Wednesday, 23 April 2025

FAREWELL TO FRANCIS

 

FAREWELL TO FRANCIS

Inevitably, the BBC speculates who will be the next pope. But it is a little tiresome as they never get it right. Francis came from nowhere and was on no one’s guess list. Yet he was just the pope we needed. Coming from the ‘ends of the earth’, as he mentioned on that first evening as pope, he had none of the ‘baggage’ centuries of the European mind frames normally land on a pope even before he dons his white soutane.

His first words from the balcony of the residence adjoining St Peter’s were ‘Buona Sera’ (Good evening). Can you think of anything more banal as the day closes? Yet they unleashed a storm of greeting from the crowds waiting below in St Peter’s square. They marked something distinctly ordinary and down to earth in the new pope’s approach and the people immediately recognised it.

From then on, he connected with people all along the way for twelve years. We can remember, with immense gratitude, all the ways he expressed this ‘connectedness’. His first substantial message, in 2013, was called, The Joy of the Gospel. From a full heart, he shared with us his joy at the good news Jesus brought us through his life, death and resurrection.  There is much to reflect on in its 288 paragraphs but one that is memorable is #223 where he writes, ‘giving priority to time means being concerned about initiating processes rather than possessing spaces.’ In other words, we often desire to possess - a farm, a qualification, even a constitution or a ‘final’ report. But we can be less concerned about the process of achieving our goal. Francis urges us to get the process right no matter how long it takes. That is messier and less glamorous. The Vatican Council called for synodality in the modern Church. A noble ideal. But the council did not go into how this was to be done. Francis did. And he knew he would not live to see the results. But he was content to set the process in motion.

Two years later, in 2015, Francis published Laudato Si on care of the earth, our common home. ‘Progress in technology is not the same as the progress of humanity’ (#113). We cannot squeeze riches from the earth with no thought for the future. We have to make choices to preserve the earth for our children and grandchildren. Our crisis is not a technical one but a moral one. 

Then, in 2016, Francis issued the third of his four great letters. This one, on The Joy of Love ran to 325 paragraphs. (He always wrote comprehensively and at length but one does not have to read him all at once like a book. Each section is food for reflection and prayer). Here his emphasis is on encouraging families, marriages and fidelity in relationships. He writes of the vice of ‘wanting it all now’ (#275). Again we see his call to see life as a process, not a possession. In this letter he caused a furore among some Catholics for insisting on the primacy of compassion over law.

‘Life, for all its confrontations, is the art of encounter’, he wrote in his fourth letter, Fratelli Tutti, on Fraternity and Social Friendship, in 2020, quoting an Argentinian writer, ‘no one is useless and no one is expendable’, (# 215). Francis makes a plea to us to go beyond individual security and isolation. It is as if one says, ‘I am alright. As long as I have what I want, the rest of the world is none of my business.’ But we are all part of one another. One global community on one planet.

There were countless other occasions when Francis shared his message. He wanted us to ‘open our eyes’ (Luke 24:31) as the disciples did at Easter, and see the call to reach out to others - especially the poor, the marginalised, the migrants - in love and compassion. Everybody is important. Everyone has something to contribute.

I hope we do not just remember his message and celebrate his life. I hope we can also engage in processes – personal and global - that will move our world closer to the plan God wants for his people.

David Harold Barry

 

Wednesday, 9 April 2025

HOLY WEEK

 

HOLY WEEK

As we recall the events of Holy Week, we may feel overwhelmed by the drama of what happened. There is the ephemeral enthusiasm of Palm Sunday and then, quickly, we arrive at the supper room, the garden, the Sanhedrin, the court yard, Pilate’s judgement seat (the Praetorium) and the hill of Calvary. We can linger on each event and then try to take in the whole.   

There are countless ways of doing this. One could be to retrace our steps to last Sunday when Jesus was confronted with a woman whom the Jewish elders wanted to stone. He saved her from the stoning and also forgave her. Then we move to the Acts of the Apostles where Stephen is stoned and there is no one to help him, least of all Saul of Tarsus.

The message of the two incidents strikes us. In Jesus’ action in saving the woman, he takes on himself the cost of her sin. He could not just wave away her sin, anymore than he can ours. Sin has consequences and they have to be addressed. That is what Jesus does in his Passion. He takes the consequences on himself.

What the Stephen incident tells us is that – if we are with Jesus through our baptism – we too have to ‘take up our cross and follow him’. That is what Stephen, dramatically, did. He offered his life for others and Luke tells us he used the words of Jesus, ‘Father, forgive them; they do not know what they are doing.’ He too took the consequences of sin on himself. And so do we.

-o0o-

These weekly reflections have now reached one thousand! It is time to call a halt. I set out twenty years ago to respond to an invitation from Wilf Mbanga to write a weekly column, ‘on anything I liked’, in The Zimbabwean. I am very grateful to Wilf, and his wife Trish, for this opportunity.

At one point, a selection of the articles appeared and I introduced it with a quotation from E. M. Forster, ‘Only connect the prose and the passion, and both will be exalted...’  Then I went on, ‘it was normal to have no idea what I would write. In time, I began to browse the Sunday scripture – not for ideas – but for buried roots. The gospel is not ‘out there’ for us to harness and tame. It is within all things waiting to emerge, like sculpture from rough stone.’

13 April 2025        Palm Sunday        Is 50:4-7     Ph 2:6-11     Lk 22:14- 23:56

 

 

Thursday, 3 April 2025

MAKING A WAY THROUGH THE SEA

 

MAKING A WAY THROUGH THE SEA

The sea was seen in ancient times as a hostile place. The Book of Revelations tells us a sign of the ‘new heaven and new earth’ will be that ‘there will be no more sea’ (21:1). But we have not got there yet and now we have to contend with the ‘sea’ of hostile forces – not just in eye-catching Gaza, Sudan and Myanmar – but in our own yard. The events – or non-events – of the 31st March in Zimbabwe are yet one more reminder of the surrounding ‘sea’.

Yet, this week, the readings kick off with a word from Isaiah, ‘the Lord made a way through the sea.’ This reference to the Israelites crossing the Red Sea is constantly evoked to explain baptism. Passing through water – people are still sometimes baptised by ‘total immersion’ – is a sign of both entering a new community and being liberated from the sin that ‘clings so closely’ (Heb. 12:1).

Carl Jung, the psychiatrist, writing in the 1960s at the end of his life, says, ‘The world into which we are born is brutal and cruel, and at the same time of divine beauty. Which element we think outweighs the other, whether meaninglessness or meaning, is a matter of temperament. If meaninglessness were absolutely predominant, the meaningfulness of life would vanish to an increasing degree ... But that is – or seems to me – not the case. ... I cherish the anxious hope that meaning will preponderate and win the battle.’

That is our hope too. Lent is a time of hope. And Pope Francis has declared this year a Holy Year of Hope. As we approach the climax of this season in Holy Week, we are invited to see the opposites at work. On the one hand the world does seem at times to have no meaning but just be an endlessly ‘brutal and cruel.’ Yet, on the other, our baptism gives us hope that in the adverse experiences of our lives, there is meaning.

The woman ‘caught in adultery’ must have lost hope as they gathered their stones to throw at her. Yet her life was given back to her as a pure unexpected gift. She was given a way through the sea.

Our baptism is the sign of our entry into a pilot community which, it if lives up to its mission, gives a light to the world. In the oppressive environment of meaninglessness which at times seems to overwhelm us, we can be the salt of the earth.

6 April 2025          Lent 5C       Is 43:16-21     Phil 3:8-24        Jn 8:1-11