Chevalier de la charité

Have you ever glimpsed pure goodness in another person? Sometimes we see it as we gaze on a baby — goodness, innocence and seemingly limitless potential. On rarer occasions, we get caught up in a similar perception of a young person or an adult. Some people seem to exude peace and integrity. They are a blessing to be around. That must be what John the Baptist perceived in Jesus: a person whose very being illustrated holiness.

Who was John that he could recognize Jesus for who he was? According to Luke, John was a new Isaac, a son of the promise born to an aged couple. Today’s liturgy suggests that he identified with the servant Isaiah described: called from the time of his conception to be a light to his people. All the Gospels depict John as a conscious forerunner to the Christ. Never claiming to be a messiah, he preached to prepare the way, probably never guessing how different Jesus’ preaching would be from his own.

Surprisingly, the Baptist’s essential characteristic, at least as he appears in the Gospel of John, is his humility. The rousing prophet, the desert ascetic who invented the baptismal ritual that continues to our own day, proclaimed that the unknown one to come after him ranked ahead of him. Although John’s Gospel avoids admitting that Jesus submitted to baptism, the Baptist testifies that he saw the Spirit come down upon Jesus at the moment the other Gospels describe as the baptism.

Although he was not a disciple, John gets a more detailed and personal description than the Gospels give any other character except Jesus himself. Historically, John was probably as well known as Jesus and his following rivaled that of Jesus. But, with all that John accomplished, his greatest Gospel witness came through his saying that he was not “the one.” The picture we get of John is that he not only had enough faith to believe in his own unique and crucial vocation, but enough to see beyond his own call, talents and insights.

If there were one phrase that could sum up John’s essential message, it might be our Muslim friends’ cry, « Allahu Akbar » (« God is greater »). With all his accomplishments, with everything he saw around him, be it the might of Rome or the uncountable stars in the sky, John lived and breathed an attitude of « Allahu Akbar. »

That is the attitude that allowed John to recognize Jesus. With a profound grasp of his own prophetic vocation, John recognized something greater in Jesus, something that reflected more of God and more of God’s promised future. Thus, John uttered those mystery-filled words we repeat in each Eucharist, « Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. » The grace that impelled John in his vocation led him to recognize the grace that filled Jesus.

What did John mean by calling Jesus, « Lamb of God »? Was he referring to the lamb that replaced Isaac in Abraham’s sacrifice? The lamb of Exodus whose blood saved the people from destruction? The lamb of atonement sacrifice that restored the people’s broken relationship with God? To the apocalyptic lamb whose death brought life? The servant of God who went to death like a lamb to the slaughter?

The simplest answer is, yes. John called Jesus the lamb and the son of God. John saw Jesus and could only say, « Allahu Akbar. »

The Gospels tell us about John so we may learn from him and to see ourselves in him. Like John, we have been called from birth. The mystery of our lives is that we are created in the divine image and called to become images of the divine. That’s what Paul means when he says we have been sanctified and are called to be holy. John could recognize Jesus and say « Allahu Akbar » because he too shared the divine life: like knew like. We too know our moments of crying out « Allahu Akbar » because what we see in others and in creation reminds us of both God’s unfathomable greatness and God’s intimate love — a love that dwells in us as well.

John comes to us today inviting us into his own attitude of humble wonderment. First, listening to Isaiah like he did, we remember that we are created in the divine image and that sharing divine life is the reason for our being. Then, lest we ever settle for less or even just settle, John shows us how to open ourselves to the wonder of the God who is greater than we can imagine.

As we begin « Ordinary Time, » John invites us to learn over and over to recognize Christ for who he is and what he offers. Then we too will cry out « Allahu Akbar » in any and every language we speak.

Despite a few successes — like the establishment of a loss and damages fund — the latest United Nations international conference on climate change (COP27) fell short by failing to name the main source of our global problem: the burning of fossil fuels.

Globally, greenhouse gas emissions are still rising, and most nations are not on track to reduce their emissions at the necessary pace to avert irreversible climate impacts. New fossil fuel projects are being planned or developed across the globe. Keeping the Paris Agreement objective of 1.5°C maximum planetary warming alive seems like an already lost battle.

Religious institutions were present at the November climate summit in Sharm el-Shiekh, Egypt, to lend their moral influence to climate conversations. But one of their most significant contributions to the cause is more tangible than morality, albeit an avenue of often untapped potential: church finances.

Religions worldwide are incarnated into millions of institutions — churches, temples, congregations, schools, health services and more. These institutions own and manage large plots of land, numerous buildings and significant financial assets. In addition to their spiritual and moral influences, religious institutions’ possessions give them great temporal power.

Over the last six years, hundreds of Catholic institutions have publicly committed to divesting from fossil fuels, and thereby aligned their investment policies with the social teachings of the church on care for our common home. By divesting, Catholic institutions raise a prophetic voice, echoing Pope Francis in his 2015 encyclical Laudato Si’, « We know that technology based on the use of highly polluting fossil fuels — especially coal, but also oil and, to a lesser degree, gas — needs to be progressively replaced without delay. »

Yet, the Catholic world is vast, and there are still many voices missing from divestment announcements, despite the Vatican’s clear guidelines. I suspect there are a few reasons for this, among them disconnection, discomfort, confusion and complexity.

Finance is often seen as a technical issue outside the scope of moral and pastoral issues, therefore finance committees and staff are isolated from the work of their counterparts in ministries of justice, peace and creation care. But as Francis says in Laudato Si’, « Everything is interconnected. » Just as Catholic values should influence investing, finance professionals should share their industry knowledge by translating into comprehensible language what are the options on the table. Finance is a means to many ends, not only a way to earn more money.

Many institutions have become used to steadiness in high return and low risk investments. The complexification and commodification of financial assets hides our responsibility as owners or lenders. Some congregations or institutions rely on wealth accumulated over time to take care of elderly members of their communities or to implement projects they have planned over the years. The diversity of financial vehicles must not prevent from having discussions on why and how the wealth accumulated over time is to serve church missions. This is exactly what Mensuram Bonam, the recent text of the Pontifical Academy of Social Sciences, tells us.

The extent of the changes needed is complex and multifaceted. We need some imagination to prepare for the future — to cut emission by half in less than eight years (what is required by the Paris Agreement) looks more like the rapid conversion to war economies during World War II than the gradual transition into the industrial era two centuries ago. This speedy transition can only succeed with total engagement from all actors and strong stewardship of public authorities. Investing 5% of assets in impact investing isn’t sufficient. Decisions to fully divest from fossil fuels and invest in climate solutions show the way forward. Holding shares in, and thus profiting from, fossil fuels means not taking the Paris Agreement or church teaching seriously.

Fossil fuel-related investments’ market values are overestimated and accumulated money is likely to disappear if it’s invested in fossil fuel-related assets, what Carbon Tracker has dubbed « stranded assets. » Financial predictions have been unable to integrate the extent of the damages climate change will inflict on us. For example, only some insurers realize they cannot insure large infrastructures at risk because of more frequent extreme weather events. As the impacts of climate change worsen, our societies and economies are going to change dramatically. « We don’t need an army of actuaries to tell us that the catastrophic impacts of climate change will be felt beyond the traditional horizons of most actors — imposing a cost on future generations that the current generation has no direct incentive to fix, » said Mark Carney, governor of the Bank of England at the time.

This poses challenges for the business model of many Catholic institutions. Those who work in finance departments can no longer manage assets according to prudential rules based on the economy of the past, they must consider the economy needed for the future. We cannot separate questions of finance from political and moral questions. That is why the Laudato Si’ Movement encourages Catholic institutions not only to divest from fossil fuels, but also to endorse a fossil fuel non-proliferation treaty. Those are two sides of the same coin.

The church has sustained itself over time through prudence, but also through prophetic stances, boldness and a spirit of service. It may be difficult for Catholics to put Laudato Si’ and the social teachings of the church into action. But identifying specific challenges can help us overcome them, and help the Catholic Church to raise a prophetic voice and induce dramatic change through the reorientation of its finances.

Pope Francis will celebrate the fourth annual Sunday of the Word of God Jan. 22 and, like he did last year, will confer the ministries of lector and catechist on several lay people, according to the Dicastery for Evangelization.

The theme for the 2023 celebration is: « We proclaim what we have seen, » a quotation from 1 John 1:3, the dicastery said.

Francis began the Sunday of the Word of God to promote « the celebration, study and dissemination of the word of God, » which will help the church « experience anew how the risen Lord opens up for us the treasury of his word and enables us to proclaim its unfathomable riches before the world. »

The Mass in St. Peter’s Basilica Jan. 22 for the annual event was included in the Vatican’s short calendar of papal liturgical celebrations for January and early February. The calendar was published Jan. 12.

Also on the calendar is Francis’ celebration of an ecumenical evening prayer service at Rome’s Basilica of St. Paul Outside the Walls Jan. 25 to close the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity.

The week is organized by the Vatican Dicastery for Promoting Christian Unity and the Commission on Faith and Order of the World Council of Churches. The theme for 2023 is: « Do good; seek justice, » which comes from Isaiah 1:17.

The calendar also includes Francis’ trip to Congo and South Sudan Jan. 31-Feb. 5, which means he will not celebrate at the Vatican the Feb. 2 feast of the Presentation of the Lord and the World Day for Consecrated Life.

Peru’s bishops have called on the country’s government to stop violence that claimed at least 18 lives in anti-government protests Jan. 9-10 and has left more than 40 people dead and hundreds injured since early December.

After expressing their condolences to the families of those killed and promising pastoral accompaniment to the wounded, the bishops in a message issued Jan. 9 wrote that the deaths were a consequence of the « distortion of the right to protest, » in which people « resorted to illegality, » combined with the « excessive use of force » by security forces.

The brutal confrontation Jan. 9 occurred when protesters tried to seize the airport in Juliaca, a city of around 280,000 people two miles high in the southern Peruvian Altiplano, near the border with Bolivia. 

Videos circulating on social media showed civilian victims arriving at the local hospital in ambulances, a motorized rickshaw and a cart. Protesters later set fire to a police car, burning one officer alive and injuring another.

On Jan. 10, the bishops wrote: « We cannot return to the dark times of terror that left our country in mourning for 20 years, » a reference to the political violence of the 1980s and 1990s. « This situation merits energetic and resounding rejection by all, » they added, reaffirming « with great urgency » a call for an end to the violence from both sides.

The protests began in early December, when the national Congress impeached then-President Pedro Castillo after he announced he was closing down Congress and ruling by decree. Receiving no support from the military, Castillo attempted to take refuge in the Mexican Embassy, but was arrested and jailed. His wife and daughter were granted asylum in Mexico.

Those events on Dec. 7 were a tumultuous end to a nearly 18-month presidency for Castillo, a teacher and farmer from Peru’s northern Cajamarca region, with no government experience, who ran on the ticket of a leftist party. His term was marred by constant accusations of corruption and a revolving door of more than 70 government ministers.

After Castillo’s impeachment, Vice President Dina Boluarte was sworn in as president and called early elections for April 2024. Although she ran on the same ticket as Castillo, Boluarte had distanced herself from the president and was expelled from his Peru Libre party in January 2022.

Analysts have noted that with no congressional bloc to support her, Boluarte turned to the police and military when protests erupted, especially along the coastal highway and in Andean regions where Castillo had substantial support.

In demonstrations that began after Castillo’s impeachment and continued almost until Christmas, police used tear gas and fired at protesters who had blocked key highways and attempted to seize airports in several cities.

After a lull during the holidays, protests resumed Jan. 4. Juliaca has seen the most violent confrontations, but the government Ombudsman’s Office reported demonstrations in 24 provinces, strikes in seven and roadblocks in 16 as of Jan. 10.

Protesters are calling for Boluarte to resign, elections to be held this year and a constituent assembly to rewrite Peru’s constitution, which was last rewritten in 1993, after then-President Alberto Fujimori seized power in a move similar to that attempted by Castillo.

Boluarte has said her resignation would not solve the country’s problems and that she sees her administration as a transition government.

In their Jan. 9 message, the bishops, who begin their semi-annual retreat and assembly Jan. 11, said the country must « distinguish just demands from others that do not allow for rational dialogue. We cannot allow Peru to be destroyed by our own actions or let it fall into an institutional abyss. »

They called on the government to « urgently stop the violence and deaths, whatever their source, » for judicial authorities to investigate the killings and punish those responsible, and for Congress « to make the decisions demanded » by the situation.

They concluded, « Let us walk together to build peace in our beloved Peru. »