We are a missionary Congregation…
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
Our lengthy reflection on the meaning of being a missionary congregation has shown the importance of the missionary character of our baptismal Mazenodian vocation. All of us are missionary disciples whose outlook and spirituality is missionary: like, Eugene, sharing with others our own experience of life and meaning.
Pope John Paul in his encyclical Redemptoris Missio (in whose composition our own former Oblate Superior General, Fr Marcello Zago, had a hand) concludes our reflection on how sharing our spirituality is mission:
Our times are both momentous and fascinating. While on the one hand people seem to be pursuing material prosperity and to be sinking ever deeper into consumerism and materialism, on the other hand we are witnessing a desperate search for meaning, the need for an inner life, and a desire to learn new forms and methods of meditation and prayer. Not only in cultures with strong religious elements, but also in secularized societies, the spiritual dimension of life is being sought after as an antidote to dehumanization. This phenomenon — the so-called “religious revival”– is not without ambiguity, but it also represents an opportunity. The Church has an immense spiritual patrimony to offer humankind, a heritage in Christ, who called himself “the way, and the truth, and the life” (Jn 14:6): it is the Christian path to meeting God, to prayer, to asceticism, and to the search for life’s meaning. (Redemptoris Missio n 38)
“Mission is the heartbeat of the Body of Christ” J. Crampsey SJ
Daring – daring is the word that has come to mind this morning.
When the time in my life came to sober up from both drugs and alcohol – it took unbelievable daring to face myself, my addictions, my poverty. Even though I had nothing left to lose and was completely without hope it took daring to look and listen and let go.
Equally daring was my return to the Church and my first experience of God’s love. I had long given up on hope in God and eventually too on going to Church for both had seemed to be so empty and a lie – for me. I had long before stopped believing that I was even quite human, I thought I was something of a lesser species. So afraid was I to speak with a priest about how much I wanted to go to Mass – not so much to receive the sacraments – just to be there – I felt like I was risking my very life to talk with him. In truth God was the one caring me on that for I was quite unable to do it on my own. Still – I dared and then I I heard God: “Eleanor, I love you. You are mine. I have called you by name.” At that moment when time had stopped I dared to let go of everything and to allow God to embrace me I had no idea what life would look like from that point on but I dared it all just to live in that love. And then I began to dare in sharing what I had been given. My steps were sometimes small and other times giant leaps. The Church was (and is) very much a part of that. Then jumping forward about twenty-five years or more I dared to ask about this St. Eugene de Mazenod that some of the Oblates were talking about. I heard the words that Eugene wrote to Henri Tempier and it felt as if Eugene was speaking them to me, inviting me to stand at the foot of my crucifix. A reminder of my “baptismal Mazenodian vocation”. Today I share with all those who would dare to stop and listen, and most specially those whose poverty is hidden, who might appear to have everything but who are longing for something they are unable to even put words around – who as Eugene expressed are looking ‘for happiness outside of God’.
Again I am filled with such immense gratitude and joy and am quite unable to do anything else except to share what I have been given, to seek out those in whom I recognize myself. I wonder what that will look like today?