Fr. Glenn: Realizing Our Raison d’être
By Fr. Glenn Jones:
Aren't you just soooooo impressed—a little French in the title? It's always fun to throw in some phrases from another language once in a while; it helps a writer look more edjamacated than he done is. A little Latin here, a little French lingo there, to spruce up the column ... a sine qua non lest ennui set in, and then ... adios amigos. Or did you ever read an which seemed to be written by a thesaurus? Who knew that the purpose of language was actually communication?! As the alien-inhabited Mr. Spock said in TOS episode "Is There in Truth No Beauty", "You depend on [language] for so very much. But is any one of you really its master?" Ouch.
But, back to the title, raison d'être is a nice compact phrase meaning (per Google) "reason for being", usually indicating essential purpose.
So ... what is our—your—raison d'être? To make a difference as a great doctor, engineer, scientist, teacher ... or great welder, plumber, electrician, etc., without which the more "white collar" jobs could not function? To make the world a better place, remembering that phrase: "What man IS a man who does not make the world better?"
Most people have pretty common desires: a loving spouse, good and loving kids, comfortable life. Health is always a big one; all of us would likely agree with: "Health and soundness are better than all gold, and a robust body than countless riches." (Sirach 30:15) But what is the common denominator of all the things we do ... in our pursuit of love, fame, wealth, etc.? As mentioned in this column often, the common quest of humanity is: happiness. And what greater happiness is there than fulfilling our raison d'être?
But it's in the pursuit of happiness that sees so many go astray on deceptive paths—paths often futile and/or counterproductive, frustrating their life's dreams and objectives. The addict seeks drugs, the alcoholic his booze, the gambler the quick riches, the love-starved the overnight hookup or affair, etc.—resulting in each being emptier, more bereft of happiness, than before.
Yet a sure path to happiness lay before our very eyes but is very often obscured by innate selfishness ... the desire to be served rather than to serve. Happiness is almost always found simply in: helping others be happy. This is why we want to do something great and be remembered. It's why we cheer superheroes, the courageous and the charitable. It's why we want to make a difference.
This came to mind last week as we Catholics celebrated the annual memorial of St. Vincent de Paul—one who knew his raison d'être. Champion of the poor, he spent his life and priesthood ministering to the less fortunate, devoting himself to Christ whom he saw in the poor, no doubt remembering innumerable Biblical exhortations to charity, especially Jesus describing final judgment: "... the King will say to those at his right hand, 'Come, O blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me ... Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me.'" (Matthew 25:34-40)
St. Vincent de Paul himself was born into poverty in France, ordained a priest in 1600. On a sea voyage, he was captured by African pirates and made a slave for about two years until he escaped and returned to France. Remembering the tribulations he himself had suffered, Vincent began to practice charity to all classes and all ages of persons, and with (St.) Louise de Marillac began the Daughters of Charity—the order, along with the Sisters of Charity, which eventually established a huge network of hospitals around the world, operating even today. Now, significantly due to work of Sts. Vincent and Louise, there are more than 600 hospitals and 1,600 long-term care and other health facilities in all 50 states in the U.S. alone, not even counting their global footprint—many of these associated with the Daughters and Sisters of Charity.
In the Catholic prayers of that day (September 27), there is an extract of St. Vincent's writing in which we see his selflessness and Christ-like teaching:
Even though the poor are often rough and unrefined, we must not judge them from external appearances nor from the mental gifts they seem to have received. On the contrary, if you consider the poor in the light of faith, then you will observe that they are taking the place of the Son of God who chose to be poor...So when we visit the poor and needy, we try to be understanding...We must beg God to pour into our hearts sentiments of pity and compassion...Since [charity] is a noble mistress, we must do whatever she commands. With renewed devotion, then, we must serve the poor...
Despite all his arduous, exhausting work, Vincent's soul nevertheless remained intimately united with God. Though honored by the great ones of the world even during his life, he remained deeply rooted in humility ... giving all he had for love of God and neighbor. He knew that he had made a great difference in countless people's lives, giving him great happiness and peace of mind. He had fulfilled his—and all of our—true raison d'être: to love of God and neighbor ... serving rather than seeking to be served, just as his master before him.
Editor's note: Rev. Glenn Jones is the Vicar General of the Archdiocese of Santa Fe and former pastor of Immaculate Heart of Mary Catholic Church in Los Alamos.
