1 January 1992
Paris, France

Mother Elizondo, Father Lloret and my dear Sisters,

One day in the year 1947 a shepherd who lived near the town of Jericho went out to look for some lost sheep. He wandered into a cave in search of his sheep, and there in a cavity he made a remarkable discovery. He found some manuscripts that had lain there untouched for nearly two thousand years. The manuscripts dated back to the first century of the Christian era, among which was almost the complete text of the book of the prophet Isaiah. It was not the first remarkable and historical discovery that shepherds have made in the lands of the Bible. When Moses was out searching for some lost sheep, he noticed a bush that was burning. Out of curiosity he went to see what was happening and found his vocation. "When the Lord saw that he (Moses) had turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, 'Moses, Moses!' And he said, 'Here I am.'" (Ex 3:4). What shall we say of that little group of shepherds who, while watching their sheep one night, were surprised by the singing of a chorus of angels and were given clues as to how they would discover in a cave "a Saviour, who is the Messiah, the Lord." (Lk 2:2). This discovery made by the shepherds of Bethlehem on that night will remain until the end of time humanity's greatest and most astounding discovery, unequaled by any mystery of science uncovered by the men and women of our time or any future time. The child in the cave of Bethlehem was the Word of God "without whom was made nothing that was made." (Jn 1:3).

A few months ago a certain stir was created among scripture scholars when an expert claimed that among the papyri discovered by the shepherds of Jericho was a tiny fragment of the Gospel of St. Mark. He asserted that it dated back to the year 50 A.D., about twenty years after Our Lord's death and resurrection. The tiny fragment in question is but two verses of the Gospel, and even those two verses are hardly complete. The fragment reads: "They did not understand about the loaves, but their hearts were hardened. And when they had crossed over, they came to land at Gennesaret, and moored to the shore. And when...." (Mk 6:52-53).

Reflecting on this tiny phrase from the Gospel of St. Mark, I asked myself if most of the difficulties which I encounter in living my Christian and Vincentian vocation could not be said to have their origin in a failure to "understand about the loaves." When we read the New Testament and come across the word bread, our minds instinctively think of the Eucharist. Can we ever forget the astounding claim of Our Lord, "I am the bread of life; he who comes to me will never hunger," (Jn 6:35) and of His invitation to eat of that bread so that we may have eternal life? Nor could the Christian of St. Paul's day have failed to be impressed by the strong reminder of St. Paul to the Corinthians when he wrote: "Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread." (1 Cor 10:17).

Coming down to our own day, we have in the documents of the Church repeated reminders that "the Eucharist is the source and the summit of all preaching of the Gospel." (Pres. Ord. p5; Evang. Nunt. p29). Our work for the poor is a proclamation to the world that we have understood "concerning the loaves," while our failures in that apostolate and in the living of our vows are an acknowledgement to the world that we have failed "to understand about the loaves."

One of the most memorable occasions in the lives of all of us is the day when we made our first Holy Communion. Everything on that day conspired to impress on our childish minds the awesomeness of the occasion. Indeed, it might very well have been the first time in our lives when we made a profound act of adoration and grasped in a very limited way the meaning of adoration. There followed a second and a third Holy Communion and perhaps we have had already the experience of Holy Communion ten or twenty thousand times. What of adoration in our lives today? Could it be that its importance impinges less upon us? Prayer of intercession often occupies the foreground of our minds, yet the prayer of adoration must be the foundation stone of all our prayer. Without the prayer of adoration there will be a certain shallowness and superficiality about our prayers of intercession, and that superficiality and shallowness will reflect itself in our words, in our interests, in our relationships, in the quality of our work.

Opening ourselves to the experience of profound adoration in the silence of prayer is closely linked with the practical living of that virtue which St. Vincent described as "the basis of all holiness in the Gospels and a bond of the entire spiritual life," humility. (CR II,7). To be humble one must first have had the experience of adoration in prayer that goes beyond any formula of words.

Today in the Church we hear expressed a wide variety of opinions--some informed, some less so--on a range of topics that touch both faith and morals. In religious Communities an enhanced importance is being given to the opinions of individuals, and a collaborative and coresponsible style of government has been encouraged. How does all this affect my understanding and living of humility today? Is it feeding my ego to the point that I am giving an inflated value to my own opinions so that yielding to others becomes a more rare experience in my life?

It has been said that until Christ came philosophers knew nothing of the virtue or value of humility. Could it be that in our age, which is now often described as a post-Christian age, we have lost our appreciation of that virtue which Our Lord asked us to learn from Him, and which St. Vincent considered at once so essential and yet so elusive? It is authentic and deep adoration in prayer that will be the first step on that ladder of humility which leads upward into the heart of God, and outward to the service of others.

The presence of Christ in the Blessed Sacrament can be an effective aid to deepening within ourselves an attitude of attentive adoration. A sensitivity to the presence of Christ in the Blessed Sacrament can be a school of sensitivity. In our relations with others, in our service of the Gospel and of the poor, it is not always easy to recognize the presence of Christ. We need a training in sensitivity to His presence. It is precisely through the presence of Christ in the Eucharist that we can learn to recognize and respond to Him in situations and persons where His presence is not so obvious. The streets may be, to quote St. Vincent's celebrated phrase, the cloister for the Daughter of Charity, but she will still need time in order to retire into the Upper Room where, like Mary of Bethany, she can give herself to attentive adoration of her Lord and her God. To do so is to come to "understand about the loaves."

Each one of us from personal experience can subscribe to St. Augustine's confession: "Our hearts are restless, Lord, until they rest in Thee." In our living of community life, in our service of the poor, in coping with stress, it is easy to lose our poise, and then our hearts become even more restless. That is the moment to halt and attend to that fundamental relationship with our Father in heaven which is one of adoration and of confidence. It is only when our hearts are able to rest in peaceful and self-forgetful adoration before God that we can effectively mediate to others "the goodness and loving kindness of God, our Saviour". (Tit 3:4).

"To understand about the loaves" and to eat of the bread of life is to commit ourselves to be bread for others, and that means allowing ourselves to be devoured by others. It is the invitation of Our Lord to all whom He nourishes with His body and blood, His soul and divinity. "We must be like good bread," wrote Ida Gorres. "Our Lord became bread, we too must become bread for others.... To be bread, to allow ourselves to be eaten by others, devoured, to be wholesome, nourishing, strength-giving, satisfying and furthering growth."

Long before Our Lord gave Himself in the Eucharist, He had been bread for the people. Think of the scenes in the Gospels when the people pressed about Him and when He and His disciples had not even time to eat. He was being devoured by others. Think of the sick He healed and the crowds whom He taught. He was nourishing and helping others to have life and to have it more abundantly. It is St. Luke who observes that "a power came forth from Him and healed them all." (Lk 6:19). The total giving of herself to Christ, to the Community and to the poor is the vocation of a Daughter of Charity. In doing so she becomes bread for others and in living that ideal she will more clearly "understand about the loaves."

We have reached, my dear Sisters, the shore of another year. Each day of it will bring its invitation to us to discover in the caves of our daily lives the Word of God and to "understand about the loaves." To a member of his Community who was unsettled and wavering in his vocation, St. Vincent wrote: "If we want to find the manna hidden in our vocation, let us restrict and confine all our desires within it. Let us esteem and love it as a precious gift from the hand of God, and try to accomplish His holy Will in it always and in all things. This is my prayer to Him and what I ask you to ask of Him for the whole Company and for me...." (Coste IV, Eng. ed., ltr. 1537, p. 443).