415. Twenty-eighth Monday of Ordinary Time

Meditations no. 369 (unofficial computer-aided translation)

Zeal to bring souls to Christ.

In a Gospel text which is sometimes used on the Twenty-Eighth Sunday of the Year, we hear of the parable of the king’s marriage feast for his son. We can use it to guide this morning’s prayer, led by the hand of our Father.

The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a marriage feast for his son, and sent his servants to call those who were invited to the marriage feast; but they would not come. The great King has come and invited many people to his banquet. Here on earth all souls are called to the great King’s wedding feast, yet souls do not want to go. They reject the invitation, and the hall remains empty.

I too know something of those refusals, my children. More than once I’ve spoken to you about those lonely early times, those years when I practically repeated our Lord’s words: ecce prandium meum paravi, tauri mei et altilia occisa sunt, et omnia parata: venite ad nuptias. The banquet is ready. I’ve prepared the feast. The oxen and fatlings have been killed. All is now ready. Our Lord has prepared for us a fullness of Love: without betrayals, nor causing tiredness, with all goodness and beauty.

But they made light of it and went off, one to his farm: to their selfishness, to their comfort. And another to his business: to their profession, which they do not know how to turn into a divine path on earth.

Like our Father, it has to hurt us to see people turning away from God or afraid of giving themselves to him. So we renew our apostolic zeal, and we ask God to have mercy on all men, to return again and again, with the zeal of this good King, to seek them out and draw them to love him.

But the things of God always go ahead, even if we are not willing. Then he said to his servants, ‘The wedding is ready, but those invited were not worthy. Go therefore to the thoroughfares, and invite to the marriage feast as many as you find.’ Aren’t you moved, my children? God calls everyone. You and I are included in the multitude of people he has sought along the highways and byways. And we have come like those men in the parable: lame, blind, deaf.

And those servants went out into the streets and gathered all whom they found, both bad and good; so the wedding hall was filled with guests. We too must do as these servants did, and draw as many people as possible to the pathways of God. Wherever there are people capable of serving God, there we must be present to lead them to Christ.

We have to proclaim to them the great King’s invitation: Everything is ready, come to the banquet. It is our duty is to call many souls to dedicate themselves to work in the service of God.

Seeking souls urgently, since God calls them.

By saying yes to God’s invitation and placing our entire life at his service, we have lit an unquenchable fire, a flame fed daily by the love of God. And our flame should spread swiftly to many others, like the servants’ proclamation in the parable: Ite ad exitus viarum, et quoscumque inveneritis, vocate ad nuptias (Go therefore to the thoroughfares, and invite to the marriage feast as many as you find). Go out to all the pathways! Go out! I’ve repeated this so often: it is not our way to stay cooped up at home, but to go out to all the pathways of the earth, seeking souls where they are, and then bring them to God, wounded by love, by understanding, by dedication, or at least a desire for dedication.

I’ve sometimes thought, my children, that souls are like cherries when we begin working with them. Pick one, and two come with it. Pick another, and four or five more come along.

Souls from every walk of life, whatever their personal, professional or social circumstances. For we’re interested in everyone. Certainly those God sends to his Work are a selection. But we can’t remain enclosed in ourselves, but rather must spread out, because we must do good to all humanity.

As fire consumes the forest and as a flame sets the mountains ablaze… That is how our proselytistic spirit should be, our desire to bring many souls to Opus Dei. When we live our dedication faithfully, our apostolic zeal always remains on fire, and we find many opportunities for a constant, urgent apostolate in the ordinary situations of each day. This is the appropriate response to our Lord’s sense of urgency in the parable of the marriage feast.

Exi in vias et saepes - this time it is St Luke who tells us - et compelle intrare, ut impleatur domus mea. Go out to the highways and hedges, and compel people to come in, that my house may be filled. Force them to enter, push them, bring them to me. All this is implied by the compelle intrare in the Gospel. It is perfectly compatible with the most tactful respect for personal freedom, and absolutely contrary to passivity, laziness or human respect.

My children, you have to get close to your companions and friends, so you can call them in God’s name: compelle intrare! If no one had called you, you probably wouldn’t be here, serving God in the Work.

You must tell many people that Christ also seeks them, as he sought the first Twelve, as he sought out the Samaritan woman, and Zacchaeus, and the paralytic. Each of you in your own place of work, wherever you are, should feel the need to reach many people so that the banquet hall may be filled.

I ask all my daughters and sons to make a deep examination of conscience in their personal prayer, to see what they have done up to now to bring souls to Opus Dei. Your examination should end with a firm resolution: to do whatever you can to gain many vocations, because we need them. Thank God, we don’t lack vocations, even amid the painful circumstances that now affect so many Christians and so many environments. But precisely for this reason we need more hands: the Church needs them, God wants them in his service.

You all have to be concerned about this sowing.

We cannot stay cooped up at home. God didn’t want his Work to be a residence or a corporate apostolate. He has raised it up to sanctify souls. Like the servants in the parable, we have to go out in search of souls, without waiting for them to come to us.

Human and supernatural means for proselytism.

To keep our zeal for proselytism enkindled and make it effective, we have to employ both supernatural means and human means.

We need to talk with Jesus in the Bread and in the Word, in the Host and in prayer. We have to be in love, our Father said, and a little “crazy”. Many years ago, people said I was crazy. A priest friend told me: “They say you are mad.” “Pray,” I answered him, “so that I be even more so.” It was true, my children. I was “crazy”, as you are too: crazy with love for God.

Love keeps us enkindled, constantly concerned for others. It leads us to draw close as loyal friends and tell them that Christ wants to enter their lives too. Therefore, the supernatural means are inseparable from the human ones. We need to move, and break through the crust of comfort that sometimes holds us back. We cannot remain passive. We have to get into the lives of others, as Christ got into your life and mine.

If God had not done so, what would have become of me? Christ didn’t ask my permission to use me as his instrument. He came with divine dominion right to the centre of my soul: “Do this for me, do that.” And I obeyed like a little donkey. He is the King of all, and we are his envoys.

But half-hearted love, ineffective desires, are like arrows that strike the air. In contrast, the yearning for souls present in Christ’s whole life, in his example and word, demands specific deeds from us: a generous carrying out of the Gospel’s compelle intrare.

People are surprised. They’re amazed at our eagerness to bring other souls closer to God to serve him. But we know this is God’s wish, and it’s a clear sign of our love.

There comes to mind what I used to tell my sons many years ago, and I repeat it to you now: that they should be imprudent in the apostolate, not careful and cautious. Only old people should be prudent; and even though your brothers may be angry when they hear me say it, I’m the only “old man” in Opus Dei.

You should enkindle your zeal for proselytism, and cast aside all fear. You have to kill yourselves for the sake of proselytism, for there lies our effectiveness.

Many souls are awaiting our example of Christian life and our words about Christ’s saving doctrine. Our tongue is for speaking, even imprudently, our Father stressed. We go through life cheerful and imprudent: the more imprudent you are, the better. I always think, as I do now, of St Paul’s times and I remember his admonishment: Argue, obsecra, increpa… opportune, importune (convince, rebuke and exhort… in season and out of season) … St Paul, who has known and deeply savoured the joy of belonging to God, sets out confidently to preach without respite, even from his prison.

Our Blessed Lady, Regina apostolorum, will obtain for us from her Son the holy “imprudence” we need to draw many souls to his Work.