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Marist Family
Retreat 1999
The
'New Church' in the context of Marist Spirituality
Jan
Hulshof sm
Our
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Hope
4. Our Priorties.
4.1 "OF ONE HEART AND ONE MIND" (ACTS 4: 32-35)
4.2 MARISTS FOR A MARIAN CHURCH
‘The community of believers were of one
heart and one mind. None of them ever claimed anything as his
own; rather, everything was held in common. With power the apostles
bore witness to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great
respect was paid to them all; nor was there anyone needy among
them, for all who owned property or houses sold them and donated
the proceeds. They used to lay them at the feet of the apostles
to be distributed to everyone according to need.’
We seem to have here in Luke 11:27f. a variant of the saying
on the true kinsfolk of Jesus in Luke 8:19f. In Luke 8 it
is the visit of the relatives of Jesus who wish to see Him,
that provides the occasion for the saying concerning the true
kinsfolk of Jesus: ?My mother and my brothers are those who
hear the word of God and act upon it?. In Luke 11 it is the
cry of the woman from the crowd extolling the privileges of
the mother of Jesus that provides the occasion for the saying:
?Rather blest are they who hear the word of God and keep it.?
This cry of the woman from the crowd is very expressive and
typical of oriental culture. There are three elements in her
cry. First of all what she really wants to extol is not the
mother but the son. Secondly she extols the son by extolling
the mother. And in the third place she extols the mother by
extolling the physical symbols of motherhood and fertility:
the womb that bore him and the breasts that nursed him. There
are quite a number of parallels in rabbinical literature.
For instance Rabbi Abba b. Zutra said (about 270) a similar
word about Rahel, the mother of Joseph and there also the
mother is extolled because of the son: ?Blest are the breasts
that nursed him and blessed is the womb that bore him?.

This
is the second of the three summary passages which outline
the chief characteristics of the Jerusalem community. The
first summary of Acts 2:42-47 underlines the adherence of
the first Christians to the teachings of the Twelve; the centering
of their life on the breaking of the bread; a distribution
of goods that led wealthier believers to sell their properties
in order to support the poor members of the community; their
daily attendance at the Temple, which shows that in the very
beginning there was little or no thought of a definitive separation
between Christians and Jews; their common meals; their praising
of God and their increase in numbers resulting from the quality
of community life. The second summary of Acts 4:32-35, which
we read above, starts with the famous words: ‘The community
of believers were of one heart and one mind’. It highlights
again the distribution of goods among the members of the community
and it speaks of the powerful witnessing to the resurrection
of the Lord by the apostles. The third summary, of Acts 5:12-16,
underscores the Twelve as the bulwark of the Jerusalem community
and their charismatic power to heal the sick and it speaks
again of the great numbers of men and women that were continually
added to the Lord. Scripture scholars assure us that these
summaries are not just meant as historic descriptions of something
that happened in the past.
The Acts of the Apostles portray the community
of Jerusalem as a kind of ‘paradise lost’ and a paradise to
be regained. We are called to keep alive the vision of community
as it was lived in the golden age of the beginning and as
it will be realised at the end of time. What do these summaries
tell us? First of all that each Christian community is based
on communion with God and on communion among its members:
on the Word of God, the teaching of the apostle’s and worship
on the one hand and on the sharing of houses, money and food
on the other hand. Both dimensions, the divine and the human,
come together in the breaking of the bread. Thirdly these
summaries tell us that a Christian community is not a closed
circuit, but open to the outside world, to every man and woman.
A Christian community is called in this world to bear witness
to the resurrection of the Lord with powerful signs and wonders.
These summaries tell us that the Jerusalem Church did not
bother too much about itself, it existed for an aim outside
itself. It did not bother about numbers. It did just what
it was called to do: to worship God, live out the Gospel and
bear witness to the resurrection. This Church did not sell
itself, but bore witness to the Lord. It did not attract people
by propaganda and publicity, but by its very life, and so
new members, men and women, were added ‘by the Lord’ (Acts
2:47) and ‘to the Lord’ (Acts 5:14).
No doubt
our Founders were very much inspired by the early Church.
Colin referred several times to the words ‘Cor unum et anima
una’ of Acts 4:32. When he wrote his rule in Cerdon, the reference
to the apostolic community was a guiding principle, not invented
by himself but received from on high: That is what he said
to his secretaries in 1869: ‘I had received the command to
look only to the apostles and to no other religious society’
. This is not a casual remark. The reference to the community
of the apostles returns several times during Fr. Colin's generalate.
Two years after the approval of the Society Fr. Colin remarks:
‘When I first presented my request to Rome, it was with the
great hope that, through it, the last centuries of the world
would see what the first century witnessed: the multitude
of believers having but one heart and one soul .’ When Colin
said these words, he had already experienced on a small scale
that they were not just theory. His residence was in La Capucinière
in Belley. He lived there as a Superior of the house in his
first three years as Superior General. A biographer of Colin,
writing of this community, said: . . . the family spirit,
with its deep affection and the relaxed and cordial atmosphere
that characterised mutual relationships, was one of the charms
of life at La Capucinière. Despite difference of age or social
condition, these theology students, who sometimes originated
from 20 different dioceses, made only one heart and one soul.
A novice during those years wrote in a letter
to a friend: ‘How wonderful, how good, to live as only one
heart and soul: cor unum et anima una. It is a sight that
at my first coming to this house made an extraordinary impression
on me’ . In the spring of 1841 we hear the words which have
become so well known in our Society: ‘As for ourselves, we
do not take any congregation for our model, we have no other
model than the new-born Church. The Society began like the
Church; we must be like the apostles and those who joined
them and were already numerous: Cor unum et anima una. They
loved each other like brothers’ . On 23rd September 1846 Fr.
Colin, according to Mayet, said ‘in a somewhat mysterious
and uneasy manner’ that ‘ in our very earliest days’ it was
‘foretold that the Society of Mary was to take as a model
none of the congregations which preceded it: no, nothing of
all that; but that our model, our only model, was to be and
indeed was the early Church .’ Four days later the same topic
returns: ‘You know that we must have no other model than the
early Church’ . As Fr. Coste has remarked. Fr. Colin perceived
this reference to the Jerusalem community as a directive coming
from on high and governing the whole of his work.’ ‘What Colin
felt was expected of him, Fr. Coste says, was not that he
should pick up here and there elements of a good legislative
text, but that he should take his inspiration from the primitive
Church to produce something new, to express a form of life
capable or renewing the impact of the first community; it
was this that mattered, not the fact of adding one more congregation
to those registered in the offices of the Holy See.’
Number
109 of the summarium of 1833 contains, according to Coste,
a strong indication that the primitive rule already contained
such a reference to the Church of the Acts of the Apostles.
The Summarium clearly expresses the hope of seeing come about
'‘at the end of time what was seen at the beginning’ the ‘cor
unum et anima una’ of Acts, 4,32. We find the words ‘one heart
and one mind’ in the spiritual Testament of Fr. Champagnat
of 6th June 1840: ‘Be of one heart and one mind. Have the
world say of the little Brothers of Mary, what they said of
the first Christians: See how they love one another’. And
the expression turns up also in the last recorded words of
Jeanne-Marie Chavoin of 29th June 1858: ‘Always be a bond
of union between your sisters so that all may have but one
heart and one soul and so draw down heaven’s blessing on this
house’.
Not long ago we meditated the texts of the
Acts of the Apostles with a group of younger lay Marists.
At once I discovered that each generation has its own sensitivity
to certain aspects of the Scripture. When we recalled how
much the unity of heart and soul had been underlined by our
founders, a young student said: ‘I feel always a bit anxious
and short of breath, when people start talking about how fine
it is to be united. It makes me feel like in a classroom or
in a scouting group where we had to wear the same uniform.
I don’t like too much unity, I like to be different. I need
a bit of space between myself and others.’ When we entered
the matter further, we discovered that we don’t call our congregation
a unity, but rather a community, that the word ‘communion’
is to be preferred to ‘unity’; that ‘communion’ implies a
relationship between people who are different and whose differences
should be an enrichment of the group and not just a problem
to overcome; and finally that the first Summarium of the Acts
of the Apostles says that the Christians devoted themselves,
not to unity, but to ‘koinonia’, which means ‘communion’ (2:42).
As a matter of fact also in ecumenical circles people more
and more discover that Jesus’ prayer for ‘unity’ has to be
understood in terms of ‘communion’ rather than ‘uniformity’.
In 1964
patriarch Athenagoras of Constantinople was asked by a journalist
of the catholic French newspaper ‘La Croix’: ‘Do you believe
that there will soon come a reunification of the Greek Orthodox
Church with the Church of Rome? Athenagoras answered: ‘There
has never been unity!’ Then he said to the surprised reporter:
‘There was a time we lived in communion and there will be
a time we shall live in communion again'. I believe, by the
way, that mothers are more sensitive to differences than fathers
are. In our parish, there was a mother with four children.
The oldest girl had gone to a convent, the youngest boy was
in prison. The second girl was a drug addict and the oldest
boy earned a decent living and had a fine family. The mother
used to say: ‘How different they are and how different they
were already when I got them. But I love them all the same.
I think mothers are artists of otherness. I can’t help for
recalling a word of Fr. Colin: ‘The congregation of Jesus
is a single body. With the Jesuits you must have talents and
many other things. In the congregation of the blessed Virgin,
it is not so. She is the mother of mercy. Her congregation
will have several branches. It will be open to all kinds of
people.’ ‘Koinonia’, ‘communion’ implies openness to all kinds
of people.
On the 12th of February this year your president
Mary McAleese delivered in Rome an inspiring address to missionaries:
‘Mission-A Hand of Friendship Across the Divide’, where she
explained how much the future of our world depends on our
capacity ‘to teach the next generation respect, real respect
for difference – to take from them and to bury the old bastions
of contempt.’ ‘How wonderful it would be if religion – the
source of so much conflict in the past – could in future become
the source of unity – if the wasteful quest for uniformity
could become a radical call to acceptance of diversity as
the essential prelude to unity. ’ To be of one heart and one
soul obviously is the fruit of immense learning and suffering.
This applies to the world as a whole, to the Churches, to
religious communities and to families as well.
Of course,
we should not believe the reference to the first community
of Jerusalem to be an exclusive Marist ear-mark. Fr. Colin
is not the first founder to draw inspiration from the vision
of the Jerusalem community in order to renew Christian life.
We read in the ‘Life of St. Augustine’ by Possidius: ‘As soon
he had become a priest, Augustine founded a monastery on the
grounds of the church of Hippo. He went to live there together
with the other servants of God following the way and the guidelines
established at the times of the saint apostles. The gist of
it is: ‘None in this community could claim anything as his
own, but they were to have everything in common and everybody
was to get what he needed (Acts 4:32-35).’ In the very first
Chapter of his Rule, St. Augustine says that the monks have
to be ‘Cor unum et anima una’ in God. After St. Augustine
the memory of the Jerusalem community has become an inspiring
driving force of many communities. What is typical for Colin
is the way he links the first community with the mother of
Jesus: ‘Cor unum et anima una'. They loved each other like
brothers. And they, ah! no one knows what devotion the apostles
had for the blessed Virgin! What tenderness for this divine
mother! How they had recourse to her! This relationship of
devotion and support between Mary and the apostles is even
stronger these last times. In his closing address at the retreat
of 1847 Fr. Colin says to the Marists who are going to leave
in various directions: ‘Yes, Messieurs, cor unum it anima
una’: we shall not be united in body, in the same place .
. . , but very much so in heart and mind’ . . . ‘Let us then
all be cor unum et anima una in this divine heart, in the
heart of our Mother’ .
Mary inspired the primitive Church with its
essential features: sense of mercy, openness for all kinds
of people, desire to be ‘cor unum et anima una’., preference
for the hidden values of the unlettered and the poor, ardent
zeal to bear witness to the resurrection of the Lord. Mary
inspires the Church of these last times with the same attitudes.
I notice that quite a few Marists are not really at ease with
the way Fr. Colin associates the Jerusalem community with
Mary. Apart from Acts 1:14 there seems to be no biblical base
for it. And the works of Maria de Agreda are not really fit
to fill the vacuum. This is not the right time to dwell on
this question. The only thing I want to say is that the vision
of Fr. Colin is not just the product of personal piety. One
only needs to read the beautiful patristic study of Hugo Rahner
‘Our Lady and the Church’ , to become aware of a vast iconographic,
liturgical and theological tradition that seems to blend the
figures of Eve, Mary and the Church. Rahner refers, for instance,
to the spiritual commentary on the Acts of the Apostles by
Arator, a poet of the VI century. Arator tells how the apostles,
after the Ascension of Jesus, return to the gates of Jerusalem,
where they will receive the Holy Spirit. In the mystical sense
of the word, they return to the Gate from where Christ, distributor
of the Spirit, comes towards us, they return to Mary, the
Mother of the Church. And therefore Arator extols the Holy
Virgin, round whom the apostles and the faithful rally. She
is the Gate, the Beginning of the Ecclesia. And he contemplates
in one sole vision the beginning and the end, the conception
of Christ and Pentecost, in as far as Pentecost implies the
birth of the spirit which enlightens all people.
There
is one other element which is quite original for Colin - Model
for the whole people of God. Colin does not see the Jerusalem
community as a model only for religious, but as a model for
the Church at large. In Church history the memory of the Jerusalem
community lived on especially in religious communities. Originally,
however, the Jerusalem community was not the model of a religious
community, but of the Christian community as such, the community
of believers called to be different from the world and its
way of life. When in the third and fourth century gradually
many people became Christians, the zeal of the Christian communities
was fading. Christians began to live in a Christian empire.
They were no longer different from the world. At that time
Christians went to the desert in order to live a life different
from the world. Communities of monks turned up. From now on
the ideal of Acts was lived out in religious communities.
What I find interesting is Fr. Colin's hope,
expressed in number 109 of the summarium of 1833, of seeing
come about, through the Third Order of Mary, what was seen
at the beginning: the whole Church living ‘cor unum et anima
una’. The ideal of the Jerusalem community was given back
to the people of God, men and women, children, and old people,
lay people and priests, sinners and just. And the Society
of Mary is called to prepare this new people of God. In the
eyes of Colin our Society therefore is nothing else but an
experimental garden, a testing station, to try out in daily
life the model of this Marian Church. This Marian Church is
an evangelising Church. It attracts people from outside, not
by propaganda or publicity, but because it answers the deepest
longings of people. It is a Church full of mercy, not a closed
circuit, but open to all kind of people. In this Church exist
communion and solidarity, especially with those most in need.
In this Church there is a real communion, first of all between
rich and poor, but also between women and men, between lay
people and ordained ministers and finally between the different
particular Churches.

The phrase
'Of one heart and one mind' indicates an ideal. But it can
also be misunderstood. A community of Christians is not just
a club for sociable company. As soon as it becomes inward
directed it looses its strength. A community is directed towards
a reality that goes far beyond itself. If we forget this,
we easily get entangled in all kinds of conflicts and problems.
A community is directed towards a reality that is bigger than
itself. We call it the Kingdom of God. Therefore we call a
community, missionary.
The communion with God and with others needs
to be celebrated, explicitly and regularly in prayer, in worship,
in the Eucharist. Prayer and worship therefore always have
been and are still today our first priority. This is what
the first Christians felt. This is what we feel today. Thirty
years ago some Christians were so impressed by Marxist criticism
of religion that they almost felt inclined to apologise for
praying and not spending all their time in social action.
I remember discussions in the sixties at the university of
Munster, where young priests were questioning seriously the
usefulness of praying with the sick in the hospital instead
of analysing and fighting the economic, social and psychological
conditions that make people ill in our capitalist society.
Diametrically opposed to this very secular mentality is the
insight of all the religions that there are sufferings and
sorrows that can only be healed by prayer. Sometimes heaven
can only be cracked by prayer, as it is shown in a Chassidic
Tale.
A Rabbi ordered his servant
to get together ten men for a Minjan to sing psalms for a
sick person to be healed. When the ten arrived the friend
of the Rabbi exclaimed: ‘I see notorious burglars among them!’
‘That is all right!, the Rabbi answered. ‘When all the treasuries
of Grace are locked, we need experts to open them.’
Wise
people have always known that prayer and social awareness
shouldn’t be put off against one another. They rather reinforce
each other. Jean Vanier says that often a community stops
crying to God when it has itself stopped hearing the cry of
the poor, when it has become self-satisfied and set for a
way of ease and security. It is when we are aware of the distress
and misery of our people and of their suffering, when we see
them in need and sense our own inability to do much about
it, that we will cry loudly to God. When a community really
is in touch with people in need, their cry becomes its own.
Indeed, when all the treasures of Grace seem to be locked,
we need experts to open them. Prayer and worship are a first
priority of every Christian community and of course also of
every Marist community as our Constitutions clearly point
out, especially in the section ‘Everyday Life’ (114-115)
What does the memory of the Jerusalem community
bring about in our lives? We got very much used to the word
‘mission’ as the crux, the essence of our Marist vocation.
In our constitutions there is no word that occurs so often,
apart from the name Mary and, believe it or not, the word
‘provincial’. The frequent use of the word ‘mission’ is a
message in itself. For Colin, Chavoin and Champagnat our Society
was not a purely inner communion of men and women imbued with
the same spirit, no matter what work they did. The Society
for them was a religious body called to carry out a mission
for the good of the whole people of God at this crucial watershed
in history. So we understand why our new Constitutions use
the word ‘mission’ so often. Still, the word runs the risk
of misunderstanding. ‘Mission’ is not equivalent to ‘missionary
activities’. We are missionary, first of all through our lives
and only at a later stage also through our activities. A Marist
can fulfil his mission entirely, even if, for whatever reason,
he doesn’t take part in any missionary activity. But no Marist,
as active as he might be, can fulfil his mission, if his life
itself is not evangelical, if he is not really devoted to
prayer, to the sharing of goods, to the sharing of life. That’s
why the memory of the Jerusalem community is decisive. It
shows that everything begins with common worship, brotherly
love, mutual solidarity: the sharing of prayer, goods and
life. This is the heart of the primary mission of every religious
community.
In a
very profound sense a community does not only have a missionary
project, it is a missionary project. A community is more than
a home base for missionary activities. It is a mission in
itself. Communion and mission are two aspects of the same
reality. If people, because they are totally wrapped up in
their activities, neglect their community, they do harm to
their mission. If people are totally wrapped up in their mutual
relations and forget about the outside world, they do harm
to their community. Jean Vanier, the founder of the ark-communities
tries to explain why. He refers to Bruno Bettleheim who said
that he was convinced that communal life can flourish only
if it exists for an aim outside itself. ‘Community is viable
if it is the outgrowth of a deep involvement in a purpose
which is other than, or above, that of being a community.
’ Jean Vanier comments: ‘The more authentic and creative a
community is in its search for the essential, the more its
members are called beyond their own concerns and tend to unite.
The more lukewarm a community becomes towards its original
goals, the more danger there is of its membership crumbling,
and of tensions. Its members will no longer talk about how
they can best respond to the call of God and the poor. They
will talk instead about themselves and their problems, their
wealth or their poverty, the structures of the community.
There is a vital like between the two poles of community;
its goal and the unity of its members’ . In the Acts of
the Apostles, the goal of the Jerusalem community is not community
in itself, but communion with God and communion with others.
The communion with God and with men needs
to be lived out in our witness. ‘With power the apostles bore
witness to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus . . .’ Evangelisation
is our third priority. It is a matter of communication, of
dialogue, of listening and speaking. But how to evangelise
today? People today are more conscious of their independence
and freedom than ever before. The verb ‘evangelise’ doesn’t
tolerate the passive voice, a direct object. People don’t
like to be worked on by evangelists. More than ever before
they refuse to be overshouted. We know that the problem of
evangelisation will not be solved by amplifiers. The problem
is not that the message is not heard, but that the message
that people hear is no answer to their needs. In present day
Europe many of the people who never go to any Church are searching
for authenticity, freedom, peace, friendship, healing and
reconciliation. All research points in that direction. But
whatever they are looking for, they want to be respected in
their autonomy and in their freedom of conscience.
This
throws the Church off balance because it does not allow for
the sort of social control on which it traditionally relied.
Still, I am sure Jesus would say to many people today what
he said to the scribe: ‘You are not far from the reign of
God’ . Aren’t they quite close to Jesus? Doesn’t he himself
invite them to exercise their own responsibility, where He
downgrades the importance of all earthly fathers, teachers
and masters, where He fights the hypocrites, stands up for
the purity of human intentions and calls people to a new justice?
We should recognise that the emphasis on freedom and authenticity
is basically a Gospel value. Jesus challenges people to convert
from what is not authentic, not truthful and from whatever
amounts to pure formalities. He calls them to return to the
pure but hidden origin of their lives, the mystery that He
calls ‘Our Father’ . Yes, to many people today whom we call
‘unchurched’ Jesus would say: ‘You are not far from the reign
of God’. How should we have the right to disagree with Him?
In this situation it’s worthwhile to listen to our Constitutions.
They tell that we can learn from Fr. Colin, and like him from
Mary, how to approach the work of evangelisation. The spirit
of ‘hidden and unknown’ should help us to be gentle with other
people, respectful of their freedom, and sensitive to their
point of view. So our spiritual tradition can help us to announce
the Gospel in such a way that our message strikes a chord
with the deeper desires of people in our time. Our own spiritual
tradition is a school to train us in attitudes that are basic
for evangelisation in a secularised world, especially among
youth.
‘Through the hands of the apostles, many
signs and wonders occurred among the people’ (Acts 4:33, 5:12).
Social justice and education are crucial signs and wonders
of our time and they are our fourth priority. They are an
integral part of evangelisation. Preaching the Gospel is a
particularly difficult task today. People today are more pragmatic
than ever before. They don’t like words. They like experience,
they like life. But there is a misunderstanding. Evangelisation
is not just a matter of words. It’s a matter of words and
works. I am struck by the unbreakable link between word and
sign, preaching and healing in the life of Jesus, the apostles
and the saints. I’m convinced that people became believers
through signs rather than through words. They became Christians
through the works of mercy, through experiences of healing,
nursing, teaching and housing rather than through sermons
and discussions. Especially in the beginnings of our Society
there has been a particular sensitivity to the needs of the
poor, the illiterate, the prisoners, the sick and the homeless.
One only has to look at the home missions of the Marist fathers,
at the first schools of the Marist brothers, at the fact that
visiting the prisoners and the sick is referred to in the
Cerdon Constitutions not only as ‘a means’ but as one of the
‘objectives’ of the Society. In the Constitutions of 1872
the visiting of the prisoners and the sick is just one of
the various means to obtain the second goal of the Society.
Marists in Europe were at that time perhaps already less close
to the underprivileged. In the new Constitutions, number 12
mentions the visiting of the sick and the imprisoned as works
of mercy, implied in the missionary call of the Marists. There
is however a remarkable addition: ‘They attend especially
to the most neglected, the poor, and those who suffer injustice.
Even though the phrasing sounds somewhat paternalistic, this
is the first time the Society’s Constitutions, when speaking
about the missionary call of the Marists, bring up the theme
of injustice.
Number
111 calls our involvement in matters of justice an integral
part of evangelisation. Through this statement the new Constitutions
subscribe to the wording of Evangelii Nuntiandi (no 29), which
through the Puebla documents acquired such a prominent place
in the Church’s policy. Our relationship to the poor, to the
illiterate, to the victims of oppression, is not only a matter
of mercy but of justice as well. And this commitment to justice
is an integral part of evangelisation. For the General Chapter
of 1993 the preferential option for the poor and marginalised
is one of the important criteria for choosing a ministry.
(In the same sense, the Chapter, when establishing basic criteria
for choosing a ministry emphasises that we are called ‘ to
consecrate ourselves to all forms of education, especially
with youth. ) Marists are called ‘to have direct contact with
the poor and the marginalised; to pursue action for justice
as integral to evangelisation; to find concrete ways to live
out our commitment with the poor wherever we minister by being
attentive, in the light of the Gospel, to the ways in which
the poor analyse the causes of their own impoverishment; by
becoming fully aware of the mechanisms which create poverty
(e.g. international debt) ’. What the statements concerning
a preferential option for the poor really imply, in terms
of changes, conversion, and sacrifices, does not appear from
the texts.
So we come to the fifth priority, Marists
will pray, evangelise, commit themselves to works of justice
and education. They also build up the local Christian community.
This is the fifth priority. In the spirit of Fr. Colin the
type of Christian community to build up, is basically a Marian
community, guided by the Queen of the Apostles, hidden and
unknown and yet imbuing everything with her spirit. Their
sensitivity to the Marian face of the Church should help Marists
to build up the Church and to overcome the divisions that
hurt the communion of the Church;
- Mary confronts ordained ministers in the
Church with the dignity of all who in the Nazareth of their
daily lives, far from priests and temple, live in faith, hope
and charity. In a Marian Church there is no place for clericalism,
neither in its older forms, nor in its newer, more subtle
forms. In this sense the General Chapter of 1993 points at
‘the providential coincidence between the Church’s rediscovery
of the central importance of the laity . . . and Fr. Colin’s
ideas to involve the laity in renewing the Church in the spirit
of Mary’
- The utopian vision of the Marian People
of God should incite us to a profound ecumenical attitude.
As image of the pilgrim Church Mary reminds all the Churches
of God that they are still on the way in faith, hope and love.
As image of the Church, fulfilled and fully healed, free of
spot or wrinkle, she reminds all the Churches that no Church
is fully catholic, no Church is fully healed, until it is
reconciled and in communion with each of its sister Churches.
- The
Church will become a real communion only when men and women
in public life as well as in the Church, in the fields of
proclamation and service, of liturgy and governance, learn
to work together as equals. The Marian profile of the Church,
faith, hope and love, should become the more important one.
Only then will there be room to shape the ministries, so to
speak the Petrine profile, in such a way that the equal dignity
of all the baptised is recognised. This is what Marists should
be working on.
Prayer, evangelisation, commitment to justice,
education and commitment to the local Church are our priorities.
But the field is wide and the options are many. What is the
decisive criterion for Marists? The General Chapter of 1993
emphasises the apostolate of mercy to those most in need as
the first basic criterion for choosing a ministry: ‘We are
called to establish future projects to meet real and urgent
human needs (Const. 8,14) acknowledging that we are chosen
to be instruments of mercy, revealing the maternal face of
God’. Mary McAleese to whom I referred earlier, has explained
better than any religious author could, what these words of
our Constitutions mean: that we are chosen to reveal the maternal
face of God. She says:
‘My
own deepest insight into the meaning of God’s love and his
plan for humankind comes to me through the mystery and wonder
of motherhood. When my first daughter Emma was born, I approached
the new role of motherhood with the jaundiced eye of older
sister to five brothers and three sisters. I had had babies
up to my tonsils throughout my teenage life. My mother and
her siblings had taken to heart the Gospel call to increase,
multiply and fill the earth, except that they thought they
had to do it single-handed. Between them they had sixty
children most of them younger than me. If the truth be told
I had a relatively underwhelmed attitude to babies generally.
I was surprised therefore to find myself so completely overwhelmed
and totally smitten by my own daughter. I loved her to bits.
Consequently when I discovered some two years later that
I was expecting twins I hit an unexpected crisis. These
twins were badly wanted but for nine awful months I struggled
to comprehend how I was going to divide this wonderful river
of love for Emma between two more children. I was heartbroken
for her. She was now to have two thirds of her normal allotment
of love withdrawn and distributed among her rival siblings.
I thought it was a shameful thing to do to a child, but
what else was there to do? How little I knew. When the twins
were born and I passed through that knowledge and experience
barrier that books are incapable of explaining, I knew how
rudimentary, simplistic and pathetic was my comprehension
of love. There was no need to share what Emma had. Here
were two new babies, each one with their unique river of
grace and love. Not only did I not have to share Emma’s
love, it was now enhanced and even more vibrant, touched
as it was by these two new lives. You cannot divide love.
Its nature is to multiply, to embrace openly and widely,
to draw in, not to exclude, to make each feel part of the
group, to make each feel completely at home, to reconcile.
Exclusivity is not in the nature of God. He made each one
of us, called us by our name, knew us before we were born,
has the very hairs on each head counted. God has no favourites.
Captor and captive are his cherished children. Calvary is
his gift to all. The resurrection is his promise. The Second
Coming is his invitation. It is an invitation to experience
his loving presence, to share it and to bring the world
out of chaos into reconciliation with Him. This is the task
– the missionary task for the third millennium – simple
and only elusive if we let it be.

Our Constitutions remind us of the apostolate
of mercy of the first Marists as a founding experience of
the Society. ‘Like the first missionaries in Bugey they proclaim
the Good News of God's mercy to those most in need’ The first
Marists had to define their attitude when they faced the moral
rigorism that marked the Church climate in France and elsewhere
in the nineteenth century. Fr. Colin himself had learned this
moral rigorism in the major seminary, but in the course of
the Bugey missions his attitude changed, first in the confessional
and then also in his moral preaching. In 1838-1839 he declared:
‘In the Society we shall profess all those opinions which
give greatest play to the mercy of God. ’ The attitude of
mercy did not only appear in the confessional, but his whole
approach was characterised by gentleness and understanding.
During our holiday we took a walk that started and finished
in Tenay, a Little town in Le Bugey, one of the places where
Marists went to preach a mission. At the beginning of the
last century some weaving mills had come to the village.
In the Mayet Memoirs we find an echo of the
specific problems the Marists had to face there. ‘Father Ducournau
said to them, Father, in one parish where I gave a mission
there were some factories. The works manager prevented his
workers from coming to our talks. What should we have done?
Well, in that case, Father Colin replied, ‘a little patience
and balm, not speaking out, making excuses for them, expressing
regret that the managers’ business did not allow them to arrange
suitable times for the workpeople. If some should come, you
should compliment them, speak to them kindly, show your gratitude
to their masters . . . That happens several times and little
by little they all come. The managers are ashamed of their
behaviour. While I myself was giving missions, we went once
to quite a large town where there were some factories. We
adopted that approach and everyone followed the mission. It
was at Tenay, near Belley.’ Fr. Colin recalls the Tenay experience
in the context of a discussion on the attitudes of the Marists
to the rich and to the poor. Colin certainly did not want
Marists to be thick with the rich. They should be life Jesus:
‘He was a man of the people. He was always with the poor,
he loved the poor, the ordinary people, and he was constantly
surrounded by them. Let him be our model.; Still the Marists
have to be careful not to reject the rich, who because of
their education and pride are far more sensitive to the slightest
sign of clericalism. They have to be saved as well:
‘Messieurs, let us learn
to understand the human heart. Let us put ourselves in the
place of those we are speaking to. Would outbursts of invective
against us win our hearts? Let us on the contrary find excuses
for them, congratulate them on their good qualities (there
are always some), but no reproaches. I do not know of a single
instance where invective from the pulpit has done any good.’
Some people may think that the preaching
of Gods mercy, so characteristic for the apostolate of the
first Marists, today has lost its interest. We all know too
well that since the second Vatican Council this strict morality
has been subject to severe criticism. Some people clearly
state today that the post-conciliar criticism of Jansenistic
rigorism in its turn has now gone to the other extreme. I
know in my country young priests and even bishops who just
cynically laugh at the broad-minded Church for all people.
Rather than what they call ‘the watered-down Christianity
of the masses’ they call for the small flock, for the undiluted
wine of strict Gospel morality. Marists will find in their
spirituality reasons not to put the problem that way. Do we
have to choose between the straight way and the open places?
Between Jesus as He drives the money changers out of the temple
and Jesus as He eats with publicans and sinners? Only love
can reconcile the apparent contradictions of the Gospel. Love
asks for more than the law and gives more than what is due.
A pastoral approach of compassion does not offer easy compromises
with human sinfulness but helps people to grow to their measure
of fullness and surrender to God’s love. It will be one of
the most demanding challenges for each Marist, individually,
and for each Marist community and province, to find concrete
ways to turn our preaching of God’s mercy into attitudes,
actions, teachings and structures of reconciliation, accompaniment
and help and so to contribute to the never ending task of
building the community of ‘one heart and one soul’.
Jan
Hulshof sm.
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