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Biography
Joseph
Cardinal Bernadin, the Archbishop of Chicago, is a gifted and
remarkable man. His thoughtful leadership has raised our nation's
awareness of the difficult issues behind the nuclear arms race and the
economic problems faced by our nation's poor. A wonderful recognition of
his work for peace was his receipt of the Albert Einstein Peace Prize.
[Biographical information is correct as of the broadcast date noted
above.]
"The Journey To Mature Discipleship"
Contemporary life is fast-paced, complex, and sometimes disorienting.
Our restless generation races from one experience to another, from an
event to its sequel. We sometimes seem to be driven in search of
something which we find difficult to identify with precision or explain
with conviction. As we look for meaning in life, for happiness, or for a
sense of peace and harmony, our frantic quest often becomes a vicious
circle. The more we search, the more we seem to be lost.
My life is not so very different from your own. My specific
responsibilities as a pastor may vary from yours, but I face the same
basic human issues as you. I get caught up in the maelstrom of my work
or ministry. I am sometimes bewildered and perplexed by rapid changes in
society, both at home and around the world. It's no secret that I
live—by reason of my office and, some tell me, by my very nature—in the
"fast lane". It's just as easy for me to lose my way on our common
Christian pilgrimage as it is for anyone else.
Like you, I have sometimes wondered, "Is this all there is to life?" My
thirty-six years as a priest and twenty-two as a bishop have been marked
by a search for the Lord, by a sincere concern to live my life in
accordance with His gospel. But, so often, my search seemed to lead me
into darkness rather than light. I felt buffeted and bombarded by
problems associated with my ministry. I often felt I was walking alone.
Then one day I encountered the Emmaus story in a new way, and it had a
profound impact on my life. I'd like to share with you some of what I
have learned from this beautiful gospel narrative. It has many vivid
human touches and insights into human behavior. Although the story
itself is a model of simplicity, its meaning is quite profound. Let us
reflect upon it for a few moments.
Two of Jesus' disciples are journeying from Jerusalem to Emmaus two days
after the crucifixion. As they walk, they discuss the events of the
previous week. The journey provides adequate time, and neutral space, to
reflect upon what had happened in Jerusalem the last few days. As the
story unfolds, it becomes clear that they are quite disillusioned. Like
the other disciples, they did not clearly hear or fully understand
Jesus' earlier predictions about His death and His resurrection. They
are perplexed and confused. Disbelief has overpowered them. They are
leaving Jerusalem and its disturbing events because, for them, Jesus'
death was an unmitigated tragedy.
Then Jesus joins them on their journey, but they do not recognize him.
There is always something mysterious about a stranger, but the two
disciples do not begin to fathom the depth of the mystery they have just
encountered. The crucified and risen Lord asks them about their animated
discussion, and, naturally, they are surprised that anyone would not be
familiar with the events which had occurred in Jerusalem the previous
week. Cleopas, indeed, expresses great astonishment that the stranger
seems not to have heard about them. The two disciples then begin to
describe the key events in Jesus' life, not realizing that they are
telling the stranger about Himself.
Their incorrect interpretation of the events reveals their distorted
messianic expectations—the very kinds of expectations that Jesus
constantly sought to dispel from His followers. These rigid religious
expectations prevent them from seeing Him as one who lives and walks
with them. They are obsessed with recent events—which they did not
expect, despite Jesus' earlier predictions. And their interpretation of
the events is so colored by their distorting lenses, they do not
recognize the risen Lord in their midst. Their story is about
disillusionment and bewilderment, about disappointment and failure.
The two disciples also share some reports which they had received that
very morning about the empty tomb. The astonishing thing is that they do
not know what to make of them. They can repeat statements, of course,
and possibly even consider them accurate. But, for them, at this
traumatic moment, their significance is lost on them. Their hearts are
slow to believe.
Then Jesus takes the initiative and, in effect, begins to tell His own
story. Exposing their lack of understanding and faith, His main point is
a rhetorical question: "Did not the Messiah have to undergo all this so
as to enter into His glory?" He reviews the Old Testament scriptures.
It's all there in the tradition, but their minds and hearts have been
blinded. The picture Jesus paints of the Jerusalem events is radically
different. It ends, not with failure, but with triumph over death, with
glory!
At this point in the journey, they are near Emmaus. When Jesus acts as
if He were going farther, they earnestly invite Him to spend the night
with them. He has shared His story with them, so they offer Him
hospitality. They open their hearts to Him in love, and, when they are
seated at table, Jesus responds in love. The Guest becomes the Host!
In the table fellowship, the two disciples recognize that the Stranger
is, in fact, a dear friend. For, when Jesus takes bread, blesses it,
breaks it and distributes it to them, their eyes are opened in
recognition of the Lord. He reveals Himself to them in silence, in
eucharistic gestures, as He did at the Last Supper. In the breaking of
the bread, Jesus reveals Himself to them as One who gives Himself
totally to them.
Then He immediately vanishes from their sight—but not from their hearts!
He disappears physically, but He remains present in their midst—in the
word and in the fellowship of His table.
Their first reaction is to acknowledge that their hearts were burning as
He explained the Scriptures to them. The fire had not altogether been
extinguished by the disillusioning events of the previous week. Jesus
has fanned the fragile spark into a strong flame—a flame of new life and
love.
Now they have a new story to tell. They not only see Jesus differently,
they also see themselves in a new way. They are not ex-followers of a
dead prophet, but disciples of the risen Lord. That is why their second
reaction to this encounter is to return to Jerusalem, despite the late
hour, to give witness about their experience. They spread the fire in
their hearts to the Eleven and the others assembled in the Upper Room.
There they learn that their experience of the risen Lord is not unique.
Peter has also seen Him. They review what happened on their journey and,
especially, how they came to recognize Jesus in the breaking of the
bread.
The journey to Emmaus begins in blindness, gloom, disillusionment and
despair. It ends with the warming of the disciples' hearts, the opening
of their eyes, and their return to Jerusalem. It begins with the
shattering of an immature faith and ends with the disciples giving
witness to a mature faith. Their story now is a new one—a story filled
with life and hope.
The Emmaus narrative explains how Christians come to understand, how
they move from ignorance to knowledge. The two disciples come to
recognize Jesus both in the unfolding of Scripture and the breaking of
bread. Jesus' explanation that the Messiah's death was necessary does
not trigger an immediate recognition of who the Stranger is. This
happens only in His free gesture of breaking the bread.
For St. Luke, the Christian life in not a solitary, melancholic journey.
Christians follow Christ in full assurance that He has not abandoned
them but will lead them through grief and suffering to glory. Each of us
is challenged to decide where to stand on the road: among the perplexed
and disillusioned who have doubting hearts and blinded eyes—or among
those who listen attentively, see clearly, and respond appropriately to
Jesus' own story. Scripture must be read—not with a slow, doubting heart
but with a responsive heart. It is Jesus Himself who makes our hearts
burn and opens our eyes.
For St. Luke, the Christian life is described as the Way. Christians
must journey towards Jerusalem just as Jesus did. Conversely, to leave
Jerusalem is to go the wrong way, for it leads us away from the Lord.
The journey to Jerusalem—the pilgrimage to the site of the cross and the
resurrection—remains essential to the Christian life. It cannot be
avoided. To be an authentic Christian, one cannot walk away from
Jerusalem and abandon hope. We must also believe in the risen Lord. When
we have done both of these tasks, and have also received the gift of
God's Spirit in Jerusalem, then we too receive the mission of telling
Jesus' story "to the ends of the earth."
As I intimated earlier, the Emmaus story has had a significant impact on
my life. As I reflected upon it in prayer, I began to realize how often
I looked elsewhere for the Lord rather than right in the midst of each
day's journey! I became aware that often I sought escape from the
difficulties and sufferings which I encountered daily in my ministry. I
tended to think that my ministry was mine alone, rather than the Lord's.
In light of the Emmaus story, all of us come to recognize that we do not
walk alone! The Lord Jesus is with us. Through His word He helps us keep
on the right path. Through the breaking of bread each day He feeds the
deepest hungers of our heart and spirit.
Our search for the Lord continues, of course, but we need no longer
search so far and wide. Our quest takes us into the deep recesses of our
hearts where we learn to be still and listen to the Lord speaking to us
in the events and people around us. The Emmaus story helps us understand
the Lord's presence where, often before, we had experienced His absence.
From this beautiful story we also learn to recognize Jesus in the
"strangers" we encounter on our journey, that is, in our fellow
pilgrims, in all our brothers and sisters. They share our search, our
weaknesses, and our deepest desires, even though sometimes they may not
recognize this. From some of them we learn more about the Lord Jesus and
His Gospel. To others we proclaim the new story, the Good News, which we
have heard and continue to hear.
As Christians, our spiritual journey constantly brings us back to
Jerusalem, to the death and resurrection of Jesus which gives meaning to
all that we are and do. Strengthened by God's Spirit, we wish to
proclaim to all people the wonders of the Lord, the love He has for each
of us.
I am particularly grateful for this opportunity to share with you an
important episode in the story of Jesus. My prayer for you is that you
will find it in your own story, as I have.
Interview with Joseph
Bernadin
Interviewed by Dave Hardin
Dave Hardin:
Now, let's visit with tonight's speaker, Cardinal Bernadin. It's really nice to
have you with us, Joseph. I recently read an article that I was very moved by in
U.S. Catholic, tell us something about what you were saying in that interview
about prayer.
Joseph Bernadin: The article that you are
referring to appeared in the last year or so. And the editors of U.S. Catholic,
I think, were very eager to know about my own spiritual journey, my own prayer
life. They wanted to share that with their readers. I kind of hesitated at
first, wondering if I should do it or not. But then I decided that I would.
I think that one of the principle points that I wanted to make, at least by way
of an introduction, was that I'm no different from anyone else. Sometimes people
will approach a Bishop or a priest or a minister and because they are "into"
religion in kind of a professional way, these people will think that they've got
it all put together. But that's not really the way it is. We are all pilgrims
together in this journey that we call life. So I was very eager to share with
the readers of U.S. Catholic my own spiritual journey.
One of the first things that I talked about was the fact that as a busy person -
and all of us are busy these days - that somehow I began thinking that my work
was my prayer. I was too busy doing good things, frequently for other people,
and for this reason I didn't have the time to step aside and enter into a
prayerful relationship with the Lord. But I kept talking about the need for
developing a deeper spirituality - a more intense prayer life - but I was too
busy. One day someone said to me, "Well if you really mean what you say, why
don't you do something about it?"
I was really taken aback when this person, much younger than I, said this to me.
But then I said, "You know, that person is right. After all, if you really think
something is important then you will give priority to it."
The first thing that I had to do was to make time for prayer. Time is one of our
most precious commodities. And I started to make time by getting up earlier in
the morning, because it's early in the morning that I have a little time to
myself - I'm not bombarded by telephone calls or urgent visits of various kinds.
And that's how I got started.
Sometimes people feel that they don't know how to pray well, they don't get a
great deal of satisfaction
out of prayer and they become discouraged. That happened to me, too; it still
happens to me. But what I say is this, "Lord, this is your time, I'm not going
to use it for myself and I'm not going to give it to anybody else. So even if
I'm not all that successful, from a human point of view, in my prayer,
none-the-less, you know that I love you, you know that I consider you the most
important person in my life, and this time is yours." I think that when we look
upon prayer in that way and when we make time for it, I think that helps a great
deal.
Another thing that I think helps, and I shared this with the readers of U.S.
Catholic is that so frequently we think of God as someone who is way out there
so how do we enter into an intimate relationship with someone who is so far
away, so removed? But, actually, God is right in our midst. He works in us and
through us. We see God at work in the events and people around us. I think that
when we begin to understand that God is so close then it's much easier to talk
with Him, to listen to Him, to enter into a very intimate relationship with Him.
These are just some of the ideas that I wanted to share with the readers of that
magazine.
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