Mission Sunday

A hākari (feast) at Matatā, in the mid-19th century and is courtesy of the Alexander Turnball Library; Reference: PUBL-0014-36.

Today, in our Church, is known as World Mission Sunday.

Where were you in December 1975?

What were you doing?

That was fifty years ago so remembering may take some time!

On December 8th of 1975 the then Pope, Paul VI issued a document with Latin title “Evangelii Nuntiandi” The English title reads, ‘Evangelization in the Modern World.’

It is available on the Vatican website, www.vatican.va

In my opinion, the document has been one of the most radical documents to ever come from the Vatican.

Again, in my opinion, it is one of the least read and least attended to.

No. 21 of the document reminds us that the primary importance in evangelization is not proclamation but rather witness.

We do not primarily talk about the person of Jesus, rather we live the person of Jesus.
Evangelization, I suggest is not about proclamation but, rather imitation.
No 21 reads:

“Above all the Gospel must be proclaimed by witness. Take a Christian or a handful of Christians who, in the midst of their own community, show their capacity for understanding and acceptance, their sharing of life and destiny with other people, their solidarity with the efforts of all for whatever is noble and good. Let us suppose that, in addition, they radiate in an altogether simple and unaffected way their faith in values that go beyond current values, and their hope in something that is not seen and that one would not dare to imagine.

“Through this wordless witness these Christians stir up irresistible questions in the hearts of those who see how they live: Why are they like this? Why do they live in this way? What or who is it that inspires them? Why are they in our midst? Such a witness is already a silent proclamation of the Good News and a very powerful and effective one. Here we have an initial act of evangelization. The above questions will perhaps be the first many non-Christians ask whether they are people to whom Christ has never been proclaimed, or baptized people who do not practice, or people who live as nominal Christians but according to principles that are in no way Christian, or people who are seeking, and not without suffering, something or someone whom they sense but cannot name. Other questions will arise, deeper and more demanding ones, questions evoked by this witness which involves presence, sharing, solidarity, and which is an essential element, and generally the first one, in evangelization.”

I would like to suggest that giving witness to Christ today requires precisely that we build communities that are wide enough to hold our differences.

What we need is not a new technique, rather a new sanctity; not a cooler dress, rather a more inclusive embrace; not some updating of the gospel to make it more acceptable to the world, rather a more courageous radiating of its wide compassion; not some new secret that catches peoples’ curiosity, rather a way of following Christ that can hold more of the tensions of our world in proper balance so that everyone, irrespective of temperament and ideology, will find themselves better understood and embraced by what we hold most dear.

28th Sunday of Ordinary Time

Thanks to the book Schindler’s Ark, written by the Australian author, Thomas Keneally, and the subsequent film, Schindler’s List, directed by Stephen Spielberg, the name Oskar Schindler became known to millions of people around the world.

Schindler was a German industrialist. During World War II he saved over a thousand Polish Jews from the concentration camps. As the war ended the Germans pulled out of Poland, and the people awaited the arrival of the Russians.

Just before the Russians arrived, Schindler too decided to flee westwards.

When his Jewish workers, now free, heard he was leaving they got together to see how they could express their gratitude to him. All that was to hand to make a gift was base metal.

Then one of them suggested something better.

He opened his mouth to show his gold bridgework and said for his fellow workers to take the bridgework.

At first, they refused the man’s offer but he insisted.

So, he had his bridgework extracted by a prisoner who had once been a dentist in Cracow.

A jeweller among them melted the gold down and fashioned a ring out of it.

On the inner circle of the ring, they inscribed these words from central text of Rabbinic Judaism, the Talmud: “The one who saves a single life, saves the entire world.”

It was a deeply moving gesture of gratitude. That is one of the marvellous things about gratitude – it makes us want to give something back.

There is a French proverb,
“La reconnaissance est la memoire du coeur” – ‘Gratitude is the memory of the heart’.

But then someone might say that it was the least they could do since they owed their lives to Schindler.

The ten lepers in the Gospel also owed their lives to Jesus; yet only one of them came back to thank him!

27 Sunday of Ordinary Time

Baal Shem Tov (1698 – 1760) was a legendry Hassidic spiritual leader.

One day a person came to him and said, “I think I’m losing my faith.”

“What makes you think that?” asked Baal Shem Tov.

“When I was young, God seemed very near to me. Now God seems distant.

“Such a distance is natural,” Baal Shem Tov replied.

“When children are young, we teach them to walk by standing beside them and holding their hand. As they grow, however, we gradually distance ourselves so they can walk to us. God has moved away from you, so that you might learn how to walk on your own towards God.”

Nikos Kazantzakis, the great Greek writer, tells a story of an elderly monk he once met on Mount Athos.

Kazantzakis, still young and full of curiosity, was questioning this monk and asked him: “Do you still wrestle with the devil?”

“No,” replied the old monk, “I used to, when I was younger, but now I’ve grown old and tired, and the devil has grown old and tired with me.”

“So,” Kazantzakis said, “your life is easy then? No more big struggles.”

“Oh, no!” replied the old man, “now it’s worse. Now I wrestle with God!”

“You wrestle with God,” replied Kazantzakis, rather surprised, “and you hope to win?” “No,” said the old monk, “I wrestle with God, and I hope to lose!”

26th Sunday of Ordinary Time

A wandering monk came to a village.

He was about to settle down under a tree for the night when a villager came running to him and said, ‘Give me the precious stone.’

‘What stone are you talking about?’ asked the monk.

‘Last night I had a dream’, said the villager, ‘that if I went to the outskirts of the village at dusk, I would find a monk who would give me a precious stone that would make me rich forever.’

The monk rummaged in his sack, found a stone and took it out. ‘This is probably the stone you are talking about,’ he said, as he handed it to the villager. ‘I found it in the forest a few days ago. You are welcome to it.’

The villager took the stone and gazed at it in wonder. It was a beautifully red ruby, the largest he had ever seen.

He took it home with him.

All night he tossed about in his bed, unable to sleep.

Early next day he went back to the outskirts of the village and found the monk.

He said to him, ‘During the night I was unable to sleep, and I have done a lot of thinking. You can have the precious stone back.

Instead, give me the kind of wealth that makes it possible for you to give this ruby away so easily.’

The richer a person’s inner life is, the simpler becomes their outer life – the less they need or want.