Maynooth,
Tuesday 27 September 2005

St Vincent de Paul (Zech 8:20-23; Lk 9:51-56)

A couple of weeks ago, in an article in The Guardian, Roy Hattersley asked himself why it is that, when a disaster like Hurricane Katrina strikes, the people who rush to help are overwhelmingly believers: “Notable by their absence”, he said, “are teams from rationalist societies, free thinkers clubs and atheists’ associations...” ( The Guardian 12 September 2005 ) He sees that commitment in groups as theologically different as the Salvation Army and the Little Sisters of the Poor. He concludes, “Men and women who, like me, cannot accept the miracles and mysteries do not go out with the Salvation Army at night.”

I mention that article in order to express my recognition and appreciation of the Christian commitment, expertise, wisdom, compassion, and practical concern represented by the Commissions and Agencies of the Episcopal Conference. You are part of that impressive response of believers to the needs of their fellow human beings and their societies. I would not attempt a complete list of the work you do and the great variety of people and issues to which it responds. All of your work in its different ways is built on the faith which gives rise to the impressive response to which Roy Hattersley refers.

He expresses puzzlement at the phenomenon he is describing: The only possible conclusion, he says, is that faith comes “with a packet of moral imperatives” and that these influence enough believers as he puts it, “to make them morally superior to atheists like me.”

The question he raises is an important one, but the answer to his puzzlement lies deeper than he suggests. It is not just a matter of “a packet of moral imperatives”. He shares the moral imperative to care for the poor and the victims of disaster with the Salvation Army and the Little Sisters. That’s why he admires them for responding to the imperatives with an intensity that he feels unable to match.

The fire that fuels a wholehearted, self-sacrificing response doesn’t originate from the political, economic, sociological policies that are discussed and formulated in public debate. The fire comes from the heart where our deepest convictions are found – from the religious and moral convictions which society keeps telling us are ‘private matters’.

Our fire should come from a vision of the human person, of the goal of human life, of the unity of the human family, founded on the knowledge that each of us is loved by God our Father, that Christ died for each of us, that the Spirit is renewing the face of the earth ( Ps 104:30 ).

When we celebrate the Eucharist we recognise that in his death and resurrection Jesus Christ is, as Vatican II put it, “the focal point of the desires of history and of civilisation… the joy of all hearts, the fulfilment of all aspirations” ( Vatican II, Gaudium et Spes, 45 ). Our faith in Jesus is in harmony with the most profound truth of each member of the human family. “Each of us”, as Pope Benedict said at his inauguration, “is the result of a thought of God. Each of us is willed, each of us is loved, each of us is necessary” ( 25 April 2005 ). In our Mass we will pray that, like St Vincent de Paul, we might “imitate the love we celebrate in these mysteries” ( Prayer over the Gifts ) If we genuinely do that, other people may hear an echo in their own hearts and may say, “We want to go with you” ( First Reading ).

In a diverse society we have to express our convictions in a language that can be understood by people of different religious and cultural backgrounds. We need the language of citizenship, of common humanity that speaks in terms of justice, human rights, community building, peacemaking and solidarity.

Behind that common language lie many different deep convictions – Christian, Muslim, Jewish, or perhaps not expressed in religious language at all. If we fail to recognise those deeper convictions, we will never understand the fire in people’s hearts, a fire that has to do with the deepest needs and longings of their own humanity. At the heart of every culture, Pope John Paul reminded us, lies the attitude that people take “to the greatest mystery, the mystery of God” ( Centesimus Annus , 24 ) .

Our reaction to those who do not share our vision of faith should not be to call down fire from heaven ( Gospel ). In some old texts, today’s Gospel passage concludes with Jesus saying: “You do not know what spirit you are made of. The Son of man came not to destroy souls but to save them.” All people, believers or nonbelievers, are the result of a thought of the Father whose will is that all of them should come to the knowledge of the truth ( I Tim 2:4 ). In their longings for justice, peace and solidarity we can recognise the fruit of the Spirit who blows where he wills, and the ‘desires of the spirit’ which, as Pope John Paul said, are signs of “a new time of advent” ( Dominum et Vivificantem , 56 ). The Gospel of Life can echo in the heart of believer and unbeliever alike because “it marvellously fulfils all the heart’s expectations while infinitely surpassing them” ( John Paul II, Evangelium Vitae, 2 ).

It is right that we speak a common language. The idea of solidarity, for instance, expresses the ties that unite us to one another in the one human family to which we belong together. It is a concept that has echoes in every truly human approach to life. We followers of Christ, however, know that in our seeking of solidarity a fire burns within us because Jesus speaks with us on the way. God’s revelation, as Pope John Paul said gives us, “a new model of the unity of the human race, which must ultimately inspire our solidarity. This supreme model of unity, which is a reflection of the intimate life of God, one God in three Persons, is what we Christians mean by the word ‘communion’” ( Sollicitudo Rei Socialis , 40 ). It is what we celebrate in this Eucharist.

In a world where everybody seemed to have religious convictions, we happily spoke of our quest for what is right in terms of a neutral language which allows us to work together in building a world in keeping with our deepest hungers and longings. It is particularly important in a secularised world that we do not fall into the trap of thinking that this neutral language is all we need. Otherwise we will build a world that doesn’t understand the source of the fire in human hearts or doesn’t think it relevant. If that happens, we will end up with a society that lacks the intensity of commitment, that so impresses Roy Hattersley, a society that lacks the zeal expressed by St Vincent de Paul when he said: “I belong to God and to the poor.” We prayed for that zeal in the Opening Prayer of the Mass.

The most important contribution that we can bring to a restless and often lost and fearful world is the zeal and the joy and the truth and the hope that come from our faith. That is what you are there to do. In the end, what we are not about is not a political programme, nor the perfection of structures, but about living and proclaiming the Good News, which “marvellously fulfils all the heart’s expectations while infinitely surpassing them”. The source of the fire that should burn in the work of the Episcopal Conference and its Commissions and Agencies must be to reflect on the Good News, to contemplate it in our hearts and to give thanks for it as we do in this Eucharist.

If we are inspired by that vision, those of other faiths and none may recognise the value and truth of what we do, and may say, “We want to go with you”. As we work with them, t hey may even begin to be freed and inspired by the Good News themselves and to say, “We have learned that God is with you” ( First Reading ).

+Donal Murray
Bishop of Limerick