As dark clouds gather over a closed world, we find ourselves in a moment of crisis: “Ancient conflicts thought long buried are breaking out anew, while instances of a myopic, extremist, resentful and aggressive nationalism are on the rise” (no. 11). In such moments of crisis, the question is not only whether we will come through but also how. As Pope Francis reminds us: “The basic rule of a crisis is that you don’t come out of it the same. If you get through it, you come out better or worse, but never the same”.[1]
Given the way in which the impact of COVID-19 has disrupted nearly every aspect of our lives, it is understandable why some people have described this moment as apocalyptic. However, an apocalypse is not always about the end of the world. The Greek word apokalypsis can also denote the unveiling or revealing of that which was previously hidden. For instance, the ongoing effects of the coronavirus pandemic have brought the fault lines which already existed in our world into sharper relief: “the storm has exposed our vulnerability and uncovered those false and superfluous certainties around which we constructed our daily schedules, our projects, our habits and priorities” (no. 32).
One modern myth which has been exposed by this moment of crisis is the myth of self-sufficiency. As Pope Francis observes, the world was relentlessly moving towards an economy in which it was determined that the freedom of the market alone was sufficient to keep everything secure. “Yet the brutal and unforeseen blow of this uncontrolled pandemic forced us to recover our concern for human beings, for everyone, rather than for the benefit of a few” (no. 33). The present crisis has forced us to recognize the myriad of ways in which we are interconnected and to acknowledge the fact that no one is saved alone. While this moment has cultivated a collective sense that “we are all in this together”, the reality is that those who were already struggling before the pandemic have found themselves in even greater difficulty.
One of the resounding challenges of Fratelli Tutti is the invitation to grapple with the hard truths that the present moment is revealing to us and to turn these towards transforming our dominant power structures. While there has been much talk about a return to “normal”, as Francis reminds us: “Once this health crisis passes, our worst response would be to plunge even more deeply into feverish consumerism and new forms of egotistic self-preservation (no. 35). Ultimately, we will not come out of this moment as we entered it, but we can decide how we allow it to change us.
While many people have chosen to engage in everyday acts of solidarity and to support the efforts of those who have been publicly celebrated as “heroes”, there are those who have sought to exploit this present moment for financial or political gain. In this way the coronavirus pandemic has exposed the moral character of both individuals and entire peoples. Through an Ignatian reading of the parable of the Good Samaritan, Pope Francis invites us to consider how we will act in this moment of crisis. Do we follow the path of the Levite and priest by making a “functional” retreat to preserve the status quo or do we act like the Samaritan and enter into this moment of suffering in order to create a new future? As Pope Francis writes: “To act in a Samaritan way in a crisis means letting myself be struck by what I see, knowing that the suffering will change me”.[2]
One way in which we might interpret Francis’ invitation is as an example of what the Dominican theologian Edward Schillebeeckx called “negative contrast experiences”.[3] According to Schillebeeckx, the sense that there is something fundamentally wrong with the world in which we live is a basic human experience. What we experience as reality is full of contradictions which are the source of the fundamental “no” that men and women say to their actual situation of being-in-this world. In other words, Schillebeeckx identifies indignation as a basic experience of life in the modern world.
However, despite the injustices and meaningless suffering that we encounter in human history, we retain an inexplicable sense that good and not evil will have the final word. It is this resolute orientation towards an alternative future which is the second element of contrast experiences. Schillebeeckx suggests that this openness to another situation has the right to our affirmative “yes”. As a result, the fundamental human “no” to the world as we experience it discloses an “open yes” which is just as intractable as the human “no” but even stronger because this “yes” establishes the basis for acts of resistance. Schillebeeckx maintains that our “open yes” and the actions which proceed from it are sustained by the fragmentary moments in which we experience real meaning and happiness. Thus, Schillebeeckx identifies contrast experiences as a fundamental human experience which provides a rational basis for solidarity between all people and their common commitment to a better future.
Francis’ call to imitate the Good Samaritan is a call to recognise the “negative contrast experience” of being confronted with suffering (image by Philippe Donn: Pexels)
What distinguishes the experience of believers from agnostics is the way in which this basic two-sided experience is interpreted. For Christians, this experience is interpreted through the story of Jesus of Nazareth, in whom death was overcome by life, and as a result the “open yes” takes on a more precise direction. Schillebeeckx concludes that in light of the resurrection of Jesus Christ the fundamental mutterings of humanity turn to a well-founded hope that is rooted in the absolute assurance of God’s saving grace.
To interpret the present moment in terms of a contrast experience is to recognize that it is not sufficient to only oppose that which we disapprove. We must also seek to embody the reality which has the right to our affirmative “yes”. For Francis, this means envisaging and engendering an open world, with a better kind of politics. An alternative future which he proposes can be facilitated by cultivating dialogue and establishing renewed paths of encounter: “Let us arm our children with the weapons of dialogue! Let us teach them to fight the good fight of the culture of encounter!” (no. 217).
To recognize that we have the capacity to direct the course from which we will emerge from this crisis is to acknowledge that God’s creation is not static but still being made. God calls us not to be bystanders in the present moment but active participants in bringing about the fullness of creation. From this perspective, we can receive the discomfort and unease that we are all currently experiencing as a healthy restlessness that is stirring us into action. The question is what direction such action will take: will we continue along the path of hyperconnected collapse or will we interpret our restlessness as the stirrings of the Holy Spirit who is inviting us to practice fraternity for the sake of the world.
Ross Jesmont is an ordinand in the Scottish Episcopal Church and currently in the process of completing a PhD thesis on the pneumatology of Edward Schillebeeckx.
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[1] Pope Francis, Let Us Dream: The Path to a Better Future (London: Simon & Schster, 2020), 1.
[2] Pope Francis, Let Us Dream, 3.
[3] Edward Schillebeeckx, Church: The Human Story of God, trans. John Bowden (New York: Crossroad, 1990), 5-6.