When Eugene reflected on his conversion he spoke about having searched for happiness outside of God, and finding only unhappiness and frustration. When he looked at himself through the eyes of the Crucified Savior, he recognized his own poverty and emptiness, and received the Good News of Jesus that transformed him. From that moment he began to see others through the eyes of the Crucified Savior and understand their poverty, he dedicated himself to bring the Savior and His Gospel to these poor. It became his life-time focus.
Wherever we work, our mission is especially to those people whose condition cries out for salvation and for the hope which only Jesus Christ can fully bring.
These are the poor with their many faces; we give them our preference.
CC&RR, Constitution 5
We can speak of circles of poverty for Eugene. Firstly, the Church, Spouse of Christ and Body of Christ, in her poverty and persecution – battered by the Revolution and by politics and some of the current philosophical trends and world views.
Secondly, those who were not being exposed to the Gospel as a result of the structures of the local churches and their scarcity of ministers and means. Two hundred years of Oblate preaching of parish missions, of outreach from permanent mission centers, of lay cooperators, and many other ministries aimed to bring the Gospel in more effective ways to these poor. Linked with this, was the reality that the majority of the persons in the second circle who were spiritually thirsty were materially poor and needy. Bishop Eugene’s ministry in Marseille was a non-stop series of responses to the cry of the poor in his diocese.
Then there was the circle of those who had never heard the Gospel preached around the world, and who had not encountered the Savior. We are grateful for two hundred years of amazing missionary zeal in over 65 countries.
Today, who are the poor with their many faces that I encounter each day? How can I look at them through the eyes of my Crucified Savior?
“Look at the face of the other… discover that he has a soul, a history and a life, that he is a person and that God loves this person.” Pope Benedict XVI
This morning – a small aha moment. Looking at the face of the other; through my own eyes barely able to focus, my vision clouded with my own concerns and wounds, distracted and somehow lost, unable to see even my own self clearly. Unaware of my own poverty so lost was I. Unable to see the other in any way other than to strike out and use.
My first encounter, hearing the voice of my Beloved say my name, being claimed in an embrace born of infinite tenderness, mercy, light. A heart once barricaded in darkness, buried under mountains of heavy pain and raw loneliness; now set free to move into the light, beginning to see myself and basking in what I could only assume to be love – the beginnings of love, the beginnings of transformation.
My second encounter, with the cross, Jesus on the cross; looking through tears born of unsurety and fears, tears falling from my eyes like scales so that I could see in a different way; Jesus looking at me through eyes of tears. The beginning of a lifetime love affair and dance with the Cross. This encounter – a living layer of love that becomes a part of the first encounter. Becoming aware of the other, able to see the pain and and loneliness of the other. Small moments of encountering the other, unable to understand my dance with them, unable to curtail or slow it down. Seeing the other with new eyes and moving with that. Knowing that I can not ignore the other, I no longer want to, no longer want to hide from their pain, their poverty. But still the vision is incomplete, still seeing through a haze of self. Small uncertain steps, moving towards. Learning, discovering – all at once – in the blink of eye and taking a life time.
The third encounter which has never stopped, not a one-time event but rather the beginnings of way of being. Great daring and risk to look out and start to see – myself and the other – through the eyes of my crucified Saviour. Recognizing myself in the other and the other in myself. Being transformed and moving into doing. Like light moving in and around, finding the smallest of cracks to break through the darkness – ever deepening, ever lightening.
I remember as a small child thinking of my soul, the center of my being as being like a large mason jar filled with cotton balls, too many to count and they were all black like soot – to touch one would be to get dirty and be thrown away so I could never allow that lid to be lifted or I would lose myself entirely because of what I would do to the other who touched me. Today there is no lid to that mason jar and indeed the walls seem to dissolve if one is to even notice or touch them. It is not filled with darkened sooty cotton balls but rather with white and those tinged perhaps with a little greyness. Without the walls to keep me separate my cotton balls only grow bigger and whiter as they are touched by others – no longer having to hold myself in. Born out of love there is no separation – and this love, this way of being seem possible only when I look through the eyes of Jesus, crucified and risen. Indeed love is the only option once we begin to see in this way. It is no longer just “I” but we as our hearts open and touch the other, each other.
Looking at the face of the other and finding ourselves and God right there. There is no other place to go.