Let Us Be Saints!: Finding Eugene’s Spirit in Gaudete et Exsultate

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Let Us Be Saints!: Finding Eugene’s Spirit in Gaudete et Exsultate

Years ago at my parish, it was the pastor’s practice to open every parish meeting with a personal witnessing, inviting a parishioner to share a short testimony about his or her faith journey.  At one particular meeting, he introduced the speaker, a member of the parish staff. “She is, he said, “a faith-filled woman, humble and sincere in her faith, a woman who knows she is a sinner.”  The woman, taking her place at the podium, smiled a gentle, deprecating smile and with a side-long glance at the pastor, remarked, “It’s true, I do know I am a sinner but I also know that I am a saint, because I know my dependency on God.”  She then went on to give an inspiring story of her life as a wife, mother and disciple.

Pope Francis would approve, and so would Eugene de Mazenod: even as we acknowledge our sinfulness, we know the greater truth, our deepest vocation is to be saints. Francis’ recent document, Gaudete et Exsultate: An Apostolic Exhortation to Holiness in Today’s World [GE], is a stirring reminder of this, and it is an idea close to de Mazenod’s heart. We all know of Eugene’s personal longing for sanctity, his earnest insistence that all the Oblates be saints, and his awareness that it is a calling meant for everyone. The aim of Oblate preaching, after all, is first to awaken people to their humanity, second to their identity in Christ and finally to their vocation to sainthood.

Furthermore, Eugene recognizes with Francis that people find their own pathway to holiness. “We are all called to be witnesses but there are many actual ways of bearing witness,” Francis writes [GE 11],  and he appreciates holiness in all walks of life: I like to contemplate the holiness present in the patience of God’s people: parents who raise their children with immense love, men and women who work hard to support their families, the sick, the elderly, religious who never lose their smile” [GE 7].

Eugene admits the same truth: “We must become saints in whatever calling we may be,. . . a  married woman is called to holiness just as an unmarried lady or a religious,” [Letter to Mrs. Boisgelin,  1809]. We also think of Eugene bustling through the streets and slums of Marseille, ministering to the poor, the elderly and the sick, enlisting the help of Babette and the sodality of fishwives, and being edified by what he encounters, the simple, humble faith of the people.  

Beyond these obvious points though, I am struck as I read Gaudete et Exsultate at how much it reflects Eugene’s charism. It’s a rich document, offering, among other things, the Scriptural basis for the call to holiness; several subtle enemies of holiness that plague the church today; the Beatitudes and Matthew 25 as road maps for holy living; and various hallmarks of holiness. The entire document is worthy of study but as Oblates and Associates, two sections in particular might resonate with us: the one on passion and boldness in evangelizing and the one on community. Both, in addition to offering a profound spirituality, present some challenges that Oblates and Associates can take to heart.

Francis identifies boldness and passion as signs of holiness [GE 129-139] and then points out that this passion for the gospel must push us always outward to where humanity is most wounded [GE 134], both very Oblate sentiments. “God became a fringe,” Francis reminds us, “and if we go to the fringes, God is there in the wounded flesh and spirits of our brothers and sisters, in their troubles and profound desolation” [GE 135]. Going to the fringes is Oblates do!

Herein lies the challenge, however. In articles 132ff. Francis warns us of the temptation we have to stay in safe places, citing a lack of fervor, fear, or excessive caution as keeping us caught hiding in our own little worlds. He offers the well-known image of Jesus standing at the door of our hearts and knocking to be let in. Strikingly, Francis suggests we might need to reverse the image: what would it be like if we saw Jesus, already inside us, asking to be let out from our stale self-centredness [GE 136]?

It’s an image that would resonate with Eugene, who, in rejecting ‘smouldering wicks,’ only wants the passionate and fervent. Undoubtedly Francis and Eugene agree that, “The Church, more than bureaucrats and functionaries needs passionate missionaries, enthusiastic about sharing true life” [GE 138].  We are challenged to ask for, “the grace not to hesitate when Spirit asks us to take a step forward” [GE 139].

Being in community is also named as a sign of holiness: “Growth in holiness is a journey in community, side by side with others,” we read in GE 141. It’s a non-negotiable for Oblates and articles 140-146 offer a challenging reflection on what being in community looks like. It’s not always [or even most often] mystical experiences: it’s the small, seemingly unimportant details of life where holiness is forged [GE 143]. In a beautiful passage, Francis reminds us:

“Let us not forget that Jesus asked his disciples to pay attention to details. The little detail that wine was running out at a party. The little detail that one sheep was missing. The little detail of noticing the widow who offered her two small coins. The little detail of having spare oil for the lamps, should the bridegroom delay. The little detail of asking the disciples how many loaves of bread they had. The little detail of having a fire burning and a fish cooking as he waited for the disciples at daybreak” [GE 144].

It’s in the details: the never-ending, oft-repeated chores; the small gestures of concern; the solicitous attention to another’s presence. We ask ourselves: how are we doing with that? We might think we have more important things to do; ministry and mission claim our energies and time. But as Eugene and Francis knew, that’s not how love grows and it’s not how our holiness comes to us. “A community that cherishes the little details of love, whose members care for one another and create an open and evangelizing environment, is a place where the risen Lord is present, sanctifying it in accordance with the Father’s plan [GE 145].

“We are all called to be holy by living our lives with love and by bearing witness in everything we do, wherever we find ourselves,” [GE 14], Francis writes. We will, inevitably, be imperfect at it, sinner and saint combined. The little girl, told by her Grade three religion teacher to imagine that red represented being bad and green represented being good, was asked, ‘What color would you be?’  The little girl paused a moment and then replied, “I’d be streaky.” So would we all, but at least, formed by the charism and encouraged by Francis, we know where we are headed. Let us be saints!

By Sandra Prather, HOMI