Reflection – Dr Nathan Leber
Evangelion
“I will prove to you that I have faith by showing you my good deeds – now you prove to me that you have faith without any good deeds to show” (James 2:18).
Having been ignited by the flame of faith, what do we do? Often, we hide it, embarrassed or even fearful of what people might say if we seem ‘too Catholic’. We Catholics are notoriously cautious about the mission of evangelisation. I think we have visions of the charismatic TV evangelists and the fervour in their presentations – it can seem all too much and insincere. Or we think of the missionaries in the most remote regions of the world who seek conversion no matter the cost or suffering.
The facts are far less sensational. The Classical Greek word ‘evangelion’ meant ‘the reward of good tidings’, coming from ‘eu-’ (well) and ‘-angellein’ (to announce). The latter is, of course, the origin of the word ‘angel’, those divine messengers who announced God’s plan to the world. Therefore, evangelisation is not sinister or disingenuous at all, but rather the proclamation of the Good News.
Evangelisation comes in many forms, but when we hide our faith, particularly when it is hard-fought and an essential element of who we are, who do we benefit? The reading from Isaiah reminds us of Jesus’ Parable of the Sheep and Goats (Matt. 25). It reminds us that we have an obligation to serve those in need, for it is there that our lights “shine like the dawn.” This light is not to be hidden but brought out for all to see. When we call out to others in their time of need and say, “I am here”, so too can we expect our God to be there when we need Him.
When you consider it, the message is radical. When I tally up my time on earth it is not the sum of all my accomplishments that are important, but only those that benefitted others. It is only those times when I brought my interior light into view. After all, what point is there to faith and belief in God if we guard and keep it safe? To paraphrase the Calvinist theologian William Shedd – ships are safe in harbours, but this is not why we build ships. Faith and belief are not meant to be safe. They are meant to be experienced, to be shared, to be challenged, to challenge us and, at times, bring us to despair. We will never know the beauty of the dawn without the bleakness of the night. We will never know the satisfaction and joy of completion, without the toil and labour that precedes it. Whoever you are meant to be – whether you are salt or lamps or cities – it has no meaning or purpose unless it is shared for the benefit of all. Light is a reality even though it is intangible…and salt, whilst it is physical, is only understood properly in the tasting. In other words, the experience contains far more meaning than the definition or substance alone.
Faith is like this – only by tasting and seeing that it is good can I ever understand its worth…and who wouldn’t want to share that with others no matter the cost. One of my favourite quotes comes from Pope Francis’ Evangelii Gaudium (‘The Joy of the Gospel’) – “I prefer a Church which is bruised, hurting and dirty because it has been out on the streets, rather than a Church which is unhealthy from being confined and from clinging to its own security.” I think we can all use a little dirt on our faces!
Dr Nathan Leber