Fr. Maximus and the Mystery of Divine Concursus

Valentine Obienyem

The homily was delivered this morning by Fr. Maximus Okonkwo carried the weight of a scholar’s mind and the warmth of a theologian’s heart. He spoke of “Divine Concursus,” a phrase unfamiliar to many. Though born in the schools of theology, its essence is simple: the mysterious cooperation between the human and the divine – the union of our will with God’s in prayer. It finds its fullest expression in the words: “Thy will be done.”

He chose the term wisely, for the day’s readings revolved around the mystery of prayer as the breath of spiritual life. The first reading offered a vivid symbol: Moses, weary yet unyielding, standing with hands raised while Israel battled the Amalekites. As long as his hands were lifted in prayer, the tide of war favored Israel; when he faltered, they faltered. The lesson was unmistakable: though the sword may fight, prayer sustains the victory. It is the invisible power that moves the visible world.

The Gospel deepened the theme through the story of the widow who besieged an unjust judge until he granted her justice. “If persistence,” Fr. Maximus noted, “can move the unjust, how much more will perseverance in prayer move the Father of mercy?” Thus, he urged us not merely to pray, but to pray unceasingly. For as water is to a fish, so prayer is to the life of a Christian – the element without which the soul cannot live.

From the mystery of Divine Concursus, the priest transitioned naturally to the mission of the Church, for today is “Mission Sunday.” Instituted in 1926, it is an annual remembrance of the Church’s universal call to proclaim the Gospel. Drawing from the Second Vatican Council, he reminded us that the Church is missionary by her very nature, since Christ, her Founder, was Himself the first missionary.

Yet, he added, missionary work is not confined to travels to distant lands. Every Christian can be a missionary from where they are – by the purity of their life, the generosity of their heart, and the steadfastness of their prayer. He evoked the example of St. Thérèse of the Child Jesus, who longed to carry the Gospel to faraway places but was called instead to serve in the quiet cloister of Carmel. Her mission became prayer itself; she prayed relentlessly for missionaries, and for this, she is now honored as the Patroness of the Missions.

Fr. Maximus spoke with the clarity of a teacher and the tenderness of a shepherd. He explained that today’s offertory, taken in every parish across the world, would be sent to Rome and then distributed to struggling churches – to aid the propagation of the faith, the training of seminarians, and other missionary needs. He reminded us that we, too, share in that global enterprise whenever we give, pray, or live as witnesses to the truth we profess.

As I listened, I thought how rare it is to find such thoughtful preaching. The priests of our Chaplaincy, I have often said, do their homework before they mount the pulpit, and others would do well to emulate them. They speak not merely to fill the silence between hymns, but to comfort, to enlighten, and to draw the soul nearer to God. One leaves the church not only consoled but instructed – the intellect awakened, the will fortified, and the heart lifted toward divine things.

The parable of the unjust judge, however, lingers beyond its spiritual meaning; it casts a shadow upon our temporal affairs. One cannot help but think of the state of justice in our country. The judiciary was once regarded as the last hope of the common man, but today it appears to have become the opposite. We live in a nation where justice is often elusive, eroded by the corruption that has crept into the very courts meant to defend it. Like everything else in Nigeria, the call for reform has become a mere slogan, stripped of conviction.

I believe, and pray, that we shall one day have our own Cambyses. What did he do? To purge corruption from the judiciary, Cambyses ordered that a corrupt judge be flayed alive, and his skin used to upholster the judicial seat – a stern reminder that justice must be pure, and that those who dispense it sit, as it were, upon the consequences of their own conscience. If prayer unites man with God, then justice must reconcile man with man. Where either fails, society itself, like ours, becomes an unanswered prayer.