Pope Francis is restoring to us a sense of Church in the midst of the world, a Church for the sake of the world. This is what I mean. Just this morning, when speaking at the General Audience, Pope Francis said we are privileged to carry out a mission of being a leaven of hope in a world wounded by sin and evil. It is hard enough to have hope ourselves, but he asks us to do more, to be hope for others who are suffering from evil and despair.
The Pope said we are called to be "so many points of light," illuminating "all of reality" and "showing the way to a better future" for everyone. How can I be a light that shows a way to others?
First of all, I'd need to be able to walk the way first, so I'd know where I was leading others or at least to what I was pointing.
Second, I'd want to live in a way that is distinct from the darkness around me, so I would "show up" in the midst of the crowd as someone different, someone transparent, someone filled with joy and thus attractive.
How can I walk this path and truly shine brightly before others who are looking for the light? By knowing where I'm going... "Our destination is the Kingdom of God which Christ inaugurated on earth and which will attain its fullness in the joy of heaven." The directions to the Kingdom of God are found in the reading of the Gospel, in the prayerful celebration of the Sacraments and in service to the poor. Day by day, prayer by prayer, resolution by resolution, we strengthen our resolve to live the Kingdom, to BE the Kingdom, as light in the darkness.
This is what makes the Church an essential part of God's loving plan for the whole human family. We are called FOR THE OTHERS. We are loved by God FOR THE OTHERS. We are sanctified FOR THE WORLD which depends on us and on our response to grace.
"May the Church always be a place where everyone can encounter God's mercy and feel welcomed, loved, forgiven, and encouraged to live the good life of the Gospel.
We are heading into the last
six months of the Year of Faith initiated by Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI and
re-invigorated by Pope Francis. Indeed, the very emergence of Pope Francis onto
the internal ecclesial scene has energized people into renewing or re-starting
their journey of discipleship. It almost feels like Pope Francis is trying to
push us into a faith-response that we’ve forgotten—one that is active,
courageous, joyful, and loving. In short, he is calling us to a life of mission.
To be a Catholic is to be a missionary in today’s world, to be different, to be
a witness to Jesus.
What makes it so hard to be
different? When you hear that invitation what do you picture? One person I know
talks about being different in these terms: “It’s like having a whole school of
fish swimming right at you, while you’re trying to go the opposite direction.”
What is your image? What types of feelings or fears or reactions arise in you
at the call to stand out as s Christian in your
world? What situations would begin to shift? What would be the cost? What would
be an unexpected gift? It certainly is not easy.
I work with someone in Macedonia whose
profile on Skype includes this motto: “The pursuit of excellence is less
profitable than the pursuit of bigness, but it can be more satisfying.” There
is a deep satisfaction, not when we pursue the excellence of the Christian
life, but when we have been seized by the beauty of the life of Christ and all
that he offers us. I was deeply shaken by a recent homily in which the priest asked,
“If love can transform a couple at their marriage, if winning the lottery can
cause a veritable explosion of happiness, why is it that the possibility of
living the Christian life leaves us so unaffected?” Perhaps the first step in
being different is being amazed at the gift of faith. The second step is being
willing to live the “healthy spiritual craziness” of St. Paul who caused discomfort through his
beliefs, his teachings, his attitudes.
Pope Francis has said
repeatedly that our faith must make us uncomfortable, uncomfortable with where
we are, with what we have made of ourselves, so that we can be opened more
fully to the power of the Holy Spirit who knows the overwhelming possibility of
living what I call the Christ-ed life.
The excitement in the news
may have died down around the new Pope. That’s okay. That’s not really what
it’s all about. Pope Francis is concentrating on helping us wake up to what it is all about: “May the Holy Spirit also give us the grace to feel
uncomfortable about certain aspects of the Church which are too relaxed; the
grace to go forward to the existential outskirts. The Church is in great need
of this! Not only in far away lands, in young Churches, to peoples who do not
yet know Jesus Christ. But here in the city, right in the city, we need Jesus
Christ’s message. We thus ask the Holy Spirit for this grace of apostolic
zeal: Christians with apostolic zeal. And if we make others uncomfortable,
blessed be the Lord. Let’s go, and like the Lord says to Paul: ‘take
courage!’” (May 17, 2013 www.vatican.va)
A reflection from Pope Francis’ homily on Divine
Mercy Sunday, April 7, 2013
3. I would like to emphasize one
other thing: God’s patience has to call forth in us the courage to return to
him, however many mistakes and sins there may be in our life. Jesus tells
Thomas to put his hand in the wounds of his hands and his feet, and in his
side. We too can enter into the wounds of Jesus, we can actually touch him.
This happens every time that we receive the sacraments with faith. Saint
Bernard, in a fine homily, says: "Through the wounds of Jesus I can suck
honey from the rock and oil from the flinty rock (cf. Deut 32:13), I can taste
and see the goodness of the Lord" (On the Song of Songs, 61:4). It is
there, in the wounds of Jesus, that we are truly secure; there we encounter the
boundless love of his heart. Thomas understood this. Saint Bernard goes on to
ask: But what can I count on? My own merits? No, "My merit is God’s mercy.
I am by no means lacking merits as long as he is rich in mercy. If the mercies
of the Lord are manifold, I too will abound in merits" (ibid., 5). This is
important: the courage to trust in Jesus’ mercy, to trust in his patience, to
seek refuge always in the wounds of his love. Saint Bernard even states:
"So what if my conscience gnaws at me for my many sins? ‘Where sin has
abounded, there grace has abounded all the more’ (Rom 5:20)" (ibid.).
Maybe someone among us here is thinking: my sin is so great, I am as far from
God as the younger son in the parable, my unbelief is like that of Thomas; I
don’t have the courage to go back, to believe that God can welcome me and that
he is waiting for me, of all people. But God is indeed waiting for you; he asks
of you only the courage to go to him. How many times in my pastoral ministry have
I heard it said: "Father, I have many sins"; and I have always
pleaded: "Don’t be afraid, go to him, he is waiting for you, he will take
care of everything". We hear many offers from the world around us; but let
us take up God’s offer instead: his is a caress of love. For God, we are not
numbers, we are important, indeed we are the most important thing to him; even
if we are sinners, we are what is closest to his heart. . . . In my own life, I have so often
seen God’s merciful countenance, his patience; I have also seen so many people
find the courage to enter the wounds of Jesus by saying to him: Lord, I am
here, accept my poverty, hide my sin in your wounds, wash it away with your
blood. And I have always seen that God did just this – he accepted them, consoled
them, cleansed them, loved them.
1. Am I willing to take up God’s offer of forgiveness? Or do
I tend to take it lightly because it is so easily available? It’s only human to
value things that are hard to get, and to take for granted what comes to us
easily. If only the Pope could hear confessions, he would be deluged by people
wanting to confess their sins. But how many priests sit for long hours in empty
confessionals? Jesus made this sacrament so easy for us to receive. If you
haven’t gone to confession in a while, don’t put it off any longer. Decide on a
date and go!
2. In his homily Pope Francis says that we can actually
touch Jesus through faith. Every time we turn to Jesus with faith, power goes
out from him. Even though we have already received it, the spiritual power that
comes from Jesus can always grow in us more and more. I can touch Jesus with
faith by turning to him in the ordinary events of the day and asking for his
help in whatever I am doing.
Sources for Further Reflection
The Catechism of the
Catholic Church on the sacrament of Penance and Reconciliation: no. 1422
and following.
(If you do not have a Catechism
of the Catholic Church, type these references into Google Search and you
can find them online.)
In this critical year of faith we
should pay more attention to St.
Joseph, because through him God will provide a way to
overcome the famine of faith. The story of Joseph in the book of Genesis can
remind us of similarities to St.
Joseph: their dreams, their chastity, their wise
stewardship. The Joseph of Genesis wisely managed the resources of Egypt,
so that when famine struck the country, it was well provided for: “All the world
came to Joseph to obtain rations of grain, for famine had gripped the whole
world” (Gen 41:57).
In re-reading this story recently, I
was reminded of another type of famine, not of bread but of the word of God: “Yes,
days are coming, says the Lord God, when I will send famine upon the land: not
a famine of bread, or thirst for water, but for hearing the Lord of the Lord”
(Amos 8:11).
Certainly we’re living in a time
when faith seems to be losing the battle against a tide of secularism, atheism,
and unbelief. While many people retain a vibrant faith, the decline in Mass
attendance, marriage rates, and participation in church life is evident. We’re
in a famine of faith. Pope Benedict XVI called us to a Year of Faith in order
to meet that challenge and forge ahead with the New Evangelization. So what
role does St. Joseph
play in this?
Genesis recounts that “Pharaoh
directed all the Egyptians to go to Joseph and do whatever he told them” (Gen
41:55). That phrase evokes Cana, when Mary
referred the stewards to Jesus and said, “Do whatever he tells you” (Jn 2:5).
Joseph provided the people with grain, and Jesus turned water into wine: bread
and wine, the elements of the Eucharist. Reading the story of Joseph in Genesis
together with Cana can help us understand why St. Joseph is patron of the universal Church.
The saint of divine providence, the one we invoke for material help in terms of
jobs, resources, selling a house, etc., is even more eager to provide us with
the blessings of faith.
In the book of Revelation, the
third horseman represents famine: “I looked, and there was a black horse, and
its rider held a scale in his hand. I heard what seemed to be a voice in the
midst of the four living creatures. It said, ‘A ration of wheat costs a day’s
pay, and three rations of barley cost a day’s pay. But do not damage the olive
oil or the wine” (Rev 6:5-6). While this book is difficult to interpret, these
verses make me think of the famine of faith. Could it be that the reference to
sparing the oil and the wine is a veiled reference to the fact that even in
times when faith dies down, the Church will keep on providing the sacraments?
The flock may grow smaller, and the demand for sacraments may be less, but the Church
will always be there to offer the sacraments and nourish our faith. St. Joseph, the Church’s
patron, has a role in making sure they are provided.
So it is no accident that Pope
Francis is officially beginning his mandate on the feast of St. Joseph, in the Year of Faith. This Pope
is remarkable for being a humble, hidden man, much like Joseph. Because of this
saint’s hiddenness, we may easily forget him. But let’s ask his intercession
even more now, so that in this Year of Faith the Church will truly begin to
witness to the Gospel in a more effective way. St. Joseph, pray for us!
