A number of MSC students at their first profession in Cork. Fr Alan Neville
My favourite painting, without doubt, is found in a small church in Rome, just off the Piazza Navona, only a short walk from St. Peter’s. The Call of St. Matthew is tucked away in a corner with two other works by the same painter, Michelangelo Merisi de Caravaggio. It depicts the very moment where Matthew’s life is turned upside down, when he abandons his old life to follow Jesus. When we read the story in the New Testament we can lose the sense of how extraordinary the encounter was. In the painting Matthew and his colleagues, all splendidly dressed, are hard at work, assessing taxes, dividing the profits, and making money. Into this scene walks a barefoot Jesus, along with Peter, looking slightly scruffy and decidedly out of place. With his arm extended, Jesus points at Matthew, who responds with a look of shock and incredulity. Matthew even points to the person next to him, assuming Jesus has made some sort of mistake. Jesus couldn’t possibly be calling him, could he?
This is at the centre of our understanding of being called by God. Isn’t it all too easy to become distracted and to lose our way? So much of our world today is designed to get us to settle for those things which don’t really satisfy. You are meant for more. Before Jesus missions Matthew they share a meal, breaking bread together. Matthew opens his heart to listen to the Word of God. Then he is finally free to let go of whatever was holding him back to follow Christ with an open heart.
Googling Prayer
It’s interesting that as we spend more time at home during this pandemic we can become bored of constant streaming and consuming a never ending supply of social media memes. Like Matthew, we are looking for that deeper encounter, even if we’re not sure what it will look like. Only last week, it was reported that the word ‘prayer’ has been Googled more times than ever before. In our isolation we seek connection and meaning. It’s who we are. There is that restlessness deep within us that can only be satisfied by God. This time is an opportunity for reflection and discernment, when we come face to face with ourselves. It is also a time for us to take action.
When this crisis has passed, we will look back and assess the work of our leaders, our carers, and our Church. Some will point to the closed doors over Easter and comment about the absence of priests, religious, and the parish community. However, we are an Easter people and if history has taught us anything it is that when things appear at their most difficult our Church comes into its own. Earlier this week I was reading the story of Elijah’s encounter with God (1 Kings 19:10-18), not in the strong wind, the violent earthquake, or the raging fire, but in the gentle breeze. Throughout our country we have seen our hospital chaplains working tirelessly alongside our nurses and doctors, caring for the sick and dying. Chaplains have ministered to families as their loved ones have died, accompanying them to the best of their ability. Parishes have reached out to the entire community, but especially the isolated, offering prayers and the possibility of picking up shopping or prescriptions from the local pharmacy. Religious sisters have continued their outreach to people living in direct provision, providing a vital lifeline to those who have fled their countries. Acts of faith are quiet, gentle, and often unnoticed, but are nonetheless remarkable for their power bring hope, understanding, and love.
Where To From Here?
Certainly the cocooning of everyone over seventy has shown the reliance we have on our older sisters, brothers and priests to run our parishes, community services, and outreach work with people on the margins of society. It illustrates our indebtedness to them, but reminds us that we need to be open to raise up men and women as good shepherds. Since the earliest days of the Church, the community has been responsible for encouraging our men and women to be leaders. In a vocations conference last year a panel of religious in formation addressed the group. While they came from a wide variety of backgrounds, the two things they all had in common were a desire to serve God and that not one of them had put themselves forward first as a potential vocation. They did not feel personally worthy or good enough. It was only after some words of encouragement from friends, work colleagues or fellow parishioners that they decided to contact someone to begin the conversation that would change their lives.
As we look now beyond the boarders of Ireland, there is real concern about developing world. Our Missionaries of the Sacred Heart priests, sisters and brothers are working with local communities in almost fifty countries in health clinics, hospitals, schools, and parishes to witness to the love of God in concrete ways. The circumstances have been challenging, but now with COVID-19 the work is even more difficult. So what can we do? First, we can pray. We can pray for all those who serve and care, especially those who put their lives on the lines to help others. Secondly, we can encourage those around us. There has been an immense sense of renewed solidarity both in our communities and globally. Also, if there is someone you see that has the makings of a good brother, sister or priest, you might mention the possibility to them. Finally, we can remember who we are called to be. Like Matthew, we can become distracted or even lost, but the call of God is insistent. Let’s remember that we are all followers of Jesus and renew our commitment to Him at this time. If you feel that God is calling you to a particular role of service in the Church perhaps now is the time to make that phone call or write that email that will change you life forever.
If you would like to talk about a possible vocation to the priesthood or religious life, you can write Fr. Alan at vocations@mscmissions.ie.
Further information is also available on their website www.mscvocations.com