Ignatian spirituality, a tool to a lasting and significant commitment to the Kingdom of God

During the novitiate at the beginning of my formation, I do not remember that we were bombarded by the terminology of Ignatian spirituality. Did I hear the words “principle and foundation, the Kingdom, election, consolation and desolation, etc.”? Not very often. We were constantly told about “the Father’s plan, the central place of Jesus Christ, availability to God, the importance of our affectivity and of becoming ourselves”. For me, it is clear that our formators did not teach us Ignatian spirituality as an academic subject. They introduced us to it and made us walk our first steps in it. And we have understood that Ignatian spirituality is not a spirituality of devotion, but of commitment with all our gifts in the endeavour of the mission. And here we are launched for theology (without stage at that time) and then appointed for our respective missions.

Did I really think about Ignatian spirituality during my first years of apostolate? The blunt answer is “no.” It was rather a question of learning the language and beginning the missionary apostolate with the guidance of the community that welcomed me. However, I do not affirm that this spirituality was completely outside my universe. Rather, it constituted my universe without being aware of it. In fact, the exam of conscience and daily revision of life have been instruments of personal growth, and of personal closeness to the One who called me to his service. Moreover, the issue of obedience to God and superiors has never turned into a tug-of-war competition between God, superiors, and myself. It took root in me through living many circumstances, tasks, personal, community and missionary, with this recurring phrase in me: “Lord, I don’t know whether this situation is your will, but I know it’s not mine.” It does not have the intensity or depth of self-offering to God (Spiritual Exercises, no. 98). But it still made me move in the right direction.

Prayer and self-knowledge were the daily rendez-vous through their intertwining. Prayer allowed me to get to know myself better and to meet the daily missionary challenges. Knowing myself helped me to pray first and then to pray better by opening myself to others and to the Lord, saying to myself: “John, you know yourself. If you don’t pray in the morning, forget about meditation.” This is what has allowed me to persevere and serve until now.

The elements of Ignatian spirituality became clearer to me when I was called to serve the mission in the houses of formation, to initiate and inspire young men in their desire to commit themselves to the Lord and discern their vocation. Readings, sessions and courses have enabled me to distinguish and name the different principles that St. Ignatius has left us.

Ignatian spirituality remains very relevant today. It invites the person to have a personal experience of the living God. It accomplishes this task by means of sure points of reference: love of God, perception of one’s own limitations and sins, the need for conversion, the “principle and foundation” leading to the profound freedom called indifference in Ignatian language, the human and spiritual qualities required for a lasting and significant commitment to the Kingdom of God in following Jesus Christ. All these ingredients forge the unity of the life project.

In addition, Ignatian spirituality proposes concrete measures to put into practice the commitment that the person desires to live and to which he or she is called by Jesus Christ. It suggests prayer exercises that involve all aspects of the person, daily exam of conscience to discern the presence of the Lord in daily life, principles of discernment, decision-making and faithfulness.

We are not faced with a spiritual system of thought, or spiritual ideology. It is an adventure of love between the person and his Creator as time passes. It makes us desire God’s presence in us and in the world, generates the desire to be holy and to become disciples of Christ. It makes us available for a faithful commitment in the Lord’s vineyard and in the world around us.

Ignatian spirituality inspires by its contents. St. Ignatius places much emphasis on the incarnation of the Son of God as a key to intimacy in the Holy Spirit with the Father and Jesus Christ during our lives. The situations experienced by Jesus, his daily difficulties and his teachings offer a concrete example of life and committed presence with the People of God. I see today that my presence with the people I meet, my witnessing and my preaching have been shaped by it.

I conclude with Ephesians 3 (4-21)

 “I kneel before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and in earth is named, that he may grant you in accord with the accord of the riches of his glory, to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in the inner self, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; that you rooted and grounded in love may have strength to comprehend with all the holy ones what is the breadth and length and height and depth; and to know the love od Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with the fullness of God.”

By: Jean Lamonde, M.Afr.

Epiphany of the Lord

Isaiah 60:1-6 / Psalm 71 (72) / Ephesians 3:2-3, 5-6 / Matthew 2:1-12

Today we celebrate the Solemnity of the Epiphany of the Lord. This word, which comes from Greek, means “manifestation”. Indeed, by allowing himself to be discovered by the Magi, the Lord manifests himself to the world and to the whole universe, represented by the Magi who came from the East.

The first reading is taken from ‘Third Isaiah’ (the author to whom chapters 56-66 of the Book of Isaiah are attributed). This section was written after the return from exile, i.e. after 538 BC. The author, who ministered to a discouraged people, gives them hope and encourages them to continue to hope in the Lord, because God is faithful to his word. The symbol of the sun rising over Jerusalem and illuminating the hill of Zion illustrates the fulfilment of God’s promises. As he looks to the future, this prophet sees Jerusalem become the light of the world.

With the days of exile now over, Jerusalem must resume its dual role: symbol of the unity of believers in YHWH and visible sign of God’s presence among his people. The light rising over the city symbolises this glory and God’s presence among his people. In this futuristic vision of Third Isaiah, the gathering in Jerusalem will no longer be limited to the Israelites but will include all the nations of the earth. Even pagans and their kings will flock to Jerusalem with gifts. For us Christians today, the Church is that Jerusalem gathering together different peoples without discrimination. It is a symbol of the unity of all Christians in Christ and a sign of God’s presence among his people.

In the second reading, Paul explains the mystery of the pagans’ introduction into the Church. The pagans are also called to access the revelation of God’s mystery in Jesus Christ. The light brought by Christ is intended for the whole world, not just for the Jews. Now, the Gentiles too can share in eternal life. In his immense love, God had already destined us for salvation through Christ even before we existed. The Holy Spirit helps us to enter into this mystery. We must cooperate with the grace of the Holy Spirit. Epiphany is not a thing of the past; it is a reality that we must live every day.

In the Gospel, Jesus reveals himself to wise men (magi, according to the Gospel) who have come from afar. He reveals himself as the light of the world. Contrary to the beliefs of the time, Jesus’ revelation to foreigners has made salvation no longer limited to a single nation but open to all. Here again, as in the first and second readings, the Gospel signifies the universal nature of salvation. From now on, all cultures will have access to faith in God and the salvation he brings in Jesus Christ. Everyone is invited to know their Saviour and live in communion with him.

The Magi recognised a sign from God: one star among many. God always gives us signs: it is up to us to discover his sign amongst all the signs around us.

Each of us is the face of God today, and each of us, through our way of life, is invited to reveal the face of God to others. Let us reveal something of God’s face. We should all ask ourselves: do the people around me sense something of God’s presence in me?

Today’s Gospel uses a highly symbolic language.

It tells of the Magi’s visit to Bethlehem. The text does not mention their number, names, or nationalities. It simply says ‘Magi from the East’. Tradition tells us that there were three of them: Melchior, Caspar, and Balthazar.

In ancient times, it was believed that the appearance of a star announced the birth of an important person. The brightness of the star was related to the greatness of the person.

Who are the Magi? This term may evoke specific categories of people: priests, magicians, kings, astrologers, wise men…

Astrologers interpret world events by studying the position of the stars.

The star that these Magi saw signified the birth of a king. They allowed themselves to be guided by the light of this star. The same applies to us as believers: we must allow ourselves to be guided by God’s light. Christ is our Light. The Word of God is our light, the lamp for our steps: ‘Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light for my path’ (Psalm 119:105). ‘I am the light of the world,’ says Jesus in John 8:12.

The Magi go to the religious authorities in Jerusalem to verify the authenticity of their revelation. As soon as they arrive at King Herod’s palace, he summons the chief priests and scribes to examine the Holy Scriptures… Indeed, the verification is done, and a prophecy confirms the Magi’s revelation in Micah 5:1-5. Here we see the importance of always returning to the source of revelation: the Word of God, but also of verifying revelations with religious authorities to be sure there is no mistake. Otherwise, we risk falling into charlatanism…

It is essential to discern whether revelations and prophecies align with the Word of God and the life of Christ. Currently, there are too many false revelations and prophecies, some of which may be diabolical…

Herod the Great is upset by the news of the birth of a king. He is afraid of a tiny child, Jesus. The fear of losing power consumes him. Fear is not a good advisor! Caught up in his fear, the king orders the execution of all children under the age of two. When we are afraid of losing power, we are prepared to do anything, even kill those who pose a threat to our control. We think we are all-powerful, but one day we will lose that power. History is there to confirm this. Those who think they are all-powerful today will not be so tomorrow; death will take them away…

When they arrive in Bethlehem, they bow down before the child. This is a gesture of worship. Pagans recognise the presence of God in a child, while the Jews, until now, have not recognised Jesus as the Messiah sent by God. They are still waiting for him!

These magi express their respect for God. What is our attitude towards God? Do we show respect in the house of God? How do we receive the Eucharist? How do we express our respect for this God who is present in every human being, especially in the poor?

They present:

GOLD: a symbol of wealth. This is what one gives to a king. All wealth comes from God, and it is to him that we must give it back. God is rich in mercy.

INCENSE: This is what we offer to God with the prayers of the faithful: “Then another angel came and stood at the altar, holding a golden censer. He was given much incense to offer, with the prayers of all the saints, on the golden altar before the throne. And the smoke of the incense rose before God, together with the prayers of the saints” (Rev 8:3-4). (See also Ps 141:2; Exodus 30:8 and Lev 2:1-2)

MYRRH: A prophetic gesture announcing the death of Christ, myrrh is offered to embalm the body of Christ. Here it is the passion, death and resurrection of Christ that are announced. The Paschal mystery is already present in the mystery of Christmas. The little child whom the Magi discover already carries within him the salvation of the world.

After their gesture, the Magi are warned not to return by the same route; they must take a different one. As soon as we encounter God, we must choose another path: conversion (metanoia: a change of direction). We must make a radical change…

The solemnity we celebrate today encourages us to see each encounter as a visitation, an epiphany of God. Each time we encounter a living being, we encounter God through that being… Each person must become an epiphany for others.

To conclude, I suggest we meditate on the hymn from the second vespers of this solemnity: ‘In the East, the star has appeared’. We find this hymn in the breviary and online. Let’s meditate on the last sentence of each stanza: happy is the heart that desires Jesus! Happy is the heart that seeks Jesus! Happy is the heart that discovers Jesus! Happy is the heart that gives itself to Jesus! Happy is the heart that proclaims Jesus.

By: Arsène Kapya, M.Afr.

I am not a king. I am the star of Bethlehem

I have no crown, I carry no gold, frankincense, or myrrh. I do not descend from caravans, nor do I rest in palaces. And yet, I have a mission that only I can fulfil. I do not walk the earth, for my place is in heaven. My mission is not to arrive at the manger, but to point the way to it. I have always known that we are not all called to be protagonists; some of us exist to guide, not to be applauded.

I saw the Magi advance, doubt, tire. I could neither speak to them, nor carry their burden, nor decide for them. My mission was more humble and more demanding: to remain faithful, night after night, without straying, even if no one was watching me. There were times when I wanted to get closer, to do more, to be more. But I understood that if I abandoned my place, they would get lost. My value did not lie in my freedom of movement, but in my constancy.

When the Three Wise Men looked up for the first time, they weren’t just looking for a child: they were looking for something to believe in. Each one had different memories in their hearts.

I could see Melchior carrying the weight of sadness from saying goodbye. He’d left his home and his family, and more than once at night, he’d had doubts. So, I shone a little brighter, not to erase his pain, but to remind him that to love is also to know when to leave when the call comes.

I accompanied Caspar in his curious joy. Each new village was a surprise, each kind gesture, a small celebration. When he laughed, my light seemed to dance, for shared joy lightens the journey and strengthens the step.

I supported Balthazar in the difficult moments of the journey: fatigue, the mistrust of those who did not understand his quest, unanswered questions. In those moments, my light did not shout; it simply remained there. Sometimes that is all it takes to keep going.

There were windy days and silent nights. There was laughter around the fire and tears hidden under coats. I did not choose for them, but I showed them the way: when pride clouded the path, I stood still; when hope faltered, I resumed my walk.

And in the end, when they arrived at the manger, they understood that the journey had changed them not only because they had arrived, but also because of the way they had walked: with faith in sadness, gratitude in joy, and trust even without understanding everything.

I did not receive any gifts, and I did not worship the Child on my knees. However, when I stopped above Bethlehem and saw the smallest but also the brightest light in the world, I knew that my mission was accomplished. Not for having arrived, but for having guided.

Today, I continue to shine. Not always like a star in the sky, but like a good idea, a supportive person, a fair decision; because every life is a journey, and even between sadness and happiness, there is always a light ready to guide us. When you discover your mission and faithfully carry it out, even from afar, you also participate in the miracle of Epiphany: God allows himself to be found and transforms those who accept to follow his light.

By: Salvador Muñoz-Ledo R., M.Afr.

Ignatian Spirituality in Daily Life

Understanding “Ignatian Spirituality”

First, let us remember that Ignatian spirituality is a spirituality of discernment, of choice. We meditate on the Word of God for decisive and important decisions in our lives. This spirituality is rooted in the Word of God, which touches our lives, allowing us to converse with God as a friend speaks to a friend. God created, forgives, accepts, and loves us unconditionally. He calls us to unite with Him. He is active in the world and our lives. His creation is good and reflects His presence. Thus, we must revere Him through charity, service, and contemplation.

Ignatian spirituality engages us in the world by encouraging us to bear witness to our faith and our joy of believing alongside our brothers and sisters. It forges in us a personal love for Jesus and devotion to the Church through commitment to the well-being of our fellow human beings, especially those on the peripheries of society.

We are called to pray and discern continually, not forgetting that God deals directly with each person individually, respecting their freedom. God is distinct from His creation, which serves as a means for the love and service of God and others. We are also called to free ourselves from disordered attachments to things created and focus on the love of God while distinguishing divine action from the distractions that undermine freedom and love.

Ignatian spirituality is also a Eucharistic and Trinitarian spirituality: the Father sends us with the Son into the world, guided by the Holy Spirit.

A Viewpoint on Ignatian Spirituality in Today’s World…

Ignatian spirituality is practised by many men and women in the world today. It helps many people to unite with God in everyday life. It is an essential means of Christian spiritual experience. It remains relevant in religious life to such an extent that many Institutes of Consecrated Life and pious associations identify with it.

…and in my Mission with the Charism of our Apostolic Society

Our charism is identified by three fundamental principles: mission, dialogue and communion. It is characterised in particular by a spirituality of mission with a special passion for the African world, both on the African continent and in other continents, through prophetic witness in commitments to Justice, Peace, and the Integrity of Creation. A spirituality of communion also characterises our charism through living in a prophetic community and a dialogue of life and even theology with Muslims and Christians of other Churches.

I draw on elements of Ignatian spirituality, such as discernment and the search for divine action, in all my experiences and daily life to live out my life as a Missionary of Africa.

The daily practice of self-examination enables me to distinguish the unfolding of divine grace from distractions, thereby uniting myself more closely with God by being aware of my state of mind at all times. This exercise enables me to contemplate divine grace in my brothers and sisters with whom I live and interact daily. As a Eucharistic and Trinitarian spirituality, Ignatian spirituality strengthens my love of God and my commitment to the sacrificial following of Christ.

Examples of where Ignatian spirituality has played a key role

By way of example, I would like to share my faith in the divine action in men and women, regardless of their religious orientation. As a missionary in the parish, I collaborated with Muslims and non-believers towards the realisation of social projects for health and education within the Church of Kasongo. I have even accepted being accommodated by a Muslim family more than once during my parish pastoral tours.

In my current role of accompanying aspiring missionaries, I apply the principles of discernment outlined by Saint Ignatius in training young people, especially at pivotal moments in their life orientation.

The bicentenary of Lavigerie and the possibility of speaking of a “Lavigerian spirituality”

Cardinal Lavigerie undoubtedly drew inspiration from the Holy Spirit to initiate the mission thousands of men and women carried out in the African world, primarily through the Society of Missionaries of Africa and the Congregation of the Missionary Sisters of Our Lady of Africa. In this regard, we could speak of “Lavigerian spirituality” because our two Institutes, although living Ignatian spirituality, have unique characteristics in the application of Ignatian exercises, as guided by the guidelines of missionary life established by Lavigerie, our founder.

We live by the specific directives of Lavigerie, such as “being crazy about Christ” and “making ourselves all things to all men”. This is how we justify our presence in the existential peripheries. Lavigerie always insisted that we have a team spirit, which justifies the diverse composition of our communities (interculturality) and also the primacy of community life in our missionary life.

Lavigerie wanted the Blessed Virgin Mary to occupy an important place in our missionary life. Thus, we are known for our devotion to Mary, Our Lady of Africa: the men wear the rosary as their insignia, and the women have Our Lady of Africa in the very name of their congregation.

However, to speak of a typically Lavigerian spirituality, there is still the challenge of formally grouping Lavigerie’s spiritual directives, a process that began with the celebration of the bicentenary of Lavigerie’s birth with meditations on the experiences of Lavigerie’s own life as a man of faith and founder of our two missionary institutes

Integrating prayer into my daily activities

My daily life is given rhythm by personal and community prayer. My current ministry of being present in the House of Formation allows me to maintain a regular prayer life. I thank God for giving me the opportunity to work in a structured environment where everything goes according to established timetables. I have the joy of sharing various moments of spiritual life with aspirants and my confreres on the formation team and with other community members.

By: Bertin Bouda, M.Afr.

The Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph

The Holy Family a Model for All Families!

Ecclesiasticus 3:2-6,12-14 / Psalm 127(128) / Colossians 3:12-21 / Matthew 2:13-15,19-23

Brothers and sisters in Christ, on this Feast of the Holy Family, the Word of God turns our eyes toward the most sacred treasure God has placed in human hands: the family. The Gospel presents Mary and Joseph protecting the Child Jesus as they flee into Egypt, showing us that even the holiest families face fear, danger, and instability. They lived in the uncertainty of exile, yet their faith, courage, and obedience sustained them. The holy family reminds us that sanctity in family life is not measured by perfection or the absence of difficulties, but by unity, sacrifice, fidelity to God, and a deep sense of responsibility toward one another. Sirach reminds us of the sacred bond between parents and children: “Those who fear the Lord honour their parents” (Sir 3:2). Parents are called to guide, protect, and form their children, and children are called to honour, respect, and care for their parents, especially in moments of weakness and old age (Sir 3:6, 12–14). Saint Paul continues this invitation by calling us to clothe ourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, patience and above all love, virtues that are not optional in a home but essential for peace and harmony (Col 3:12–14). He further instructs parents not to provoke their children, but to nurture them in the discipline and instruction of the Lord (Col 3:21), reminding us that authority in the family must be exercised with care, guidance, and tenderness, not domination or harshness.

Today more than ever, families face real challenges. The erosion of core values, the breakdown of communication, envy, resentment, and the busyness of life steal precious time from those who matter most. Often, families gather only for funerals or emergencies and rarely for moments of genuine joy. We are called to ask ourselves: do we truly celebrate the presence of our loved ones, support them in their endeavours, and honour their efforts, whether small or great? Sirach exhorts children to care for their parents in old age, recognizing the sacrifices that brought them life and sustenance (Sir 3:12). Sometimes just being together in peace, without hatred, competition, hidden grudges or family quarrels, is enough reason to rejoice. Let us not only be people who wish peace to the dead while forgetting to bring peace to the living. True peace must begin in our homes now, modelled on the peace and trust of Mary and Joseph, and ultimately flowing from the heart of Christ.

The Holy Family teaches us that parents have a sacred mission: to make their children a priority, to guide them with love, and to be truly present. Work, ambition, and social obligations must never replace or suffocate family responsibility. Familiaris Consortio reminds us that “the family is the primary and vital cell of society and the Church” (FC, 17), emphasizing the role of parents as the first educators of faith and virtue. Children, too, must honour their parents, listen to them, and allow themselves to be formed. A child who refuses guidance weakens the foundation of the home, just as a parent who neglects presence and affection wounds the heart of the family. Every Christian home is called to be a domestic church, a place where faith, forgiveness, dialogue, and tenderness are lived each day. In a domestic church, the Eucharist celebrated together and prayers offered as a family become a school of love and virtue, forming hearts capable of receiving Christ and sharing His love with the world (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1656–1658).

We also note that the family is a school of resilience. In Matthew’s Gospel, Joseph obeyed the angel’s command and took Mary and Jesus to Egypt to protect the Child (Mt 2:13–15). Later, he returned when God permitted, settling in Nazareth (Mt 2:19–23). These movements were not easy: they involved sacrifice, uncertainty, and risk. Yet, his steadfastness, discernment, and protective love demonstrate that holiness in family life is lived moment by moment, often unseen and unrecognized. Similarly, our families are often called to sacrifices, working long hours, adjusting schedules, caring for elderly parents, comforting children in fear or doubt, and in these acts, holiness is woven into everyday life.

Saint Paul’s instructions in Colossians 3 continue to echo in our homes: clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, patience, and above all love. Bear with one another, forgive grievances as the Lord has forgiven you, and let the peace of Christ reign in your hearts (Col 3:12–15). These virtues are not theoretical ideals but practical dispositions to be lived daily: a gentle word to a tired child, patience when disagreements arise, forgiveness after conflicts, and joy in small acts of generosity. Love becomes the glue that binds the family together, just as it bound Mary, Joseph, and Jesus, even in danger or exile.

The human dimension of the family cannot be neglected. Families experience fatigue, frustration, and misunderstanding. There are moments of jealousy, miscommunication, or unmet expectations. Yet Scripture repeatedly reminds us that families are sacred because they are the primary context where human love meets divine love (Eph 5:25–33). Parents are invited to love selflessly, modelling Christ’s love for the Church, while children are called to trust, honour, and respond to that guidance. Pope John Paul II, in his reflections on the family, emphasized that “the family is the place in which children are initiated into life, love, and faith” (Familiaris Consortio, 36). This sacred trust requires patience, courage, humility, and perseverance, and it is within these struggles that families grow in holiness and intimacy with God.

As we celebrate Holy Family Sunday, let us ask the Lord to help us rebuild and strengthen our family relationships with sincerity. May we learn to love more deeply, forgive more generously, celebrate more joyfully, and support one another without envy or resentment. May our homes become places where peace reigns, where each member is valued and cherished, and where faith, prayer, and mercy are ever-present. Let Mary, Joseph, and the Child Jesus intercede for all our families, that our homes may resemble the home of Nazareth: simple, united, faithful, and filled with the presence of God. And may our families, nurtured in love and virtue, become beacons of hope, teaching the world that holiness is possible in ordinary human relationships.

Happy Holy Family Sunday!

By: Toby Ndiukwu, M.Afr.

Mass during the day of the Nativity of the Lord Jesus Christ

Isaiah 52:7-10/ Psalm 97 (98) / Hebrews 1:1-6/ John 1:1-18

“How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings glad tidings, announcing peace…” we hear in today’s first reading. It is hard not to linger over these words in a moment like ours, when the grey wolf, the ancient emblem of Mars, the god of war, seems to roam through every news broadcast from across the globe. And yet, paradoxically, peace has once again become a fresh and urgent longing. The desire for peace is beginning to mark the rhythm of a new era struggling to be born.

Not long ago, when I visited parishes in Poland to animate the missionary spirit of the local Church, I would speak of Africa as a continent rising to its feet. But in recent times we have been hearing more and more about the flames of war, not only beyond Poland’s eastern border, but also from Africa itself. Even in countries long considered stable, where peace and the spirit of ubuntu stand among the highest of values, people are beginning to express anger and deep frustration, escalating their unrest into open resistance and street demonstrations. And yet, the Good News of peace proclaimed in today’s Liturgy of the Word no longer strikes me as dissonant or naïve. Why?

This Advent, I found myself particularly moved by Pope Leo XIV’s pilgrimage to Turkey, and even more so to Lebanon, a country I know little about, yet one that kept returning to my mind as I preached Advent retreats to students at the Medical University of Lublin. The students surprised me by placing an icon of St. Charbel in the chapel. They had been inspired by the pope’s pilgrimage to his tomb in Lebanon. Though I had prepared a different theme, their gesture and our conversations drew me into their fascination. They were watching the papal pilgrimage with far greater attention than many priests I know.

I realized that I knew very little about St. Charbel, only what the Pope had said about him in Lebanon. But as I spoke with the students, another Lebanese figure resurfaced in my memory: Nassim Nicholas Taleb, whose book The Black Swan I had read years ago. He wrote that it was the history of his own homeland that inspired his famous metaphor of the Black Swan, those unusual events that should not occur, and yet do occur, reshaping our reality and sometimes redirecting the course of history. And once they happen, they force us to reinterpret even those elements of life that once seemed obvious and unquestionable.

Moments like these compel us to re-examine our deepest assumptions, our habits of mind, and the very lens through which we interpret the spiritual depths of our experience. Yet perhaps it is not simply about experience alone. For as Taleb reminds us, the turkey who is fed each day at the same hour, who grows fatter and is given ever more feed, may conclude, reasonably and based on experience, that humankind is the best friend a turkey could have. And he believes so, Taleb writes, until the Wednesday afternoon before Thanksgiving (perhaps the turkey had a US citizenship). Then the impossible happens. I quoted to the students that striking line: “The hand that feeds you may be the hand that wrings your neck.”

Taleb was inspired by the history of his country, a land that had known thirteen centuries of peace, despite political domination by Syria, despite its mosaic of cultures, despite the coexistence of many Christian rites and rival branches of Islam. Many believed, this long peace to be the fruit of some distinctive feature of their culture. And yet it all ended in a single afternoon.

As I preached those Advent retreats, I understood more clearly why the Pope chose Lebanon for his first journey. Christianity does not shield us with illusions. The God-Man came to proclaim peace; He overcame sin, but He did not eliminate sinful people, who must from time to time confront the consequences of their choices.

And there is something more. We may look upon the coming of Jesus as an event that bears every mark of a Black Swan, a divine interruption that reshapes the world and forces us to reimagine reality itself. The people of Israel expected a Messiah powerful enough to subdue the mighty and establish a new order. Instead, He comes into a poor family on the margins of an empire. He is born of a Woman who “had not known a man”; something that, by the logic of human experience, should not have happened. And yet it did. And those who believed, simple people whose humble lives had taught them to keep their hearts open even to the impossible, received a lesson that Love is greater than the power of the mighty, that Love is God.

Today’s Gospel from St. John is precisely an attempt to ponder and articulate the meaning of this great mystery. In theology we call it theology from above, an invitation to lift our gaze, to interpret earthly realities in the light of divine initiative. But such theology is never meant to be merely repeated. It is meant to stir us, people of the 21st century, shaped by experiences vastly different from those of Jesus’ contemporaries, to rediscover and rearticulate the meaning of God’s entry not only into human history, but into our personal history.

If we fail to do this, we risk becoming like the turkey who speaks of peace on the Wednesday afternoon before a feast, whatever feast it may be, depending on where we stand on the day when “the axe is laid to the root.”

By: Tomasz Podrazik, M.Afr.

Midnight Mass of the Nativity of the Lord Jesus Christ

Isaiah 9:1-7 / Psalm 95(96) / Titus 2:11-14 / Luke 2:1-14

Not every day is Christmas, but every day is perfect for thanking the Lord for his presence among us. Why?

In the first reading, from the book of Isaiah (Is 9:1-6), a promise of liberation and hope is described for a people living in darkness. In the past, there are many sins of an unfaithful people: wars and oppression, disloyalty and the search for “gods” who have neither eyes nor hearts. Leaving behind the dark side of history, Isaiah’s prophecy promises a hopeful future. Although it does not specify when this will happen, the New Testament identifies it with the birth of Jesus of Nazareth. That same prophecy also refers to one of the greatest and most mysterious truths in the Bible: the incarnation, “For a child is born to us, a son is given us; upon his shoulder dominion rests”. God would become part of the human race. A newborn child would be called “Mighty God, Everlasting Father”. The text shows both the humanity and divinity of Jesus, who came to save the world, to reconcile humanity with the heavenly Father, and to establish an eternal kingdom of justice and peace.

In the second reading, from St Paul’s letter to Titus (2:11-14), we read with gratitude that God’s grace has been revealed for the salvation of all humanity and not just for the people of Israel. In this text, Paul speaks briefly about the manifestation of God’s grace, but in reality he covers all aspects of it: The manifestation of grace covers the entire life and ministry of Jesus Christ, from the birth of Jesus, through the cross and to the resurrection; from Bethlehem to the Mount of Olives; from the heavens opening when the shepherds heard the voices of the angels singing, to the heavens opening when the disciples looked up and saw him disappear into the clouds of heaven.

In today’s Gospel reading from Luke (2:1-14), the coming of Almighty God contrasts with the birth of a vulnerable newborn. The baby born in Bethlehem in human flesh is the same one who comes as the Divine Word that gives life in abundance. This is the greatest miracle that God has performed: a weak, dependent, poor, simple and needy child embodies all the greatness of God the Father.

If we listen carefully to this passage from the Gospel, we see that not everything revolves around Jesus. We are told that he was wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger. We are told where he was born and who his parents are. We are also told that the shepherds came to worship him and that a choir of angels in heaven praised God. Jesus is silent, he does not move, and yet everyone around him moves and speaks. He is at the centre; everything comes from him and goes to him. A tiny, silent newborn, but capable of giving meaning to everything that happens around him, drawing everyone to him, to his simplicity, humility and poverty.

It is Christmas not because everything is shiny, it is Christmas because Jesus wants to and can be at the centre of our lives. We can no longer ignore our God who eagerly seeks our friendship, our response of love. In Christ, God the Father wants to be recognised today in the weak, the needy and the marginalised. Thanks to his birth, humans can be more like brothers and sisters and can also share his divine nature, because God himself shares in our human nature.

Each of us knows well what that means in our reality here and now. Let us open our hearts to him and entrust to him all our joys and sorrows, hopes and fears, desires and frustrations. Everything, for he has taken everything upon himself to heal it, reconcile it and make it bear fruit in abundance. 

I sincerely believe that every one of us carries within us a seed of divinity that makes us worthy of being children of God and capable of loving according to His divine plan. Therefore, as proclaimed in today’s psalm (Ps 95 (96)): “Sing to the Lord a new song; sing to the Lord, all the earth. Sing to the Lord; bless his name”.

By: Salvador Muñoz-Ledo, M.Afr.

Fourth Sunday of Advent Year A

Isaiah 7:10-14 / Psalm 23(24) / Romans 1:1-7 / Matthew 1:18-24

God can sometimes surprise us and disrupt our habits, our plans, our comfort and even our understanding of our relationship with him.

King Ahaz was somewhat shaken when God said to him, “Ask for a sign from your God”. According to the spirituality I was taught, I would have responded like Ahaz: “No, I will not put the Lord to the test.”

But here’s the thing… When God asks for something, we must respond positively, even if his request is sometimes incomprehensible or contrary to what we have learned.

Ahaz then receives this prophecy: “The Lord himself will give you a sign. Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Emmanuel, which means “God with us”.

The history of humanity is shaken. God with us will become one of us. His announcement will take a few centuries to be fulfilled, but it is already shaping the hopes of an entire people. God has taken the initiative to change the world, but it requires a considerable investment on his part. God Almighty, the creator of heaven and earth, the King of kings, the Prince of life, will one day come knocking at the door of our humanity to be born as a child, humble and lying in a manger.

The promise is fulfilled a few centuries later. We see Joseph, a righteous man, ready to send his betrothed away in secret. Mary has told him about the great mystery within her. She is pregnant by the Holy Spirit. Joseph, a righteous man, believes Mary. He does not doubt her. She has not been unfaithful to him. It is too great a mystery. If she is pregnant by the Holy Spirit, he, Joseph, cannot claim paternity of the child of God. He does not feel worthy of it.

It is then that God comes to him and entrusts him with the mission of taking care of Mary and the child who will be born. And it is he who will even give him the name Jesus, Emmanuel, God-with-us. In this way, he will assert his paternal authority over the child.

This is indeed the heart of Paul’s message to the Romans: “This gospel, which God promised beforehand through his prophets, concerns his Son, who was born of the seed of David according to the flesh”.

This gospel is the good news already announced by the prophet Isaiah to King Ahaz. This Son, Emmanuel, Jesus, was born of the seed of David, through Joseph, who will give him his name.

And Paul announces it to all the pagan nations, to all nations other than Israel, to us who still receive the good news today.

This good news overwhelmed Joseph. He responded positively to God’s call, even though the mystery was far too great for his fragile human nature to bear.
Joseph did as the angel of the Lord had commanded him. He took his wife and her unborn child into his home.

Does this good news still move us today? Does it affect our habits, our comfort, the way we understand our relationship with God?

A few days before the birth of this God-with-us, it is good to ask ourselves this question. We are so used to celebrating Christmas that there is a real risk of treating it as routine.

Let us therefore allow ourselves to be overwhelmed by this good news. God, the Almighty, became one of us, human, like us in every way except sin. God Almighty, in Jesus, is here among us, close to us, one of us. It is unimaginable! What humility from God! The risk he takes is also enormous: the risk of rejection and death! But that is love, true love without limits, without return. A completely free love is given to us in Jesus.

God’s promise was thus fulfilled in Jesus, Emmanuel, God-with-us. And it continues to be fulfilled day after day. God never ceases to come to us, becoming incarnate in us every day. God never ceases to be God-with-us, close to all those who labour, to those who wait for a sign of his love.

Jesus is undoubtedly there at our door, standing beside someone in need, a forgotten and rejected soul. As we walk through our city, our neighbourhood, and our village, we need to stay alert. We shouldn’t close our eyes to the unexpected, to the person who, in Jesus, will catch our attention and ask us for a sign of love.

Christmas is every day when we open our hearts and accept being shaken out of our habits, when we respond, like Joseph, positively to a mission that God entrusts to us and which takes us out of our usual comfort zone and opens us up to some unexpected love to give, a sign not to refuse when God asks us to give it.

To make sure that Christmas is not just a routine, but a new event worthy of celebration, let us open our hearts to the unexpected.

By: Georges Jacques, M.Afr.

In the Spirit of Lavigerie: Living Simply, Trusting Deeply

There are moments in our missionary journey when the Gospel calls us not only to preach with words, but to speak with our lives. For me, living the missionary vocation today means striving to embody the legacy of Cardinal Charles Lavigerie in a world far removed from his but still deeply shaped by his spirit. When I consider the theme “Material life and mission,” I find myself returning again and again to one word that has become a cornerstone in our Society: simplicity.

A Simple Lifestyle: The Freedom of the Gospel

Lavigerie did not envision missionaries as mere agents of charity or doctrine. He envisioned men entirely given to Christ, free from worldly attachments, and rooted in the people they served. To him, simplicity was not an economic status; it was a spiritual orientation a freedom of heart.

For me, living simply means constantly discerning: What do I really need to serve the mission? It is not about embracing poverty for its own sake, but about aligning our lives with the values of the Kingdom. It is about uncluttering our hearts, so we may be more available to the Spirit and to the people we serve.

Simplicity as Prophetic Witness

The consumerism of our time is not only economic; it is also spiritual. It feeds the illusion that we are self-sufficient, that happiness comes from accumulation, and that comfort is the measure of success. In such a world, our choice to live simply becomes a prophetic sign.

I’ve often witnessed how local communities intuitively understand when a missionary truly shares their life. They may not articulate it in theological terms, but they recognize humility, presence, and authenticity. This silent testimony, more than words, is what draws people to the Gospel.

Poverty and Mission: Holding the Tension

Yet I must confess, this is not always easy. Mission requires resources. Formation houses, schools, dispensaries, vehicles all these need funding. How do we reconcile evangelical poverty with such material needs?

I have learned that the answer lies not in having less, but in owning less, in being stewards, not possessors. As Lavigerie once wrote, “We must have only what is necessary for the mission and no more.” There is freedom in that phrase. It allows for what the mission truly requires while keeping our hearts detached and open.

Between Autonomy and Aid: the Path of Communion

One of the challenges we face today is the balance between financial autonomy and dependence on external aid. Our Founder accepted the generous support of European benefactors, but he was clear: the mission must not be shaped by the hand that funds it.

In our time, I believe we must cultivate a spirit of communion both in giving and in receiving. We work toward greater financial autonomy, not because we want to isolate ourselves, but because we want to take responsibility for our mission. But this autonomy must never make us forget the grace of interdependence in the Body of Christ.

Managing Well, Trusting Fully

Finally, I believe the key lies in managing our resources well but always with a spirit of trust. Divine providence is not an excuse for poor planning; nor is planning a substitute for faith. In my own ministry, I have seen how initiatives born in prayer, discernment, and fraternal collaboration bear fruit.

I think of communities that installed solar panels, not only to reduce costs but to respect creation. Others have created local solidarity funds to support mission partners in need. Still others have opted for simple housing and limited transport, choosing presence over prestige. These are not just budgetary decisions they are spiritual choices.

Conclusion: Returning to the Spirit of the Founder

The legacy of Lavigerie is not a museum piece; it is a living fire. His vision for our Society was bold, yet grounded in the Cross. He wanted men who would be free, free from fear, free from greed, free to love radically.

I pray that in our time, we may recover this inner freedom. That our lifestyle may not only reflect the poverty of Christ, but radiate the joy of serving Him with undivided hearts. That in the way we handle money, possessions, and planning, we may witness to a God who provides, who sends, and who sustains.

By: Shiby Dominic, M.Afr.

Recycling at Christmas : A Christmas gift for the earth

At Christmas, we celebrate the birth of Christ; we share and fill our homes with lights, gifts, and joy. But it is also a time when we produce more waste than usual: packaging, boxes, decorations, and food scraps. That is why it is important to remember that the best gift we can give the planet is to take care of it.

We can celebrate Christmas joyfully while caring for the planet. Recycling to create our own decorations not only reduces waste but also stimulates our creativity and encourages us to spend time with our families. Every bottle, cardboard box, or piece of paper that we transform into a unique decoration reminds us that small actions can lead to big changes. Let’s make this holiday season a time to light up our homes while giving the Earth a little rest. Because when we recycle, we’re not just decorating our homes… we’re also building a green future.

Recycling at Christmas is very simple. We can sort paper packaging, reuse bags and boxes, and dispose of glass and plastic in the appropriate containers. We can also opt for reusable decorations and more durable gifts. Giving objects a second life is also a great way to convey values.

Recycling is about cultivating solidarity: by preserving natural resources, we are thinking about the common good rather than immediate comfort. It is an act of respect for nature, for human labour, and for the fragile balance of our environment.

Recycling is about promoting hope. Hope that another model is possible, one that is more sustainable and conscious, where everyone plays a part in the solution. Through this simple act, we learn to consume better, live better together, and build a more responsible future.

When we recycle, we’re reaffirming our responsibility to the planet and to future generations. We’re showing that every little action counts and that our daily choices can have a positive impact. If we all do our part, we can enjoy celebrations that are just as magical, but much more responsible. Let’s celebrate the nativity of Christ with joy… and awareness. The planet deserves a beautiful gift too.

By: Salvador Muñoz-Ledo R., M.Afr.

Missionaries of Africa
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