GO TO THE WHOLE WORLD

By Daniel Franklin E. Pilario, CM

Today’s Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul is also the day that St. Vincent assigned as the foundation day of the Congregation of the Mission. On this same day in 1617, the young Fr. Vincent preached in a small chapel in Folleville, France—about 85 miles north of Paris. The people were so touched, that they lined up for confessions right after. One author called the event the “stampede at the confessional”. Of course, he did not found the Congregation on that day. He was not even thinking of it yet. He just preached a sermon which he thought was meaningful to rural farmers who might not have celebrated a good liturgy for a long time. In the later years of his life, however, Vincent would refer to this day as “the first sermon of the Mission”.

Unlike St. Paul who was converted in a sudden and dramatic encounter with the Risen Lord, Vincent was looking for a deeper meaning of his life for many years. But on this day, in Folleville, his mission became clearer to him: that he would go wherever the poor people need him. Since that time, the destitute were in the French countryside, he resolved that he and his missionaries should be there with them—405 years before Pope Francis tells us to have the “smell of the sheep”. Of course, poverty assumed different faces later: abandoned infants and beggars in city streets, war refugees in Picardy, slaves in Tunis and elsewhere. But the significance of this day remains for Vincent and for all us members of the Vincentian family which would be helpful for us to remember: where the excluded people are, there we should be.

I come from the Vincentian Province of the Philippines. So, I have modest knowledge of my American brothers in the United States. When I arrived here five months ago, what aroused my curiosity was to know who are these French or Italian guys portrayed in the mosaic at the entrance of the Thomas More Church. So, I kept reading. I have read an interesting story of a French Vincentian, a certain Fr. Jean-Marie Odin, one of the first missionaries in the US. He recounted the conversion of an old Shawnees Indian chief. The chief was poisoned by an enemy and was very sick. This conversation between a Vincentian missionary and the native Indian is a delight to hear, even if it is a little bit romanticized.

“Are you very ill, brother?” the missionary asked.

“Yes, Blackrobe.” (This was how European missionaries were called)

“Are you thinking about your death?"

“I certainly am,” the chief replied.

“Will you be happy to go to the beautiful home of the Great Spirit, where you will live forever?” (I really admire how culturally respectful Odin was to the way the Shawnees call their God).

“Oh certainly, because I love the Great Spirit deeply.”

“But you won't be able to go unless I pour water on your head,” Odin said.

“Please, Blackrobe, pour the water on my head.”

But there was a problem. The Indian chief was dying. Will he able to forgive his enemy who poisoned him? Fr. Odin continued his story:

“Indians never forget a good received, and it is very difficult for them to forgive an injury. So I took the crucifix and showed him how much the Great Spirit had suffered from his own children” and asked that we also forgive others who injure us.

“I pardon him indeed, since the Great Spirit demands it,” said the chief.

And “he instructed his children never to revenge the evil that had been done to him.”

What a great story of kind encounter and friendship despite their different worlds, different races, different faiths. Today, we call that interreligious dialogue. No one was knocked down to the ground with a blinding light, as in St. Paul. There was not even a sermon or sacramental confession, like in St. Vincent. There was just an act of kindness and a respectful conversation. Yet God came down and hearts experienced conversion.

Fast forward to 2004—in Indonesia. This area was badly hit by tsunami on the day after Christmas. The Indonesian Daughters of Charity wanted to help the island of Banda Aceh which was totally devastated; around 167,000 died. They wanted to build a small hospital to help in the medical needs of the totally Muslim population. But the local government insisted that they should also build a mosque in it. With their little funds, it was not an easy decision. But in the end, the DCs decided to build a mosque, while they had only a small corner as their own chapel. Later, the nuns realized that the mosque became the center of consolation and prayer for all patients and staff, all of whom are Muslims.

There were no Christian sermons preached; maybe there were words of the Qur’an from the imam’s exhortation. There were no people lining up for confession or Christian conversion. But thousands of sick people are healed since then, and the good news of Allah’s love and compassion are felt in many Muslim hearts.

The gospel today says: “Go into the whole world and proclaim the gospel to every creature. These signs will accompany those who believe—they will drive out demons, they will speak new languages, they will lay hands on the sick, and they will recover.” These words are happening in countless ways worldwide upon your hearing them today.

And we pray that they will continue to happen here in St. John’s University.

Daniel Franklin E. Pilario, CM
Vincentian Chair of Social Justice
St. John’s University (New York)
January 25, 2022