The value of imperfect uniqueness

[Lk 15:3-7 (1-10)]

Why does Jesus speak of joy in reference to the one lost sheep?

The Tao Te Ching (x) says: 'Preserve the One by dwelling in the two souls: are you capable of not letting them separate?'.

Even on the spiritual path, Jesus is careful not to propose a dictated or planned universalism, as if his were an ideal model, 'with the aim of homogenising' (Fratelli Tutti n.100).

The type of communion that the Lord proposes to us does not aim at "a one-dimensional uniformity that seeks to eliminate all differences and traditions in a superficial search for unity."

For "the future is not 'monochromatic', but if we have the courage, we can look at it in the variety and diversity of the contributions that each person can make. How much our human family needs to learn to live together in harmony and peace without all being the same!" (from an Address to young people in Tokyo, November 2019).

Although the piety and hope of the representatives of official religiosity were based on a structure of human, ethnic and cultural securities and a vision of the Mystery consolidated by a great tradition, Jesus shatters all predictability.

In the Son, God is revealed no longer as exclusive property, but as the Power of Love that forgives the marginalised and lost: he saves and creates, liberating. And through his disciples, he reveals his Face that restores, breaks down the usual barriers, and calls the poor multitudes.

It seems like an impossible utopia to achieve in reality (today, with the global health crisis), but it is the meaning of the passing of the baton to the Church, called to be an incessant spur towards the Infinite and a leaven for an alternative world, for integral human development:

"Let us dream as one humanity, as travellers made of the same human flesh, as children of this same earth that hosts us all, each with the richness of his or her faith or convictions, each with his or her own voice, all brothers and sisters!" (FT n.8).

Through an absurd question (formulated rhetorically), Jesus wants to awaken the conscience of the 'righteous': there is a counterpart to us that supposes itself to be very dangerous because it leads to exclusion and abandonment.

Instead, inexhaustible Love seeks. And it finds the imperfect and restless.

The swamp of stagnant energy that is generated by accentuating boundaries does not allow anyone to grow: it blocks people in their usual positions and leaves them to fend for themselves or get lost. This is self-interested indifference, which impoverishes everyone.

All this caused creative virtues to fall into despair.

And it caused those outside the circle of the elect to fall - those who were placed above them but had nothing superior. In fact, Luke describes them as completely incapable of rejoicing in the progress of others.

Calculating, reciting and conformist, the leaders (fundamentalist or sophisticated) are ignorant of reality and use religion as a weapon.

Instead, God is the antithesis of sterile pretenders - or disembodied thinking - and seeks those who wander unsteadily, easily become disoriented, and lose their way. 

Sinners yet true, and therefore more open to genuine love. This is why the Father seeks out the inadequate.

Such clear and spontaneous people, even if weak, hide their best qualities and vocational richness behind their seemingly detestable sides. Perhaps they themselves do not appreciate them.

This is the principle of Redemption that amazes us and makes our often distracted paths interesting, guided by intuition, as if by 'trial and error' - but in Faith, generating self-esteem, trust, fulfilment and joy.

The commitment of the purifier and the impetus of the reformer are 'professions' that appear to be opposed, but they are easy... and typical of those who think that the things to be contested and changed are always outside themselves.

For example, in mechanisms, general rules, legal structures, worldviews, formal (or theatrical) aspects, rather than in the craftsmanship of concrete goods; and so on.

These seem like excuses for not looking within oneself and getting involved, for not encountering one's own deepest states in all aspects and not just in guidelines. And for recovering or cheering up individuals who are genuinely lost, sad, in all their dark and difficult aspects.

But God is the antithesis of the sterilised and the false idealists, and seeks out the inadequate: those who wander and lose their way. Sinners, yet true, and therefore more open to genuine love.

The transparent and spontaneous person - even if weak - hides their best side and vocational richness behind seemingly detestable aspects (perhaps which they themselves do not appreciate).

Let us therefore seek solutions in the mysterious, unpredictable new interpersonal energies that come into play from within things.

Without interfering with ideas of the past or future that we cannot see, or opposing them. Rather, by possessing their soul, their spontaneous medicine.

This is the principle of Salvation that amazes us and makes our paths interesting [often distracted, guided by instinct, as if by 'trial and error'] - ultimately generating self-esteem, credit and joy.

The idea that the Most High is a notary or prince of a court, and that he makes a clear distinction between the righteous and the transgressors, is a caricature.

After all, a saved life is not something we produce ourselves, nor is it our exclusive possession or private property - which turns into duplicity.

It is not a squeamish or cerebral attitude that unites us to Him. The Father does not flatter presumptuous friendships, nor does He have external interests.

He rejoices with everyone, and it is need that draws him to us. So let us not be afraid to let ourselves be found and brought back (v. 5) ... to his house, which is our home.

If there is a loss, there will be a finding, and this is no loss to anyone - except to the envious enemies of freedom (v. 2).

For the Eternal One does not delight in marginalisation, nor does he intend to extinguish the smouldering wick.

Jesus does not come to point the finger at bad moments, but to recover, drawing on intimate involvement. An invincible force of fidelity.

This is the style of a Church with a Sacred Heart, lovable, elevated and blessed.

[What attracts people to participate and express themselves is feeling understood, restored to full dignity - not condemned].

Carlo Carretto said: 'It is by feeling loved, not criticised, that man begins his journey of transformation'.

As the encyclical Fratelli Tutti emphasises once again:

Jesus - our Motor and Motive - 'had an open heart, which made the dramas of others his own' (n. 84).

And it adds, as an example of our great Tradition:

'People can develop certain attitudes that they present as moral values: fortitude, sobriety, hard work and other virtues. But in order to orient their actions properly [...] we must also consider to what extent they bring about a dynamic of openness and unity [...] Otherwise, we will have only appearances'.

"St Bonaventure explained that the other virtues, without charity, do not strictly fulfil the commandments as God intends them" (n.91).

In sects or groups of unilateral inspiration, through pedantic marginalisation, human and spiritual riches are deposited in a secluded place, where they age and deteriorate.

In assemblies of children, however, they are shared: they grow and communicate; multiplying, they are renewed, with universal benefit.

To internalise and live the message:

What attracts you to the Church? When you are with the top students, do you feel judged or adequate?

Do you feel the Love that saves, even if you remain uncertain?

A heart that does not give up

Celebrating the Jubilee of Priests on the Solemnity of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, we are called to focus on the heart, that is, on interiority, on the strongest roots of life, on the core of our affections, in a word, on the centre of the person. And today we turn our gaze to two hearts: the Heart of the Good Shepherd and our hearts as shepherds.

The Heart of the Good Shepherd is not only the Heart that has mercy on us, but it is mercy itself. There the love of the Father shines forth; there I feel secure that I am accepted and understood as I am; there, with all my limitations and sins, I taste the certainty of being chosen and loved. Looking at that Heart, I renew my first love: the memory of when the Lord touched my soul and called me to follow him, the joy of having cast the nets of life on his Word (cf. Lk 5:5).

The Heart of the Good Shepherd tells us that his love has no limits, never tires and never gives up. There we see his continuous self-giving, without limits; there we find the source of faithful and gentle love, which leaves us free and makes us free; there we rediscover each time that Jesus loves us “to the end” (Jn 13:1) — he does not stop before, until the end — without ever imposing himself.

The Heart of the Good Shepherd is drawn towards us, “polarised” especially towards those who are furthest away; there the needle of his compass points stubbornly, there he reveals a particular weakness of love, because he wants to reach everyone and lose no one.

Before the Heart of Jesus, the fundamental question of our priestly life arises: where is my heart directed? This is a question that we priests must ask ourselves many times, every day, every week: where is my heart directed? The ministry is often full of many initiatives that expose it on many fronts: from catechesis to liturgy, charity, pastoral and even administrative commitments. Amidst so many activities, the question remains: where is my heart fixed? I am reminded of that beautiful prayer from the Liturgy: "Ubi vera sunt gaudia..." Where is it pointing, what is the treasure it seeks? Because, Jesus says, "where your treasure is, there also will your heart be" (Mt 6:21). There are weaknesses in all of us, even sins. But let us go deeper, to the root: where is the root of our weaknesses, of our sins, that is, where is that "treasure" that distances us from the Lord?

There are two irreplaceable treasures in the Heart of Jesus: the Father and us. His days were spent between prayer to the Father and meeting people. Not distance, but encounter. Even the heart of Christ's shepherd knows only two directions: the Lord and the people. The heart of the priest is a heart pierced by the love of the Lord; for this reason, he no longer looks at himself – he should not look at himself – but is turned towards God and his brothers and sisters. It is no longer a 'dancing heart', which allows itself to be attracted by the suggestion of the moment or which goes here and there in search of approval and small satisfactions. Instead, it is a heart firm in the Lord, captivated by the Holy Spirit, open and available to his brothers and sisters. And there he resolves his sins.

To help our hearts burn with the charity of Jesus the Good Shepherd, we can train ourselves to do three things that today's readings suggest: seek, include and rejoice.

Seek. The prophet Ezekiel reminded us that God himself seeks his sheep (34:11, 16). He, says the Gospel, 'goes in search of the lost' (Lk 15:4), without being frightened by risks; without hesitation, he ventures outside the pastures and outside working hours. And he does not charge overtime. He does not put off the search, he does not think, “I have already done my duty today, and if necessary I will take care of it tomorrow”, but he sets to work immediately; his heart is restless until he finds that one lost sheep. Once he has found it, he forgets his fatigue and carries it on his shoulders, full of joy. Sometimes he has to go out to look for it, to talk, to persuade; other times he has to remain before the tabernacle, wrestling with the Lord for that sheep.

This is the heart he seeks: a heart that does not privatise time and space. Woe to shepherds who privatise their ministry! He is not jealous of his legitimate tranquillity - legitimate, I say, not even that - and never demands not to be disturbed. The shepherd according to God's heart does not defend his own comforts, is not concerned with protecting his own good name, but will be slandered, like Jesus. Without fear of criticism, he is willing to take risks in order to imitate his Lord. "Blessed are you when they insult you, persecute you..." (Mt 5:11).

The shepherd according to Jesus has a heart that is free to leave his possessions behind; he does not live by accounting for what he has and the hours he has served. He is not an accountant of the spirit, but a good Samaritan in search of those in need. He is a shepherd, not an inspector of the flock, and he devotes himself to his mission not fifty or sixty per cent, but with his whole self. By going in search, he finds, and he finds because he takes risks. If the shepherd does not take risks, he does not find. He does not stop after disappointments and does not give up in the face of hardship; he is in fact stubborn in doing good, anointed with divine stubbornness so that no one may be lost. For this reason, he not only keeps the doors open, but goes out in search of those who no longer want to enter. And like every good Christian, and as an example for every Christian, he is always going out of himself. The epicentre of his heart is outside himself: he is decentralised from himself, centred only on Jesus. He is not attracted by his own self, but by the You of God and the us of men.

Second word: include. Christ loves and knows his sheep, he gives his life for them and none of them are strangers to him (cf. Jn 10:11-14). His flock is his family and his life. He is not a leader feared by his sheep, but the Shepherd who walks with them and calls them by name (cf. Jn 10:3-4). And he desires to gather the sheep that do not yet dwell with him (cf. Jn 10:16).

So too is the priest of Christ: he is anointed for the people, not to pursue his own plans, but to be close to the real people whom God, through the Church, has entrusted to him. No one is excluded from his heart, from his prayer and from his smile. With a loving gaze and a father's heart, he welcomes, includes and, when he must correct, it is always to bring closer; he despises no one, but is ready to get his hands dirty for everyone. The Good Shepherd does not wear gloves. As a minister of communion who celebrates and lives, he does not expect greetings and compliments from others, but is the first to offer his hand, rejecting gossip, judgement and poison. He listens patiently to problems and accompanies people on their journey, bestowing divine forgiveness with generous compassion. He does not scold those who leave or lose their way, but is always ready to welcome them back and settle disputes. He is a man who knows how to include others.

Rejoice. God is 'full of joy' (Lk 15:5): his joy comes from forgiveness, from the life that rises again, from the son who breathes the air of home once more. The joy of Jesus the Good Shepherd is not a joy for himself, but a joy for others and with others, the true joy of love. This is also the joy of the priest. He is transformed by the mercy he freely gives. In prayer, he discovers God’s consolation and experiences that nothing is stronger than his love. For this reason, he is serene within himself and happy to be a channel of mercy, to bring people closer to the Heart of God. Sadness is not normal for him, but only temporary; harshness is foreign to him, because he is a shepherd according to the meek Heart of God.

Dear priests, in the Eucharistic celebration we rediscover our identity as shepherds every day. Each time we can truly make his words our own: 'This is my body, which is given for you'. This is the meaning of our life; these are the words with which, in a certain way, we can renew daily the promises of our Ordination. I thank you for your 'yes', and for the many hidden 'yeses' of every day, which only the Lord knows. I thank you for your 'yes' to giving your lives united with Jesus: here lies the pure source of our joy.

(Pope Francis, homily, 3 June 2016)