Alain Mayama, C.S.Sp

Welcome also to those who are joining us online from various parts of the world. What a pleasure to see familiar faces again and welcome new participants this year! Your presence is a tribute to our shared commitment to mission. This Residential Seminar, more than just a place for exchanging ideas, it is a special opportunity to share experiences, discover new perspectives and grow together.

Mission as dependence on God and solidarity with the marginalized represents a holistic theological framework where evangelism is inseparable from social justice, compassion, and the pursuit of God's kingdom on earth. Rooted in the Missio Dei (Mission of God), this approach emphasizes that the church does not create its own mission, but participates in God’s ongoing work to redeem, restore, and liberate creation.

Each day we will be invited to focus on a different dimension of this theme. Tomorrow, Tuesday, the Franciscan Spirituality and response to the Cry of the New Poor will be explored. On Wednesday the focus will be on Chapter two of Pope Leo XIV’s Apostolic Exhortation Dilexi te on love for the poor, that is to say, God chooses the poor; while Thursday will focus on Chapter Three of the Apostolic Exhortation on a Church for the Poor. Friday will be a day for sharing the learnings and insights of the week.

Permit me in just a few introductory words to reflect on what the title of this Seminar might mean: “Mission as Dependence on God and Solidarity with the Marginalized.” This welcome address proposes that authentic Christian mission emerges from the theology and praxis of Christian Mission rooted in hospitālitās.

a) “Mission as Dependence on God and Solidarity with the Marginalized”

In choosing this theme, SEDOS invites us to remember something fundamental—mission does not begin with us. Mission belongs to God. God is its source, its initiator, and its sustainer. Hence, since “God’s heart has a special place for the poor, so much so that he himself “became poor” (2 Cor 8:9)² the Church in general and our missionary institutes of consecrated life in particular, the option for the poor “is primarily a theological category rather than a cultural, sociological, political or philosophical one.” It is a “divine preference” that has “consequences for the faith life of all Christians, since we are called to have “this mind… which was in Jesus Christ” (Phil 2:5)³.

At the heart of our reflection and discussion in the next few days is the missiological intuitions contained in some recent documents of the magisterium of the Church, particularly, Pope Francis’ Evangelii Gaudium, Dilexit Nos, and Pope Leo’s Dilexi te, which emphasise God’s constant concern for the needs of the poor and “the primacy of attention to the poor in the life and mission of [the Church and] every Christian”⁴. As Pope Leo states in Dilexi te, “in hearing the cry of the poor, we are asked to enter into the heart of God, who is always concerned for the needs of his children, especially those in greatest need. If we remain unresponsive to that cry, the poor might well cry out to the Lord against us, and we would incur guilt (cf. 15:9) and turn away from the very heart of God”⁵.

To help conceptualize the link between SEDOS’ theme — “Mission as Dependence on God and Solidarity with the Marginalized” and the missiological intuitions in the magisterium of the Church, is the rich concept of hospitālitās, which expresses the mutuality of welcome as both divine initiative and human response provides a vintage anchor for reflection.

b) Hospitālitās — The Theology and Praxis of Christian Mission to the Poor

The Latin term hospitālitās carries a depth of meaning that transcends its common translation as “hospitality.” Rooted in the word hospes, which paradoxically signifies both “guest” and “host,” hospitālitās reveals a profound reciprocity at the heart of human encounter. It is not merely the act of receiving another, a missionary, but a mutual exchange in which identities are transformed from missionary encounter with the poor. The one who welcomes becomes, in a certain sense, also the one who is welcomed. Thus, hospitālitās is not a one-directional gesture of generosity; it is a relational dynamic grounded in interdependence and shared dignity.

In the biblical tradition, hospitality occupies a central place in the life of faith. From Abraham’s hospitālitās of the three visitors at Mamre (Gen 18:1–8) culminating in the blessing of a long-awaited child — Isaac — to the exhortation in the Letter to the Hebrews — “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares” (Heb 13:2) — hospitality is presented as a privileged locus of divine encounter. The stranger is never merely an outsider; he or she may bear the hidden presence of God. In the New Testament, this theology reaches its summit in the words of Christ: “I was a stranger and you welcomed me” (Mt 25:35). Here, hospitality becomes a criterion of judgment and a sacramental moment in which service to the other, especially the poor, is revealed as service to Christ himself.

Within the context of mission, hospitālitās assumes an even deeper significance. Mission is not simply about going forth to the poor, it is equally about receiving from the poor the new look of mission—poverty. The missionary is not only a bearer of the Gospel but also a guest within the cultures and communities he or she encounters, especially the peripheries. This dual identity challenges any unilateral understanding of mission. Instead, hospitālitās calls for a posture of humility, listening, and genuine openness. It recognizes that God’s Spirit precedes the missionary and is already at work in the lives of those being encountered. Thus, authentic mission unfolds as a dialogue rather than an imposition, as a shared pilgrimage rather than a one-sided proclamation.

Theologically, hospitālitās finds its deepest grounding in the life of the Trinity. The mutual indwelling (perichōrēsis) of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit reveals a divine communion characterized by self-giving love and perfect receptivity. Human hospitality, then, becomes an icon of this Trinitarian life — a participation in God’s own relational being. To welcome the other is to mirror the openness of God; to be welcomed is to enter into the vulnerability that love requires. In this sense, hospitālitās is both ethical and mystical: it is a concrete practice that opens onto a deeper communion with God.

In contemporary contexts marked by migration, cultural plurality, and social fragmentation, the call to hospitālitās acquires renewed urgency. It challenges exclusionary tendencies and invites the Church to become a “home for all,” where differences are not erased but embraced within a larger unity. This hospitality must be more than symbolic; it demands structures, attitudes, and practices that embody genuine welcome — especially toward the marginalized, the displaced, and the voiceless.

Ultimately, hospitālitās is a way of being. It is the recognition that life itself is received as a gift and that every encounter is an opportunity for grace. In welcoming the other — the poor — we discover not only the face of Christ but also a deeper understanding of ourselves. Thus, hospitality becomes mission, and mission becomes hospitality — a mutual exchange in which God is both giver and gift, host and guest; and the missionary becomes poor with the poor, and the poor enriched by the missionary’s poverty.

c) Missionary Tools for Today

The three attitudes of missionary life that corresponds to hospitālitās are: Docility, reliability, and fidelity. These constitute the essential dispositions that sustain authentic missionary life. They are not merely ethical virtues or professional qualities; they are deeply spiritual attitudes rooted in a living relationship with God and expressed through concrete witness in the world. Together, they form the interior architecture of the missionary, shaping both identity and action within the Missio Dei.

Docility is the foundational attitude. It acknowledges that mission is not self-generated but received as a gift from God. The missionary does not initiate mission but participates in what God is already accomplishing in the world. This requires a profound attentiveness to the voice of the Holy Spirit, who speaks in Scripture, in prayer, in the life of the Church, and in the “signs of the times.” Docility calls for humility—the willingness to listen before acting, to discern before deciding, and to surrender personal agendas in favor of divine direction. It is a posture of openness, where the missionary becomes an instrument rather than a protagonist, echoing Mary’s fiat: “Let it be done to me according to your word” (Lk 1:38).

Reliability flows from this docility and gives it visible form. If docility concerns one’s relationship with God, reliability concerns one’s credibility before others. As Saint Paul reminds us, “we are ambassadors for Christ” (2 Cor 5:20). An ambassador must be trustworthy, consistent, and accountable, for he or she represents not oneself but another. In missionary life, reliability is expressed through integrity of character, faithfulness to commitments, and transparency in action. It builds trust within communities and ensures that the message proclaimed is not contradicted by the life lived. In a world often marked by skepticism and broken trust, the reliable missionary becomes a sign of coherence—someone whose words and deeds are harmoniously aligned.

Fidelity, finally, is the attitude that sustains mission over time. It is the perseverance that remains steadfast amid challenges, misunderstandings, and even apparent failure. Fidelity is not mere endurance; it is rooted in a deep union with Christ. As Paul testifies, “It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me” (Gal 2:20). This Christ-centered life enables the missionary to remain constant, not because of personal strength, but because of divine indwelling. Fidelity transforms obstacles into occasions of grace and discouragement into deeper reliance on God. It is the quiet, steadfast commitment that continues to say “yes” each day, even when the fruits of mission are not immediately visible.

Taken together, docility, reliability, and fidelity form a dynamic unity. Docility opens the missionary to God’s initiative; reliability manifests that openness in credible witness; and fidelity ensures that this witness endures over time. These attitudes are not optional embellishments but indispensable conditions for fruitful mission. They shape the missionary into a living sign of God’s presence—one who listens, one who can be trusted, and one who remains. In this way, missionary life becomes not only a task to be performed but a vocation to be lived, grounded in God, credible to others, and enduring in love.

As we follow the seminar throughout the week, in this beautiful setting of Nemi, we are invited to a profound re-examination of the nature of our religious missionary life.

May this reflection inspire a renewed commitment to mission as an expression of God’s love — especially among the poor, where the Heart of Christ continues to beat most visibly as the Church commemorates the 800th anniversary of St. Francis. Let us together rediscover the radical simplicity and concrete charity that define authentic discipleship.

Let’s make this Residential Seminar an unforgettable experience! Welcome!