OCTOBER 2006

ISSUE 8 - ISSN 1448- 6326

SELLING EVERYTHING FOR THE SAKE OF THE KINGDOM CARDINAL CORMAC MURPHY-O'CONNOR Edited version of a lecture given in Melbourne,  30th August 2006

Abstract

The Cardinal’s lecture discusses the issue of what it is like to be a young person living in the post-modern world. He suggests that the desolation of post-modernity is leading people back to God.

Recently,  as a pastor I’ve been looking afresh at the post-modern world and in particular at what is it like to be a young person living as part of this society.  The new millennium has been  high season for prophets, poets, cults, doom-merchants and futurologists of all kinds.  Recently I read somewhere that “everything is possible but nothing is certain”.  Even Christian authors are talking about the present time as one of transition, a turning point, a time of crisis.

In the post-modern era almost everything is mixed together and the once relatively clear outlines of society have become confused.  The institutions which only a generation ago inspired almost unquestioning trust are now, perhaps properly, the subject of scrutiny and suspicion.  Look at any contemporary institution and you will see this is so, from Royalty to the Church.  Even Parliamentary democracy which had been regarded as a serious, progressive model for the expression of political views and the making of laws is now seen as tainted by corruption, self-interest and the politics of money.

This is also a world increasingly dominated by choice, personal preference and immediacy.  Even religion is done à la carte in a selective and individualistic way.  A bit of Buddhism, a bit of new age, a chapter from the New Testament and a course in oriental meditation. 

Old certainties are questioned and frequently undermined by strident apologists of the post-modern.  Pilate unconsciously revealed himself to be the first post-modern thinker with the famous “Truth, what is truth?”  Truth, in this post-modern milieu, is no longer received, need not necessarily be proved objectively because there is no such thing as objective.  I remember my predecessor, Cardinal Hume, having a conversation with a young person and the Cardinal expressed his traditional view about aspects of morality and the young person said “Well that’s your view, isn’t it?”  That is the response of a post-modern young person. 

However, I do not regard the post-modern period as a totally negative one. For many young people in the western world life can be pretty good.  The accident of birth is very slowly becoming less of a determining factor when it comes to accessing the highest levels of education or of the employment market.  The breakdown of the old consensus means that for those so inclined these can be very exciting times intellectually.  For those with leisure and money, new ways to stretch your horizons are being invented all the time.  . 

But the picture and the prospects are not uniformly positive for young people. There is an increasing divide between the rich and the poor.  Greater affluence has a tendency to bring in its wake a generalised aspiration for more and better.  Fuelled by a pervasive “you can have it if you want it” advertising culture, aimed deliberately at the very youngest consumers, and fed by the natural urge to want more than you have and at least as much as him or her.  Jealousy or violence or robbery are sometimes a means to short circuit the poverty gap and these are on the increase. 

It is also true that in our post-modern world, we have witnessed the very serious breakdown in the fundamental building blocks of our society.  In Britain, around 45 percent of today’s marriages end in divorce.  This means that a quarter of our children are raised by single parents or unmarried couples, or even by same-sex couples through adoption.   

All of this also leads to what I would call the individualisation of society.  This means that the individual has a more open attitude towards traditional ties, like family, religion, and feels obliged, for it is not always a free choice, to move house or change lifestyle, conditioned by labour market and other social processes.  The individual does not see himself only as subject to outside pressures but, thanks to the modern experience of freedom, and a history of freedom, recognises that he can write his own biography, live his own lifestyle, free from outside influences. 

The greatest threat that arises from individualism is that ultimately it threatens social cohesion, the family and the community.  And ultimately it threatens one of the most vital and perhaps fragile support systems we humans have ever devised – namely the basic community.  At its best, such a community is the place of most profound human flourishing.  It inspired Christians from St Benedict to Jean Vanier, Frère Roger, Mother Teresa, Francis of Assisi and countless others. 

Our sense of communion, of community, is the most fundamental part of our being human.  I think Sartre, who said “Hell is other people”, was fundamentally wrong.  To be human means to be in relationship and so the concentration on the individual in contemporary society has brought in its wake greater personal isolation and loneliness.  One need only look at the high incidence of suicide among young adult men.

If I have in any way accurately read the text of our times, I believe that today many young people are themselves part of a community which is searching, and that search is a challenge to the whole Church to journey with them in their seeking.  Young people are engaged in their search in three ways.  Firstly, they are seeking God, but don’t always know where to go. 

Secondly, they are seeking to Belong, they are seeking Community. Just a few weeks ago I was in Lourdes and went to visit a community called The Cenacolo.   It was an extraordinary moving experience.   It was a house of forty men, all of whom had been drug addicts.   Many of them had been on drugs for years and had found that all efforts to get them off addiction had come to nothing.   But through the inspiration of a Sister Elvira, fifty of these homes had been founded.  They were communities which relied totally on providence.   There was a regular life of prayer and of work.  Each, through the prayer, through the community, through their service to each other, had found not only that they were able to overcome their addiction but also had found a peace and meaning to their lives. 

In that community was a glimpse of the Kingdom of God, which is not one without effort and difficulty.  It is like the pearl of great price which, having been found, brings great joy.  I remember one of them saying to me, “We are taught to have a mind to the person beside us in whatever we are doing, whether it is making a meal, or painting a wall, or working in the field.  It moves us beyond our self to look at the other.”  And I think that is something of what young people crave.  They need to know that they are loved, that someone is looking out for them.  In community they can discover a place of healing, of forgiveness, and the opportunity of a fresh start. 

Thirdly, I believe, that our young people are seeking the Poor, and how we may reach out to those in most need.  This is something the young know instinctively.  They are scandalised by any show of religion which does not have an eye to the most needy.  I find today that young people are very generous, very willing to reach out to those who are on the margins: the poor, the needy.   The words of St. Matthew still ring true:  “I was hungry and you gave me to eat.  I was thirsty and you gave me to drink.  I was a stranger and you made me welcome, naked and you clothed me, sick and you visited me, in prison and you came to see me.”   “When did we see you hungry and feed you, thirsty and give you drink; naked and clothed you, sick or in prison and go to see you?”   Jesus said, “In as much as you did it to the least of my brothers and sisters, you did it to me”.

I could give many other examples of the different forms of service to others, but it seems to me that each person, or small community, must find their own way of seeking out the way that they want to live out more closely that aspect of the Kingdom which is to reach out to the poor.   Prayer, community, service to others – here are the age-old means by which all of us, but especially young people, seek and find the Kingdom of God here on earth.

The Canadian author, Douglas Coupland, in his novel Life After God attempts to explore the tension and yet the richness at the heart of post-modern society:

Now – here is my secret; I tell it to you with an openness of heart that I doubt I shall ever achieve again, so I pray that you are in a quiet room as you hear these words.  My secret is that I need God – that I am sick and can no longer make it alone.  I need God to help me give, because I no longer seem to be capable of giving; to help me to be kind as I no longer seem capable of kindness; to help me love as I seem beyond being able to love.

His is a still, small voice speaking out at the desolation of many people in our society.  It is as though people, especially many young people, are dressed up complete with a thousand and one possibilities but nowhere to go.  It is this very desolation which is the beginning of our reaching out to God.  And I suspect that our post-modern society is leading us back to God.

Concerning the opening of the Asia-Pacific Institute for Inter-religious dialogue, the Cardinal included the following comments:

In our present global village it is also important to stress the importance of belonging to one human family.  I am conscious of the vitally healing power of dialogue both within community and across different religious traditions to highlight this.  I want to stress here the importance of dialogue between the three major monotheistic faiths – Judaism, Christianity and Islam.  The foundation of our dialogue is our common ancestry in a single God, and the rejection by Abraham of idols. This opens the possibility – indeed the obligation – of a bond between human beings whatever their beliefs. I was very glad to be present at the meeting of world’s religious leaders last year in Lyon, which has met each year since that first meeting in Assisi in 1986. The meetings have developed what many now call a ”spiritual humanism of peace” which stresses that we are all divinely-created human beings, sons and daughters of a common Father. We need to keep returning to this common ancestry in the same father. More religion of the true sort means human beings becoming closer to God, and therefore to each other.

British Christians have a long-standing and fruitful dialogue with Judaism.  In light of present global tensions I want to mention, in particular here, the place of Christian-Muslim dialogue which I think is so important in the present climate in which we exist.  Perhaps the most remarkable event in the modern history of Catholic-Muslim relations was when John Paul II visited Morocco after an invitation from King Hassan II in 1985. The Pope addressed a crowd of some 60,000 young Muslims in a sports stadium - a truly remarkable moment. “We believe in the same God,” Pope John Paul II told them, “the one God, the living God, the God who creates the world and brings the world to perfection.”

The challenge in our theological dialogue is to be able to conduct this dialogue without, of course, diminishing what are, in our faiths, rather exclusive claims. We can stress what we hold in common as children of Abraham, and continue to remind ourselves of this.  Nevertheless, the delicate task of our contemporary societies is to forge this dialogue and cooperation, to overcome ignorance and to learn mutual respect.   All inter-religious co-operation has as its important focus the challenge of upholding the principle of religious freedom. If we do not enjoy the freedom to practise our religion openly and without fear, then we cannot be honest; a defensive mentality is created, in which people treat their different religions as clubs – the only places where they can relax and be themselves. Dialogue assumes the freedom to witness. It is essential that Muslims can freely worship in Melbourne and Sydney, just as it is essential that Christians can freely worship in Riyadh or Kabul.

This is a vital principle of sacred hospitality, and it is vital for the relationship between Christians and Muslims. Where Christians are being denied their rights, or are subject to sharia law, that is not a matter on which Muslims in Britain or in Australias should remain silent. Where religious rights of minorities are disrespected in the name of Islam, the face of Islam is tarnished elsewhere in the world.

Sacred hospitality demands that we speak up for each other. And it impels our communities to take common action together, especially in response to social issues or in response to disasters and emergencies. One of my happier moments this past year was during a New Year’s visit to Sri Lanka.  I went to commemorate the anniversary of the tsunami of Boxing Day 2004 in the company of the Catholic aid agency CAFOD, which has been rebuilding houses and communities there. I was on the east coast of the island, where there is a patchwork of villages of different beliefs: some Hindu, some Muslim, some Christian.  It was a visit of great joy as well as witnessing great suffering.  In one Hindu village they were not too sure how to explain what a Cardinal was and introduced me to the village as, “A member of the Roman Catholic High Command”!  But what struck me very forcibly was the practical ‘dialogue of life’ between the different faiths, as they tried to rebuild their lives.  In one Muslim village the leader told me that “many came and went, promising things. But only the Catholics stayed, and built us new houses.” The Catholic aid workers who had helped those villagers, most of whom were young adults, did not engage in theological dialogue.  They were not there as missionaries, to try to persuade anyone to convert. But by their actions, and by the villagers’ welcome of them and of me, there was a moving example of the mutual solidarity – and dare I say it, love – which stirred in me the desire to see such love characterize Catholic-Muslim relations in the world.

Author:

In 2006 Cardinal Cormac Murphy-O'Connor delivered three public lectures in Australia sponsored by the Aquinas Academy Sydney and as guest of the Archdioceses of Sydney, Melbourne and Brisbane. The visit was his first to Australia in his official capacity as Cardinal and president of the Bishops’ Conference of England and Wales. This is an authorized, edited version of the particular lecture was given at the Australian Catholic University in Melbourne following meetings with Catholic agencies and a symposium on evangelization.
Full texts of all three lectures are available through the Aquinas Academy : http://www.aquinas-academy.com/

© Copyright is retained by the author