, through deep prayer, penitential austerity and mystical experiences, Catherine was called by God in 1370 to care for the spiritual sickness that was then afflicting the Body of Christ. She was to be a doctor to the Church, called to heal the Church’s disunity and corruption which, in her words, disfigured the beautiful face of Christ’s Bride with leprosy. The disunity of the Church and the sins of her members – lay and clerical alike – were a great wound to Christ’s Body, and St Catherine bore this wound in her own body. For in 1375 she received the stigmata – the wounds of Christ – and she bore these invisibly until her death in 1380, when she would die at the same age as Christ, thirty-three.
For the last decade of her life, Catherine wore herself out travelling throughout Italy and France speaking and pleading with influential people, writing almost 400 letters to urge Christians to seek peace and unity, and imploring the pope to reform the clergy and to return to Rome – the symbol of the Church’s unity – which Gregory XI did in 1377. But his death shortly afterwards led to the schism, which weighed heavily on St Catherine.
So, she’d laboured to heal the Church’s disunity but she seems to have failed at the end of her short life. Yet, she is a Doctor of the Church because in her saintly life she taught us a most important lesson, and one which is ever relevant, especially today.
St Catherine knew that the reform of the Church was not primarily about politics and structures and bureaucracies. Rather, the Church is animated by the Holy Spirit, and so, she has to be healed spiritually, made whole by God’s love first. Hence, St Catherine offered her whole life of austerity, penance, fasting and prayer, as well as her ministries out in the world, for the love of God’s Church. So, Jesus promised her that “With these prayers, sweat and tears, I shall wash the face of my spouse, the holy Church”.
For Catherine knew, too, that reform was not ‘out there’ or the problem of the Roman Curia, or the warring cardinals. There can be much hand-wringing about the need for institutional reform, but St Catherine knew, rather, that the problems were also very much hers. As she put it “I have slept in the bed of negligence. This is why so many evils and ruins have befallen your Church”.
Thus, Doctor saint Catherine’s remedy for the sins of the Church was to look to her own sins, and to repent and change her ways. Because she knew that the only soul she could change and cause to co-operate with God’s grace, to conform to Christ’s will, was her own. So, reform of Christ’s Church comes through each of us as members of the Body of Christ striving to be faithful to Christ and our Christian vocation; each of us allowing Christ the divine Doctor to heal us so that we can play our proper part within his holy Body. Hence, through the “prayers, sweat and tears” of the saints, Christ himself will purify and reform his Bride; it is his Church.
With this fundamental knowledge and faith in Christ, and love for Christ’s Mystical Body, St Catherine became a saint, and so can we today. May she pray for us, for God’s Holy Church, especially in Europe, and for our lay Dominicans for whom she is patroness.
“A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another; even as I have loved you, that you also love one another” (Jn 13:34). The last time we would have heard these words in the Liturgy would be on Maundy Thursday in the Mass of the Lord’s Supper, just before the Gospel account of Jesus washing the feet of his disciples. These words, then, re-enforce what was heard in the Gospel of Maundy Thursday: “If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet” (Jn 13:14). Hence, it is rightly understood that Christ’s commandment that we love one another is borne out in serving one another, in works of social justice.
Therefore, our parish embarked on a charitable project this Lent that sought to serve the needy and poor – not so much to wash their feet as to help provide feet, in the form of prosthetic limbs. We have raised about £3500 for Olivia Giles’ ‘500 Miles’ project through a variety of initiatives. And as Olivia suggested on Friday night when we presented a cheque to her, it is through such acts of generosity and love in a Christian community that we demonstrate that we are disciples of Jesus Christ. For the Lord says: “all men will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another” (Jn 13:35).
But this understanding of love as social justice is not new. It is already found in the Old Testament, and it is rooted in the Jewish prophets. For example, Micah 6:8 says: “What does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” What is different is that the New Testament adds a mystical dimension to this because in serving the marginalized and oppressed it is our poor, naked, hungry God, Jesus Christ himself, whom we serve and love.
However, vital though it is, there is more to Christian love than just social justice. Hence, our Liturgy re-visits these words of Christ, his new commandment to us, in the light of the resurrection. What has changed? Christ has risen from the dead, and so, destroyed death. He has put an end to the hold that sin, evil, and death had over Mankind. He has made “all things new” (Apoc 21:5a), re-creating the heavens and the earth. Because of Christ’s resurrection, “death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain any more, for the former things have passed away” (Apoc 21:4). The disciples of Jesus Christ, who touched and saw and heard the risen Lord, knew all this to be true. Through faith, we also experience the risen Lord and know his Word to be true.
With an Easter faith, then, how is Christian love expressed? What more needs to be done in addition to serving one another and doing justice? Love is expressed through bringing hope to others: hope in the resurrection; hope that comes from faith in the new creation brought about by the risen Jesus; hope in God’s mercies that are ever new.
Therefore, the first reading from the Acts of the Apostles shows us how we’re called to love one another as disciples of Jesus Christ risen from the dead. Love impels the first disciples to travel far and wide, risking the perils of the journey, to preach the Gospel. They could have been content to just keep the faith to themselves, or considered it too risky and imprudent to stand up against the Jewish authorities and the mighty Roman empire. And, as we’ve seen in previous weeks, after the Crucifixion, they were full of fear and confusion. But once the Holy Spirit had descended on them there was no stopping them.
The real wonder of today’s Gospel isn’t the staggering catch of fish, but the closeness of God to humanity. Typically, God is holy, indeed thrice-holy, and this meant being distant from the profane world. Hence, the Hebrew word for holy, qadosh, comes from the root qodesh, meaning to ‘cut off’ or ‘separate’. And God is separate from his creatures so that he remains clean and undefiled by sinners. This typically Jewish notion seemed odd to me at first, because I’m so used to the idea of God’s holiness transforming my sinfulness, but in fact, it’s common sense. No one uses a greasy cloth to polish glass, or applies a dirty brush to a clean shirt; the unclean soils the clean. And so, the traditional notion of God and holiness seems to be that God had to be separate and cut off from his creatures in order to be clean, pure and holy.
But this is not the God that is revealed to us in Jesus Christ. The beauty of the Incarnation, of our Christian faith, is that we believe that God has become Man, has entered time and space, and walked, eaten and worked with his creatures, with sinful humanity. In the previous chapter of St Luke’s Gospel, an unclean demon acknowledged that Jesus is “the Holy One of God” (Lk 4:34), and he said “Have you come to destroy us?”, and Jesus commanded the unclean spirit to depart. This signals that, contrary to what had been thought, the unclean does not contaminate the clean. Rather, the Holy One drives away sin, evil, the unclean; God’s grace heals, redeems, transforms and purifies.
Thus, in today’s Gospel, the Holy One of God comes to sinners to be their salvation; this is the first time in St Luke’s Gospel that this idea is expressed. So, God is found, not in the Temple, or a designated place, but out and about by the lakeside, in the workplace of these fishermen, where we are. For Jesus shows that our holy God does not separate himself from us, but comes in search of us to make us holy by uniting us with himself and his mission.
God does this because God is love. For only love will impel us out of ourselves and all our self-preoccupied concerns for our own cleanliness, safety, and comfort, driving us out into the world to take risks for those we love. Hence, Christ’s action reveals that God is love, and what he does overturns the traditional notions of God as holy, and who thus stands aloof from his creatures. Rather, God’s holiness is seen in the depths of his love. God thus wills to take on the messiness of humanity, to become a part of his creation and get ‘dirty’, so to speak, and to even embrace a sacrificial death on the Cross.
Today’s readings, which offer a vision of salvation for all the nations, of people from east and west coming into God’s kingdom, is so fitting for today. For we celebrate the feast of the great Jesuit missionary, Francis Xavier who is believed to have been the most effective missionary since the apostles, having preached the Gospel in Goa (India), Malacca (Malaysia), Indonesia, and Japan. His goal was to preach in China too, but after ten very fruitful years in the Far East he died from a fever on this day in 1552, and his relics remain in Goa. What motivated this great evangelizer?
In our first reading, Isaiah is confident that God’s Wisdom and teaching is a blessing. And it is this confidence that St Francis shares. As Isaiah put it: “Let us go up to the mountain of the Lord… that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths”. So, the people go to the Lord in order to be taught, to learn from God’s Wisdom, and then, they will to act upon this teaching, to live according to the Lord’s ways. And the vision of Isaiah goes on to suggest that the Lord’s way is a way of peace, of gentle reconciliation, and life; God builds up and cultivates rather than destroys. So, God’s way is a blessing to the whole world, to all of humanity. With firm faith in this truth, St Francis was thus motivated to set out from Spain to preach the Gospel in the Far East, to bring a blessing to those who had never heard the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Because he rightly believed that every human person, having a natural desire for Truth and the Good would find in Christ the fulfillment of all their desires. But most of all he also knew that the grace of Christ, coming principally through baptism was necessary for eternal salvation.
So, his work of evangelization was a work of mercy, hoping to bring healing from sin, to bring reconciliation between God and Man, and so, to end the warfare begun by Adam’s original sin. It was also a work of justice, for all people deserve to know the Truth. Above all, St Francis’ missionary work was a labour of love. As he said: “Many, many people hereabouts are not becoming Christians for one reason only: there is nobody to make them Christians. Again and again I have thought of going round the universities of Europe, especially Paris, and everywhere crying out like a madman, riveting the attention of those with more learning than charity: “What a tragedy: how many souls are being shut out of heaven and falling into hell, thanks to you!” The Second Vatican Council made a similar point when it said: “Often men, deceived by the Evil One, have become vain in their reasonings and have exchanged the truth of God for a lie, serving the creature rather than the Creator… Wherefore to promote the glory of God and procure the salvation of all of these, and mindful of the command of the Lord, “Preach the Gospel to every creature”, the Church fosters the missions with care and attention” (Lumen Gentium, 16).
Hence, in this Year of Faith in which the Holy Father has also urged us to a new Evangelization, we can learn from St Francis. His example reminds us that we become effective evangelizers only if we have first been evangelized – converted to Christ, changed by his mercy and forgiveness to become peacemakers. We become witnesses to the Gospel if we have really experienced the Gospel as a blessing in our lives. As Pope Benedict XVI has said: “What the world is in particular need of today is the credible witness of people enlightened in mind and heart by the word of the Lord, and capable of opening the hearts and minds of many to the desire for God and for true life, life without end” (Porta Fidei, 15).
Like St Francis Xavier, will we have the courage and generosity, the charity and zeal to say: “Lord, I am here! What do you want me to do? Send me anywhere you like – even to India”. Or, perhaps in our case today, even to Inverness… or anywhere in Europe?
We say that someone is “single-minded” if that person is determined, purposeful, and has a clear aim that he or she is moving towards. This is why St Paul exhorts the Philippians to be “of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind”. Because only if we, as a Church, are single-minded will be serve our purpose, and move towards our common goal as one body.
The goal of the Church, our common aim, is salvation, that is, union with God. Our same love, then, is for Christ and his teachings, because he alone is the Way, the Truth and the Life, who unites us to God. And the purpose of the Church is to manifest this union with God in Christ, to make known by example and preaching our “participation in the Spirit”, or, more accurately translated, our communion in the Spirit. This is what we mean by evangelization, and our salvation in Christ is for everyone. Hence, Vatican II said: “[Christ] sent His life-giving Spirit upon His disciples and through Him has established His Body which is the Church as the universal sacrament of salvation” (Lumen Gentium,48) .
Which is why, if we’re to serve our purpose as a Church, if we’re to be effective evangelizers, if we’re to be good disciples of Christ who are alive in the Holy Spirit, then we must first be converted to Christ and become single-minded. We’re called to think with the mind of the whole Christ, that is, the Head always in union with his Body, the Church, so that we truly participate and have communion in the life of Christ. Thus, our whole way of thinking and behaving is transformed. And it will inevitably be different from the world’s; it will involve leaving behind former ways of thinking and acting. If we, as a Church, are good at this, we will transform the world and change whole cultures.
But often, it seems like some Catholics expect things to work the other way round: Christ and the teachings of his Church must change to stay in step with the world’s teachings. Or we lack conviction and conversion to the Truth. And so, we aren’t single-minded and become a Church that is confused and stagnant, too tired by internal squabbling to attract, inspire and evangelize. Who would want to invest time, energy, and indeed give their lives to such a Church?