This monthly column takes its inspiration from two prophetic figures: the former holy father, Pope John Paul II, and Catherine Doherty, our foundress. These two great Slavic believers were visionaries in the true sense of the word.

In an interview in 1996, the then Cardinal Ratzinger was speaking about John Paul’s vision for a New Millennium of a renewed humanity and a newly reunited humanity, coming as some kind of fruit of all the immense tears and suffering, particularly of the tragic 20th century.

The cardinal said: “We must have vision—a vision that inspires and challenges us to move in this direction. The Pope’s untiring activity comes precisely from his visionary power. It would be fatal if we let ourselves be guided by purely negative calculations…” (Salt of the Earth, Ignatius Press 1997, p. 238).

And Catherine Doherty once described the spiritual fruit of loving perseverance in one’s vocation in this way: “In the splendor of the grayness of everyday, your days will be spent like a rosary without mysteries—just one chain without any interruption.

“And yet all this rosary is the mystery of love, the love of a soul in search of her God. Drop, drop, drop into time, the beads of your days. Gray days, gray beads….

The result: the splendor of blinding lightning, an incomprehensible fire that renews the face of the earth, restores the sick, and raises the dead, in the sense that you might help a soul come back to God” (Talk to Madonna House staff, 1956).

You will note that both these people—John Paul and Catherine—had the kind of vision that inspired commitment, hard work, and incredible dedication.

This is not “vision” as a welcome (and temporary) relief from the drabness of life or the agonies of the moment. It is vision that sees deeper and further than most people do, having been forged in the furnace of suffering, purified, and made new.

Not very many of us are “visionaries” in the sense that a Pope John Paul or a Catherine Doherty were. They were people specially chosen by the Lord and inspired by the Holy Spirit to help all of us see better and hear better the Gospel of Christ in our day.

Their words contain a special anointing to help other believers to put their faith anew in the living Gospel and to follow Christ in the way of discipleship.

On the other hand, all of those who follow Christ must have a “vision” of the Lord to sustain them, and by that I mean not a mystical experience, but a personal, living relationship with him. He alone can sustain us in our vocational commitment. He alone can take a tired and broken heart and make it new all over again.

In his second letter to the Corinthians, St. Paul describes this experience: And we, who with unveiled faces all contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his likeness with an ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is Spirit…

Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed each day (3:18, 4:16).

How does this come about?

In thinking about our staff (so peacefully slumbering in their dorms at the moment) and about so many others whom I have had the privilege to accompany on the journey to God, I can see that there are some key elements that all true “visionaries” have in common.

These are the ones whose youth is renewed like the eagles (cf. Ps 103:5) and who have a tireless ability to love even when worn out to the bone. What is their secret?

First, I’ve never known anyone who persevered with youthful enthusiasm in his or her vocation for whom prayer was not a priority. All of the people I am talking about have this in common: a sense of their utter need for God and a thirst to meet him that sustain a commitment to prayer.

It doesn’t seem to matter if the prayer is dry or consoling. For some, the former definitely predominates. For others, there is at times a sweetness in the encounter with God.

The fascinating thing is: for vision, it doesn’t seem to matter one way or the other! What does matter is a being-before-God—in stillness, on the run, in agony and in joy, in study and play, in work and in rest.

Everything else might fall away in a person’s life, but not this cry to God, this song of praise and thanksgiving, this plea for forgiveness and mercy for all. Out of all this, vision is given, sustained, renewed. Many haven’t a clue how it happens or even that it happens. It is just “there” as a gift, but definitely connected to the prayer.

A second thing held in common by those with “vision” is a willingness to get one’s hands dirty, and yes, even a joy in this. “Getting one’s hands dirty” is a metaphor for committing oneself to the service of others.

That can take a million different forms in all kinds of vocations, but the common thread is: not withdrawing in fear or indifference, but instead plunging into loving service in imitation of Christ.

There is something about imitating the Incarnation of the Son of God that, since that holiest of moments, opens one to the divine mystery. In fact, there is no way “into” the mystery other than the one marked out by Christ Himself, who came not to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom.

The third condition that always goes with the experience of the true visionary is harder to articulate. And that is: to accept crucifixion as life offers it. This is precisely the context within which St. Paul was writing in 2nd Corinthians.

His mystical life was not based on a welcome escape to Mt. Olympus, or even, at least in vision, an all-expenses-paid trip to the New Jerusalem. It was founded rather in sharing Christ’s offering:

We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body (4:8-10).

Finally, there is a fourth thing that also plays a key role in making of the Christian believer a man or woman of vision and fire. And that is the ability to play.

In play, we let go of the illusion that the welfare of the universe depends on us. Without play, we never really let go of that illusion! That is why the Sabbath rest is of such great importance in the renewal of humanity. That is why dance, song, creativity, and the uselessness of children at play will all find their place in the New Jerusalem.

The only true “Visionary” is the One who comes from on high: the Holy Spirit. And he will surely come anew to those who pray with all their heart, pour out their lives in compassion, suffer with Christ for the sake of the Body, and yet know how to leave all and simply play with abandon before the ark (the presence) of God.

It is that same Spirit who inspires and loves all of these qualities. It is he who renews the vision that arises like a fiery joy in our hearts, so that, waking or sleeping, we cry: “Abba! Father!” “Jesus! Lord!”