The Jubilee of Mission invites us to reflect not only on what we do in ministry, but why and how we do it. Modern culture praises hustle and overload, but the Gospel gently calls us to something simpler and more faithful.
In his letter to the Philippians, Paul wrote, ‘I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me’ (4:13), not because it made him feel superhuman but to remind them, and us, that we’re not meant to be completely self-contained. Paul understood that his strength came not from his own capacity but from Christ alive in him.
It’s tempting in mission to imagine everything requires us to hold it together. We experience this in our families, parishes and ministries, as we overextend ourselves for the sake of the mission. However, Psalm 127 invites us to reflect on who is the mortar between the bricks: ‘unless the Lord builds the house, the builders labour in vain.’ Mission projects often start from the right place: a response to prayer and discernment, seeing a need, or following an inspiration of the Holy Spirit, but we can so easily become self-reliant and despondent when our own resources are depleted. The wisdom of Pope Francis reminds us that it’s precisely when we are in the ‘field hospitals’ of ministry that we need Christ the most. Humility is the antidote to quell the needless anxiety of trying to be the master builder.
DO SOMETHING WELL
Saint Óscar Romero humbly expressed, ‘We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realising that. This enables us to do something, and to do it very well’. Romero understood how overwhelming the need was, but he also knew that a ‘yes’ to everything meant doing nothing well. Ministry is messy and it requires our availability, not perfection. When we stop to notice social injustices, the ecological crisis and growing secularisation, the mission can seem exhausting and unending.
Jesus also faced large crowds of hungry, sick and abandoned people, but he gave himself permission to go away to a lonely place to pray. He modelled the importance of rest, solitude and prayer to discern what is ours to do, here and now.
A wise friend once told me, ‘There are many good things, but doing many is not good’. It stopped me in my tracks and reminded me that mission can resemble an all-you-can-eat smorgasbord of liturgies, justice projects, youth groups and family activities, but if we pile our plates too high our inner peace and relationships suffer. The Jubilee Year offers an opportunity for contemplation and discernment in mission. It’s a moment to consider what’s bearing fruit or draining energy and stealing joy. Jesus didn’t heal every person in Galilee, nor did he respond to every request. It wasn’t laziness. Rather, it was a witness to the fidelity of moving in rhythm with the Father’s will.
God doesn’t call us to become martyrs to activity. Mission needs people who are rested, joyful and attractive to the world that seeks witnesses to grace. It doesn’t begin with doing but by being.
SILENCE FIRST
While a Jubilee Year naturally impels us further into mission, it only comes after we are drawn into stillness. St John Paul II described Mary as a ‘woman of listening’, who ‘knows how to keep the word of God’ in silence and stillness. Mary’s response to God’s movement in her life was not frenetic activity but attentive stillness and creating space to receive and ‘ponder these things in her heart’ (Luke 2:19). This was anything but passivity.
Contemplation creates fertile ground for spiritual discernment and transformation. In my own life, I’ve found that the most meaningful moments of mission have not come from ambitious strategies or completed checklists. They’ve come when I’ve paused long enough to notice God’s presence in quiet conversations, listening without an agenda, and unplanned moments of loving gestures.
This Jubilee of Mission is a chance to reorient towards God and to go deeper into this relationship. It’s not about stepping back from mission but stepping closer to the source. In the end, mission isn’t about us, it’s about love. Saint Paul tells us that love is patient and doesn’t rush, it makes space and trusts that the seeds we plant will bloom in God’s time. Perhaps then our lives will proclaim that we can do all things, and not through our effort but through Christ’s love that strengthens us.
In the words of Saint Óscar Romero, ‘We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the magnificent enterprise that is God’s work’. As missionaries of hope, we are called to build God’s kingdom, picking up the hammer when and where he directs, knowing that grace will do the heavy lifting.
