Paul Kung
Today is the memory of St Teresa of Calcutta. We gratefully make memory of her love for Jesus, whom she adored in the Eucharist and whom she served in the flesh of the poorest of the poor: for her, one thing (adoration) naturally lead to the other (service).
The Eucharist and humanity (in its sufferings and in its destiny) are indeed linked together. “This is my body, this is my blood which will be given up for you…”
“For you”: in these two words we contemplate the willingness of Jesus to offer his life as a gift for me, for you, for every person: this gift of Grace, of Forgiveness, of Compassion is what saves us, every day.
In the same way, as a true “imitator of Christ,” Mother Teresa made of her own life a gift for the poorest of the poor — and she could do that because she believed in the mysterious presence of Jesus both in the Eucharistic Bread and in the flesh of her suffering brothers and sisters, regardless of the religion they belonged to.
I once assisted at one interesting conversation about this. A group of lay people in mainland, inspired by the charism of Mother Teresa, started to evangelize by doing charity work for the poor. However, there was a problem: only few of them converted and baptized. Hence the dilemma: what is the use of taking care of their bodies, if after death they will go to hell? They asked this question to a priest who used to work with Mother Teresa and knew her well. He said: she would not worry too much about it. Even though some of the people served by mother Teresa did convert and got baptized (though not many), that was not the main purpose of her work with the poor. Her main purpose —her vocation— was simply to serve Jesus in them. The power of her witness came from this.
She respected the mystery of freedom which is within the heart of every person: why some saw her and converted, and instead others haven’t? It’s a mystery, like it’s a mystery why Mother Teresa, after so many years as a respected nun teacher, decided to leave everything and live in the slams. Why her? Why a person who is already a nun and already settled? Every conversion and every vocation comes indeed from the interplay between God’s and our own freedoms.
Mother Teresa knew and respected the freedom of the poor she served, even the freedom to welcome Christianity or not, because her focus was only Jesus, whom she saw and whom she served in each of them: hence she treated anyone with tremendous dignity which included the respect of their choices about faith.
Thinking of this, I remember the beautiful passage of the first Encyclical Letter of Saint John Paul II, Redemptor Hominis, written in 1979. After affirming that Christ is the only way that leads to the Father, Saint John Paul II wrote (RH 13-14):
“By his Incarnation, he, the Son of God, in a certain way united himself with each man. […] We are not dealing with the “abstract” man, but the real, “concrete”, “historical” man. We are dealing with “each” man, for each one is included in the mystery of the Redemption, and with each one Christ has united himself for ever through this mystery. […]
This man is the primary route that the Church must travel in fulfilling her mission: “man” is the primary and fundamental way for the Church, the way traced out by Christ himself, the way that leads invariably through the mystery of the Incarnation and the Redemption.
This man is the way for the Church- a way that, in a sense, is the basis of all the other ways that the Church must walk – because man- every man without any exception whatever- has been redeemed by Christ, and because with man- with each man without any exception whatever- Christ is in a way united, even when man is unaware of it: “Christ, who died and was raised up for all, provides man “-each man and every man- “with the light and the strength to measure up to his supreme calling.
Since this man is the way for the Church, the way for her daily life and experience, for her mission and toil, the Church of today must be aware in an always new manner of man’s “situation”. That means that she must be aware of his possibilities […] She must likewise be aware of the threats to man and of all that seems to oppose the endeavor “to make human life ever more human” and make every element of this life correspond to man’s true dignity- in a word, she must be aware of all that is opposed to that process.”
Through her own life and choices, Mother Teresa was able to show to the Church what the passage of Redemptor Hominis concretely means, how to make “man” become the primary route that the Church must travel in fulfilling her mission: she did not limit herself to complain about the reality of poverty or to invoke changes in the political, social or ecclesial realm: she instead embraced the reality of poverty; she incarnated herself in that reality, she became the sign (I would say “the sacrament”) of God’s mercy and compassion right within the complex and difficult situation of the poor of Calcutta and of many other parts of the world.
Her life is a strong reminder for every evangelizer about the importance of seeing the human reality surrounding us – no matter how complex and unresponsive to God as it may be – with eyes of Jesus, and the importance of discovering in this reality the mysterious connection between each person with Christ.
This is a mystical attitude which only prayer can help us to achieve. When I was living in China, alone, since I could not celebrate the Eucharist in a church, I was often celebrating Mass in my apartment, with a window in view, from where I could look at the many buildings surrounding my home. For security reasons I could not reveal my identity to my neighbors, probably I would never had the chance to openly speak to any of them: however, especially during the Consecration of the Eucharist and the Elevation, by pronouncing the words “this is my Body, this is my Blood for you”, I could feel that those unknown brothers and sisters were truly connected to me because we were mysteriously united together by the Redemptive love of Jesus. I often prayed that the Eucharist I was celebrating could bring God’s blessing and God’s graces to all my unknown neighbors too.
In a similar way, I remember that, not long after I arrived in Taiwan as a young missionary, an old Jesuit priest shared with me the difficulties of being a missionary in Taiwan, where the percentage of Catholic is very low. He said: when I go to the market, I don’t know what to do to evangelize those people or how speak to them about God. I feel pretty useless. The only thing I do is to pray the Our Father telling God: “Father, they are your sons and daughters, and they don’t know it. But I know, and I praise and invoke you also on their behalf. Please bless all of them, protect and enlighten all of them. Our Father who art in heaven….”
I often thought of the prayer of that old Jesuit in the marketplace as an example of missionary prayer, because it puts in evidence what St John Paul II was underlining: the mysterious connection between Christ and every single person, with no exception. Without being aware of this connection, it is difficult indeed to evangelize in an environment which is complicated, fast changing and not conducive (if not openly hostile) to the Gospel. The danger, that I personally know too well, is to feel paralyzed (not knowing what to do) and not to trust in the capability of God to work in the heart of every person, with His times and in his ways (which take into account the freedom of the other).
I am saying this also thinking at the General Assembly of the Synod of Bishops next month which will focus on “Young People, the Faith, and Vocational Discernment.” How can the Church propose the beauty of the Gospel to a generation which seems to be not interested, almost impermeable to her voice?
In this regard, the life of the Saints is an invitation to hope. So many Saints were able to draw inspiration from the Tradition of the Church while embracing in a new way the complex reality of their time, without complaining or retreating from it. And by doing so, they brought an element of transformation into that reality – and by doing so, at the same time, they renewed the Church too.
Think of St Benedict, who through the network of his convents rebuilt the civil society after the fall of the Roman Empire. Think of St Francis, who with a life of simplicity and evangelical poverty restored a decadent Church… and we could go on and on….The charisms of all of our founders indeed show the creativity and the freedom of the Holy Spirit which is continuously renewing the face of the earth in perilous times, having a strong impact not only in the Church, but in the society and in the culture as well.
As we approach the beginning of the General Assembly of the Synod of Bishops about the Youth, next month, we indeed want to ask the Holy Spirit to enlighten us so that we might be able to witness to the youth the beauty of a life spent for God in this world, in this society, in this culture, knowing that Jesus is already connected with each and every one of the young people we have around, we minister to, or simply we see walking in the busy streets of Macau.
We don’t know exactly what is in the heart of our youth. Beyond their fragilities and darkness, we can feel that there is generosity; there is desire of meaning, of love, of happiness, of truth, of justice. Our hearts are the same. Yet, freedom plays a mysterious role, indeed: why, in the same complex reality, some youth are responsive to the Gospel and others are not? Beyond any sociological or psychological explanation, at the very depth of our souls, in the interplay between God’s invitation and human response, the decisive factor is freedom. What a mystery indeed! The greatest gift God has given to humanity could become also the greatest obstacle to connect humanity to Him.
But one thing we do know. Only a life lived with passion and meaning, like the one of Mother Teresa and other Saints, may be able to move the freedom of our youth and to provoke a generous answer about their own lives and about their future. This witness of life may be the only true game changer about the choices youth will do in the long run, more than elaborated pastoral plans (which nevertheless the Church do need to prepare and carry on).
Looking at the Saints, I feel that the conversion which is required from me in facing today’s youth is: to embrace reality without complaining, to live my vocation with passion and meaning and to have faith in God’s work in each person. For this conversion I truly have to pray.
I conclude with the words of one of the Hymns of the Breviary we use during evening prayers, which well summarizes my sharing.
Called from worship into service forth in your great name we go,
to the child, the youth, the aged, love in living deeds to show;
hope and health, goodwill and comfort, counsel, aid and peace we give,
that your children, Lord, in freedom, may your mercy know and live
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