[Homily given at a Buddhist/Christian Dialogue at Gethsemani Abbey (July 22-27, 1996), during which a Mass was celebrated for all the victims of religious persecutions, having specially in mind our seven brothers of Atlas.]
There are some words of the Gospel that remain for us only nice expressions, until some special event gives them a new and deeper meaning for us. And the expression "to follow Christ" is one of them.
I always loved that phrase. I always thought that it expressed very well the meaning of religious life and of monastic life in particular. But I must confess that its meaning remained somewhat abstract. I saw the expression "following of Christ" as the symbol of a life lived according to Christ's teaching and Christ's examples. That phrase, however, took a very concrete meaning for me a few months ago, at the moment of the abduction and death of our seven monks of Algeria.
A group of about twenty armed terrorists came to the monastery and seized the seven monks whom they found. Then they led them out of their monastery, some of the armed men walking ahead and one of them on each side of each of the monks. In that way they crossed the door of the monastery, walked through the village road and up to the mountain.
To anyone who may have seen the monks at that moment, they seemed to be following a group of terrorists. The monks, however, knew that they were following Christ. In order to follow Christ, several years before, they had entered the monastery. Their following of him now brought them through the same door, but on the way out. Their monastery had been a place where they expressed in many ways love and friendship to the local population. Like Jesus walking though the towns of Galilee, they were now crossing for a last time the village. And they were going to that mountain of Atlas, were so many young idealist Islamists had gone to die, and for whom they had prayed so often with compassion and understanding.
I could have chosen the example of thousands of other victims of religious persecution. I took these ones, because their witness is recent and because I personally knew them and loved them.
This type of ending cannot be improvised. It had to be prepared by a whole life of following of Christ. To be a martyr is to be a witness; and one must be a witness through one's life before being a witness through one's death.
The example of the grain of wheat used by Jesus is striking. A grain of wheat does not have many uses. Either it is ground to become flour or it is put into the ground to die and bear fruit.
Saint Benedict, at the end of his Rule, has this beautiful chapter on mutual obedience, which is the soul of common life: to accept to be eaten up, to accept to do not one's own pleasure but what pleases others, to seek what is good for others and not what is good for oneself -- this is not only following the example of Christ but sharing in Christ's nature.
God is love. And Christ's life and death, was the ultimate manifestation and incarnation of God's love for humankind. The expresssion: "Wherever I am, my servant is" is extremely strong.
In the Chapter on mutual obedience, which I have just mentioned, Benedict quotes the second chapter of the letter to the Philippians, where we find the beautiful canticle: Christ, emptied himself, made himself obedient... Because of that, God exalted him and gave him the name that is above all name: the name of Kurios, of Yahwe, the one can say "I Am" (Ego eimi).
And here Jesus says: Wherever I am (ego eimi) there my servant is, and therefore shares in my divine nature of Kurios. And therefore: "If anyone serves me, my Father will honor him"...
This is our call. Some of us may be called to die for our religious beliefs; but this is very unlikely. All of us, however, are called to live according to our religious beliefs, to be witness, that is, martyrs. And this is realized through a life that is given, a life where we accept to be eaten up, to be the food for others, to die and be buried in more than one way.
Father Christian de Chergé, in his beautiful Testament, was able to see God's face in the face of the one who was going to cut his throat. Let us ask the grace to be able to see God's face not only in all those whom we serve, but also in those who may be using us, and also in all those who may make us die in many small ways.
Christ comes to us in so many disguises! Only grace can make us recognize him in any of them.