Synod - Day 0

Last night I took up my residence for the next two weeks in the International Center for Missionary Animation, located on the campus of the University Urbaniana on the summit of the hill known as the Janiculum, overlooking St. Peter's Basilica. Indeed, this rather modest residence has a most remarkable view of St. Peter's Square. Go to this site - http://www.ciam-va.com/foto.html - to see various photographs that will help you discover my new, temporary residence. Click on 'camera' to see my simple room... and on 'vista del terrazzo' to enjoy the view.

It's the Secretariat of the Synod that assigned the various residences to the participating bishops. I'm discovering this one for the first time. It's part of a university complex that the Vatican has built up over the centuries to ensure the specific formation of priests from what we used to call 'missionary countries'. In fact, the majority of the twenty bishops residing here come from these countries. At lunch, I conversed with Benjamin Ndiaye, bishop of Kaolack in Senegal, where the Christians make up barely one percent of the total population, a few drops in a Muslim ocean; with Samuel Kleda, archbishop of Douala in Cameroun, who worries about the corruption and avariciousness of the leading classes of his region; and with Ignatius Kaigama, archbishop of Jos in Nigeria, caught in the struggle with the terrorist group Boko Haran. I'm quickly growing in my awareness of the universality of our Catholic Church; of the diversity of cultural, political and economic experiences that mark us; of the very particular - and minority - viewpoint that I bring, coming from North America with its wealth, secularism and liberal mindedness. I believe we'll be living a truly international encounter during the coming weeks, in the fullest sense of the word.

The event that gathered us on this festive day, a kind of forward to the Synod, was Mass with Pope Francis. In the short and poignant homily he gave - the kind he specializes in! - he drew a parallel between the Gospel of the day and our own synodal journey. In this Gospel passage, Jesus presents the parable of the vine, whose managers seek to control the profit in spite of the master's plan. Following the old tradition of the Psalms and of the prophets, Jesus reminds his audience that the vine is God's people. The master is God's very self, who tends his People 'with a love which is patient and faithful, so that they might become a holy people, a people that will bear many fruits of justice'. Who are the managers? Today, we could say it's the bishops. But here's the key question: are we like the managers of the parable, betraying the master's dream because of our own cupidity or pride, in order to make of it what we want? The Pope continues: 'We can 'disappoint' God's dream if we do not allow the Holy Spirit to guide us. May the Spirit give us that wisdom, which is so much beyond knowledge, to work generously with true freedom and humble creativity.'

Love of the people, wisdom, freedom and creativity: these are the kew-words to remember as we enter into the synodal process proper. I hope with all my heart that these words will indeed be characteristic of our work in the days to come.

Synod - Day -1

Saturday morning, Franfurt airport, en route for Rome

Tomorrow sees the beginning of the third extraordinary assembly of the Synod of Bishops. I will be participating as president of the Canadian Conference of Catholic Bishops, one of 114 presidents of  national conferences called to this assembly. With us will be the heads of Oriental Catholic Churches, leaders of the dicasteries that form the Roman Curia, delegates personally named by Pope Francis, observers, experts and oecumenical delegates: more than 200 participants, if I'm not mistaken.

You already know the theme: 'The pastoral challenges of the family in the context of evangelization'. There's been a lot of talk about it since last November when the Secretariat of the Synod sent a questionnaire about these challenges to the episcopal conferences of the world, inviting the bishops to proceed with a broad consultation. Need I remind you that this Synod will only be preparing the material for the general Synod which will be held next year on the same theme?

I had the honour of participating in a Synod once before in 2005. This was the Synod on the Eucharist as source and summit of the life and mission of the Church. It had been called by John Paul II, but was presided by Benedict XVI. I must admit I was not bombarded then as I have been these past weeks with letters, emails, books and articles, request for interviews and more advice than I could imagine. This is obviously a sign of the interest that has been raised by the theme as well as the expectations that seem to attend anything to do with Pope Francis. It also reflects the seriousness of the issues that will be discussed. I think this is healthy for our Church. Such an exchange of views can only deepen our reflection and better guide our action as we accompany today's families.  

As I sit in front of this large window gazing at the reflections of the rising sun in the the portholes of the many planes that grace the airport here in Frankfurt, I'm trying to articulate what I'm feeling in the present moment. To be quite honest, I feel a bit overwhelmed. First of all, by the responsibility which is mine as a diocesan bishop, a responsibility I try my best to fulfill in a diocese that, like so many others, is seeking to find the way of the Gospel in the modernity that surrounds us. This past week, I found myself trying to extinguish many small fires: a discouragement here,  a disappointment there, one's frustrations, another's misunderstandings. I can't seem to keep up with my correspondence or my emails. And to top it all off, I friend of mine is close to death. She's too young, much too young... 

 

I'm reading many very serous studies, theological and pastoral reflections concerning the subjects we'll be discussing at the Synod, and I feel like I'd need a sabbatical year just to get a better grasp of the theology of marriage, of the ministry of reconciliation, of ecclesiastical procedural law and of spirituality. There's so much to learn.

Yes, I feel overwhelmed... and quite small. Who am I to speak on behalf of the Bishops of Canada in this august assembly, when we've had so little time to listen to each other on these most important topics? My own experience is so limited, my point of view so partial...

However, someone had to be here, someone has to speak up and engage the conversation. As it did for Saint Matthias, the lot fell upon me. So I have to seriously set myself to seeking God's will for me, in prayer, in humility and in listening. And for this, I'm counting on you, dear readers: please accompany me, accompany all of us in your daily prayers during the next two weeks. Let us pray for one another so that the whole People of God might take up this moment to reflect on our families, on the families that surround us, on all the families of the world. May we be able to take up together the challenges that are ours 'in the context of evangelisation'.

The Two Movements of the Christian Life

Read Timothy 1:8-10

“For God has saved us, and given us a holy vocation.” Thus does Saint Paul present Christian life.

First, we are saved. That is to say we discover God’s love for us. Such a discovery sets us free from fear, liberates us from all those needs that lead us to choose evil. In salvation, we discover life not as a trial to be endured but as a gift to be opened.

Then, we are sent. That is to say we discover God’s mission for us, our vocation. God invites us to collaborate in the realisation of his loving plan for humanity. It is not enough that we should be the passive subjects of his love, God wants us to be active players, involved with God in bringing about the Kingdom of justice, peace and joy.

We must not forget this: vocation flows out of salvations, not vice versa. We are not saved because we follow Christ; rather, we follow Christ because we are saved. For example, I do not attend Mass on Sundays “so that” God will love me; rather, I attend Mass on Sundays “because” God loves me. In this slight change of perspective lies all the beauty of Christian life. All of its challenge, too.

In the Catholic, Orthodox and Anglican churches, we find three sacraments of initiation : baptism, confirmation and Eucharist.

Baptism is the sacrament of salvation. It is the sacred ritual through which we are plunged into the death of Christ in order to live with him forever. We become brothers and sisters of Jesus, children of the one Father. Our hearts are opened to his love.

Confirmation is the sacrament of vocation. It is the sacred ritual through which we are anointed by the Spirit, sent with Christ to bring the Good News to others by what we do, by what we say, by what we are.

The Eucharist – Mass – continually takes up these two movements: we taste God’s love and then are sent to share that love in the world. That is why we say the Eucharist is the source and summit of the Church’s life and mission.

One must breathe to stay alive. Breathing means not only taking air into our lungs, but also blowing that air back out into space. Both movements are essential. It is the same with Christian life: we must welcome God’s love in our hearts and then send it back into the world.

Every seven days, Sunday Mass gives us the time to breathe deeply and to rediscover that, indeed, “God has saved us” and “has given us a holy vocation.”

A Cosmic Struggle

Read Romans 5 : 12-19

This first Sunday of Lent presents us with one of the central texts in all of Paul’s writings. In this passage of his letter to the Romans, Paul describes the cosmic battle between good and evil, Jesus representing the forces of good and Adam, those of evil.

It reminds me a bit of Star Wars, that famous series of films where the universe is represented as being sustained by a “force” which itself is composed of a luminous aspect and a “dark side.” Luke Skywalker, the hero of these films, must avoid giving in to the dark side of this “force” the way his father did. He must choose between these two aspects of the “force.”

This can be compared to the Christian understanding of God. Like the “force” in the movie, the God of Jesus-Christ sustains the universe with power. The cosmos is born out of the almighty will of God. But there are at least two major differences between the “force” of these fictitious films and the reality of God. First, God is not an impersonal “force,” but a loving strength, a compassionate presence. The “force” doesn’t care. God does. And – what is equally important to remember – there is no “dark side” to God. As Paul teaches us, God is nothing but light, mercy, love. It is in turning away from God, in rejecting his loving power, that we plunge ourselves into darkness and death.

This is what Adam did, according to the story that opens the Bible. By turning away from God, he plunged himself into darkness with all his descendants. He inaugurated a cycle of violence that, since that beginning, has characterized human history, a history in which we are all involved from the moment of our births. Adam’s refusal of God encompasses and represents all the refusals that will follow, including our own.

Yet, in the face of these refusals, the inexhaustible love and mercy of the One who holds the whole world in his hands endures. God sent his Son to reverse the cycle of violence inaugurated by Adam. This violence, this evil that weaves its dark veil over human history, cannot stand before the luminous presence of Christ. As Saint Paul says, “there is no comparison between the free gift of God and the fault.” Indeed, the gift of God overtakes the fault, forgives it, erases it, overcomes its deathly effect.

It remains for us to choose with whom we shall stand : with Adam, our proud, rebellious, sinful grand-father? Or with Jesus, our obedient, faithful, loving big brother? Unlike Luke Skywalker, we are not abandoned to ourselves in making this choice. God himself reaches out to us, giving us his Spirit, the power we need to choose life. During these fourty days, let us open our hearts to the Spirit, let us choose to live with Christ. This is my prayer for us all as we start Lent. 

Night and Day

Read Romans 13:11-14

There used to be a time when the only light available at night came from candles or oil lamps. Night-time then was full of mysterious, threatening airs. When I was a member of the Scouts, I used to go camping in the forest. Gathered around the campfire, we felt fine. But as soon as we moved away, the gathering darkness scared us. We were happy to have companions under the tent. Once, I had to sleep all alone and it sure took me a while to fall asleep.

Such night-time is a time of terrible loneliness. Unable to see beyond the radius of the light from the candle, I feel the world closing in on itself, reducing itself to the limit of my eyesight. I feel isolated, alone, cut off from everyone. The world consists only of my thoughts, my feelings, my fantasies, my passions… I become the centre of my world.

Such night-time is a time of criminal activity. Darkness hides all kinds of vices and violence. Since none can see what others are doing, all feel free to do things they would never do in the light of the day. Nothing, no one is there to put a limit on my passions. It’s the time for armed robbery, for arson, for murder. Once the sun has gone down, no one goes out alone.

Such-night time is full of lies. Pleasure is promised, yet joy is slain. Power is promised, but vitality is sapped. The world is promised, but all is lost. We wake up sad, tired and alone.

Such night-time is symbolic of a way of being which, in fact, impedes us from truly being. Saint Paul tells us that Christ came to take us out of this night of strange and frightening dreams. Christ is the light that shines in the depth of night, the One who carries light to the heart of darkness, so that our eyes might be open to reality and help us see, right next to us, those brothers and sisters who stand with open arms.

Such night-time must be left behind. We are called to believe in the dawn, to walk towards the day, to live under the sun. During these first weeks of Advent, let us contemplate each little coloured light that shines in our trees and around our houses. Let us see in them a reminder, a sign of this great truth: Christ came to free us from darkness and make us live in the light. Let us journey towards Christmas as we walk into the light of day.

From one friend to another

Read II Thessalonians 2:16 to 3:5

As I read last Sunday's excerpt of Paul’s letter to the Thessalonians, I imagined a man writing a letter to a good friend who was going through a rough time. The two men share the Christian faith, and it is in that context that the first writes the following words to the second.

"My dear friend, I’m so sorry to hear about your problems. I’d give an arm and a leg to be with you, to help and support you. But you know that, even if I can’t be there, the Lord is with you, at your side. Remember, He’s never let you down through any hard times in the past. On the contrary, the Lord has always been a source of hope and comfort for you. I know that, once again, He will give you the courage you need and the wisdom to choose the right words to say, the correct actions to take.

"You know, I’m finding life rather difficult myself, these days. It seems that a lot of obstacles have arisen in my path. I’d love to be able to share with everyone the love and joy God has put in my heart, but not everyone is open to that, as you well know…

 "Yet, I have hope. Sometimes, I stop and think of Jesus and how he endured all the trials of life, even the trial of rejection and torture and death on the cross. He never gave up. He endured to the end. Believe me, my friend, he will help us do the same!

"I know what a good heart you have. I know all your strengths and your abilities. I believe in you. Even more, I believe in the Spirit of Jesus abiding in you. My prayer is that the Lord will lead you closer to him through this time of trial. The Lord can use even obstacles and failures to help us grow in love.

"You know that, in his resurrection, Jesus destroyed the power of death. You know that his victory over evil is complete, even if it doesn’t seem so right now. One day, we will see his glory. Knowing that already gives us patience, courage and strength to endure.

"So, my man, don’t let go! I’ll be with you in my prayer. The Lord will be with you in his love!"


I think that is what Paul was trying to tell the Thessalonians two thousand years ago. And that’s what I want to tell you today, you who know trials and tribulations. Have faith, for God is faithful. The Lord will lead you to life in abundance.

Living in the present moment

Read II Thessalonicians 1:11 to 2:2

"Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again." At each celebration of Mass, the entire congregation proclaims its faith in these words, where past, present and future come together: in the past, Jesus lived, taught, healed, gave his life for us on the cross; in the present, he is risen, reigning in heaven whence he sends the Spirit to abide in our hearts; in the future, he will return in the glory of the Kingdom.

Christians live the present with intensity, for they are deeply involved in it. The memory of Christ’s love commands this involvement, for they seek to follow in his steps and imitate his love. The proclamation of his return energizes this involvement, for they know that, in the end, love will have conquered hatred, life will have triumphed over death. Faith in the past and hope for the future nourish love in the present.

Yet, a problem can arise when we seek refuge in the past, idealize the “good ol’ days”, lose ourselves in dreams and memories. In today’s lesson, Paul invites his readers to commit themselves to action in the present, to activate the grace which has been given to them, to shine with God’s glory in their daily lives.

A second problem can occur when we become entranced with the future, obsessively seeking signs of Christ’s return, sinking in imagination and fantasies. Paul invites the same readers to become neither foolish nor fearful. He invites them to allow their hope to nourish their daily faithfulness, rather than seeking to escape the present moment.

True Christian faith is a faith that is involved in today’s world. Nourished by the living memory of Jesus and by the hope of his glorious return, this faith neither seeks refuge in the past nor escape in the future. It is in the here and now of daily life that Christian faith develops and is expressed. The person I need to love is at my side, near me. The work I must accomplish is right there, before my eyes. The world to be transformed is the world I read about in the daily news.

A volunteer welcomes a pilgrim on the road to Compostella

Temptation awaits us, as it did the Thessalo-nicians. Let us neither regret the past, nor lose our-selves in fantasies about the future. Let us open our eyes on today’s world, the world where the Lord waits for us and journeys with us. 

Nothing is more realist than Christian faith.