8 June 1989
Niagara University, New York

My dear Confreres,

I was at my desk preparing this homily one evening last week, when Father Baylach, Editor of Vincentiana, came to my room with a large sheet of statistics of the Congregation. Each year he devotes many weeks to compiling a list of statistics on the basis of the returns we receive from the Visitors. Father Baylach picked out two or three points in the statistics which he thought would be of particular interest and significance to me. First, only a little over 5% of the total number of Confreres of the Congregation are engaged in the apostolate of popular missions. Second, 12% of our personnel are engaged in the formation of future priests in our own seminaries and in diocesan seminaries. Third, close to 10% are engaged in the apostolate of suffering, that is, those who are sick, aged and infirm. Fourth, the highest percentage of Confreres, almost 28%, are engaged in parochial ministry.

When Father Baylach made his observations, I was poring over the text of today's Gospel, and particularly over the question which the Scribe had put to Our Lord: "'Which is the first of all the Commandments?' `This is the first,' replied Our Lord....`You should love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind and with all your strength.'" (Mk 12:30). When Father Baylach left my room, I continued to reflect on the Gospel, but I was distracted by the statistics. Each Confrere accepts the two great Commandments of the law. Each Confrere tries to live by them to a greater or lesser degree of perfection. Then the question came to my mind: Would any change be effected in the statistics of the Congregation if for one day or three days, each Confrere tried to maximize by one degree his living of the two great Commandments of the law? You will remember the scene, an imaginary one but very much in character, in the film, Monsieur Vincent, when Queen Anne of Austria, is talking to our Founder towards the end of his life. She is listing some of his great achievements. He listens pensively and then mutters: "I have done nothing." She continues to catalogue the works he has initiated and again St. Vincent mutters: "I have done nothing." The Queen becomes a little impatient with him and says: "Monsieur Vincent, if you say you have done nothing, what must we do if we are to save our souls?" Monsieur Vincent slowly raises his head and with his piercing black eyes looks at the Queen and utters the one word: "More." Could this Province do more about loving God? Could it love God with more of its strength, with more of its mind, and with more of its soul? Would that change the columns of the statistics? I do not pretend to answer the question with any precision, but I think there would be some movement in those columns. They say that a pebble thrown into the sea raises the level of the oceans around the world. What would happen to the Congregation, to this Province of Philadelphia, if over the next few days each of us came out of ourselves just one degree more to meet the God of love, Who created us and Who gave Himself up to death on the cross because He loves each one of us?

What shall I say about St. Vincent and the two great Commandments of the law? The spiritual genius of St. Vincent, as with so many other saints, lies in the success he had in marrying so happily in the texture of his life the two great Commandments of the law. I like very much the observation of the French historian, Bremond, in his work on the history of religious sentiment in France of the sixteenth century: "It is not his love of mankind which led him to sanctity, but it is rather that sanctity made him truly and efficaciously charitable. It is not the poor who gave him to God, but God Who gave him to the poor." (H. Bremond, Histoire du sentiment religieux de France, III, p. 219).

The dynamism, the energy, the love which St. Vincent manifested to the poor did not come from any doctrinaire views on politics or sociology. The source of his energy and the clarity of his spiritual vision came from his contemplation of the words and actions of Jesus Christ in the pages of the Gospel and from his daily contact with Jesus Christ in the quietness of prayer. He became convinced that, once men and women are made new through their personal dedication to Jesus Christ, a new world will follow.

I would like to think that your Convocation and Assembly will have as one of its principal consequences a check on the balancing or realignment of the two great Commandments of the law in the lives of the Confreres. The idea is that we would be men of God, men with experimental knowledge of God and of Him Whom He has sent, yet not so heavenly-minded as to be of no earthly use. The whole idea is lucidly presented by St. Vincent in a letter which he wrote to one of his priests. He appeals to him to exercise: "...the two great virtues of Jesus Christ, that is, religion towards the Father and charity towards men. So then, Father, is there any other task in the world more necessary or more desirable than yours...? Humble yourself unceasingly and have full confidence in Our Lord so that He will unite you with Himself." (Coste VI, Fr. ed., pp. 393-394).