54. “Christus Vivit”—“Christ is alive!” A Reflection on the Post-Synodal Apostolic Exhortation on Youth, the Faith, and Vocational Discernment

“Christus Vivit”—“Christ is Alive”—is Pope Francis’ exhortation following the October 2018 meeting of the Synod of Bishops. The Exhortation is addressed “to young people and to the entire people of God,” although it’s hard to imagine many young people wading their way through the entire document! Some parts of the Exhortation are addressed to all of us, and in some places Francis speaks directly to the youth of today. At the beginning, the document draws heavily on Scripture for a biblical portrait of youth and youthfulness. It then describes the situation in which young people are growing up today, the world they live in together with its challenges, its suffering, its many dangers, and its possibilities. Finally, towards the end, the Exhortation considers the topics of vocation and discernment. Along the way I highlighted a number of sentences to go back to and reflect on. Regarding the rich young man of Matthew 19 who walked away, for example, Francis writes, “He had given up his youth.” (#18) And a little later: “If you have lost your inner vitality, your dreams, your enthusiasm, your optimism and your generosity, Jesus stands before you as once he stood before the dead son of the widow, and with all the power of his resurrection he urges you, ‘Young man, I say to you arise!’ (Lk 7:14)” ( #20). Speaking of Jesus, Francis writes: “He is the true youthfulness of a world grown old, the youthfulness of a universe waiting ‘in travail’ (Rom 8:22) to be clothed with his light and to live his life.” (#32) And lest we think that youthfulness is something we inevitably lose, the Pope reminds us: “Youth is more than simply a period of time; it is a state of mind.” (#34) I also found striking Francis’ insistence that we need a Church that knows how to listen. He says: “Although many young people are happy to see a Church that is humble yet confident in her gifts and capable of offering fair and fraternal criticism, others want a Church that listens more, that does more than simply condemn the world. They do not want to see a Church that is silent and afraid to speak, but neither one that is always battling obsessively over two or three issues. To be credible to young people, there are times when she needs to regain her humility and simply listen, recognizing that what others have to say can provide some light to help her better understand the Gospel. A Church always on the defensive, which loses her humility and stops listening to others, which leaves no room for questions, loses her youth and turns into a museum. How, then, will she be able to respond to the dreams of young people?” (#41) Too often we utter judgments about morality or belief without having listened carefully to the experience of others.

The dynamic nature of vocation Yet perhaps even more striking about the Exhortation is its discussion of vocation in chapter eight. Vocation is, as we know, a calling—“the call to life, the call to friendship with [God], the call to holiness” (#248). Vocation, we might say, is not so much a state of life as a way of life. Vocation is dynamic, not static; a verb, not a noun. It is ever unfolding. Francis refers to this as vocation “in a broad sense.” But then there is vocation “in the strict sense” (#253), which he describes as “a call to missionary service to others.”

472 He explains: “The Lord calls us to share in his work of creation and to contribute to the common good by using the gifts we have received.” Vocation is all about service. Francis quotes from Evangelii Gaudium: “the mission of being in the heart of the people is not just a part of my life or a badge I can take off; it is not an ‘extra’ or just another moment in life. Instead, it is something I cannot uproot from my being without destroying my very self. I am a mission on this earth; that is the reason why I am here in this world” (#254). A mission on this earth—“the mission of being in the heart of the people.” But what does “being in the heart of the people” mean? Here is how Francis explained it in no. 274 of Evangelii Gaudium: “If we are to share our lives with others and generously give of ourselves, we also have to realize that every person is worthy of our giving. Not for their physical appearance, their abilities, their language, their way of thinking, or for any satisfaction that we might receive, but rather because they are God’s handiwork, his creation. God created that person in his image, and he or she reflects something of God’s glory. Every human being is the object of God’s infinite tenderness, and he himself is present in their lives. Jesus offered his precious blood on the cross for that person. Appearances notwithstanding, every person is immensely holy and deserves our love. Consequently, if I can help at least one person to have a better life, that already justifies the offering of my life. It is a wonderful thing to be God’s faithful people. We achieve fulfilment when we break down walls and our heart is filled with faces and names!” A heart filled with faces and names: the mission of being in the heart of the people means the mission to carry God’s people within us. In the end, is it God who does the calling, or is it the

473 people? Or do the people become God’s voice? In prayer, when we close our eyes, what do we see and what do we hear, really? In reaching out to just one outsider who needs us, we move beyond the shallowness and preoccupations that wall us in. “We grow in wisdom and maturity when we take the time to touch the suffering of others” (#171). And once that wall cracks, however so slightly, other faces can make their way through.

Love, marriage, family As the Pope continues reflecting on vocation, he turns his attention to marriage and family. In a culture that increasingly disparages the making of a lifelong commitment in favor of enjoying the present, Francis encourages young people “to swim against the tide.” “I urge you,” he says, “to opt for marriage” (#264), which he calls “the vocation to form one flesh” (#260), the example of “being there for others” that people know best. In many parts of the world, however, marriage is severely under stress, and when marriages are under stress, children suffer; their world becomes unstable. All the more reason, then, to prepare for and to embrace this vocation, which has its roots in the very mystery of God. “Marriage requires preparation,” Francis writes, “and this calls for growing in self-knowledge, developing the greater virtues, particularly love, patience, openness to dialogue and helping others. It also involves maturing in your own sexuality, so that it becomes less and less a means of using others, and increasingly a capacity to entrust yourself fully to another person in an exclusive and generous way” (#265). The same self-knowledge and sexual maturity are also essential, of course, for ordained ministry and consecrated life. Interestingly, the Exhortation does not then move immediately to “the vocation to special consecration,” but to

474 “the world of work.” After all, work—what we do with our lives—and vocation—why we do it—are linked. Here Francis makes two points. First, work is absolutely essential to human flourishing. It is “an expression of human dignity, a path of development and of social inclusion” (#271). Second, youth unemployment, job insecurity, and “the harsh reality of the job market” are major scourges of our time. In addition, people often come to their work with little or no sense of vocation. Nevertheless, it is imperative not to surrender: “I ask you never to give up on your dreams, never completely bury a calling, and never accept defeat. Keep seeking at least partial or imperfect ways to live what you have discerned to be your real calling” (#272). Francis’ brief comments about “the vocation to special consecration,” that is, to priesthood, religious life, or “other forms of consecration,” coming right after his reflection about work, might suggest that these vocations should be classified as work. But are they? While it is absolutely true that priests and religious labor, in their case ministry (as a form of work) and way of life become thoroughly intertwined. Yet the same transition from work to self-offering, from labor to vocation, characterizes everyone whose life becomes, over time, one continuous act of service. Isn’t this what happens in a Christian marriage? Francis’ advice, “In discerning your vocation, do not dismiss the possibility of devoting yourself to God,” leads into his concluding chapter on discernment.

475 Becoming skilled discerners In its final chapter the Exhortation considers two major points. First, discernment means learning to “recognize God’s work in our daily lives” (#282) and acquiring the ability “to perceive God’s language” (#283). To accomplish this, we absolutely need silence and prayer. Indeed, listening “to the Lord and to others, and to reality itself” (#284) is a form of prayer, and, like learning any language, it takes time. The second point is about the sensitivities that are needed on the part of those who accompany us along the path of discernment. To speak about recognizing God’s work in our lives sounds simple, but how do we learn what to look for—the identifying sounds or markers? Francis proposes a series of questions: “Do I know myself, quite apart from my illusions and emotions? Do I know what brings joy or sorrow to my heart? What are my strengths and weaknesses?” And these questions give rise to another: “How can I serve people better and prove most helpful to our world and to the Church?” (#285) He then writes: “So often in life, we waste time asking ourselves: ‘Who am I?’ … But the real question is: ‘For whom am I?’” And the answer is, “For God,” who has decided “that you should also be for others.” (#286) This answer does not come to us from a cloud- hidden voice on Mount Sinai, but from below, that is, from within our own experience. Otherwise, the answer has no roots. To set the stage for discerning their vocation and living it out from one day to the next, the Pope encourages young people to imagine themselves in the company of Jesus, walking beside them as a close friend. For those of us who are older, such an imaginative exercise was exciting when we were young; but what about now? Would we do it all again? Is the friend still there? Can we still pray from our imaginations?

476 Earlier in the Exhortation, Francis wrote: “Becoming an adult does not mean you have to abandon what is best about this stage of your lives… Adults, too, have to mature without losing the values of youth… As we mature, grow older and structure our lives, we should never lose that enthusiasm and openness to an ever greater reality” (nos. l59 and 160). One might also put it this way: Innocence is not something we once had but gradually lost. Innocence is what we achieve after a lifetime of following the one who has been calling us, day by day, to step into that “ever greater reality.” The story of Nathanael—the one in whom there was no deceit—comes to mind. “Jesus said, ‘Do you believe because I told you I saw you under the fig tree? You shall see greater things than that!’” (John 1:50)

[2019]

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