Charles de Foucauld (1858-1916) lost his parents when he was only a boy. His grandmother took charge of him and looked after him. He joined the military; but he was rebellious and a misfit and had to leave. Charles received a lot of wealth as inheritance from his grandfather. He lived an extravagant and prodigal life—full of himself, He indulged in carefree and dissolute luxury. Fast forward to 21st century, today we proudly revere him as a universal brother.
I love the title ‘universal man’. I am sure that most of us love being identified as universal. But in truth we are full of me, mine, and we, our. We get stagnated in our language, religion, region, colour, and caste. It would be very strange and rare to see a universal person toady.
Kahlil Gibran’s The Madman opens with the incident of how its protagonist began to be called a mad man. One day, as he was going to sleep, he removed all his masks and placed it a table beside his bed. After a beautiful night’s peaceful deep sleep, and found all his masks were stolen; the seven masks he had fashioned and worn in seven lives were all gone. He ran mask-less through the crowded streets shouting, “Thieves, thieves, the cursed thieves.” Men and women laughed at him and some ran to their houses in fear of him. And when he reached the market place, a youth standing on a housetop cried, "He is a madman." Thus his protagonist became a madman. Thus the story goes on…
He, now the mad man, looked up to behold the boy (in fact the society) who called him mad; as he raised his face he saw the sun; the sun kissed his own naked face for the first time, his soul was inflamed with love for the sun; he wanted his masks no more. As if in a trance he cried, "Blessed, blessed are the thieves who stole my masks." The mask-less man, the ‘madman’ of Kahlil Gibran had become a universal man.
Charles de Foucauld had embraced what was madness in the eyes of the world to get out of himself and become what he is today—a universal brother. From my readings of literature on him I would identify two factors that led him to become universal: Travel and taking the last seat.
Travel not only takes people places, it moves one from the old to spaces and reasons that are new. One must not die in the same place where one was born. Isn’t it quite allegorical that we are born young, gradually mature, grow, and become old and die, and we call that life? Though born in France, in a wealthier environment, he travels to Morocco, then to Palestine, then his long sojourn in the Sahara. Being in a desert, like being in a big forest or on seashore, makes us realise the smallness of ourselves against the vast universe. In Sahara, Foucauld lives among the most forgotten people in imitation of the hidden life of Jesus of Nazareth; finally gets killed unexpectedly in Tamanrasset, Algeria by local rebels in their uprising against France. His life too was one marked by changes: he served as a soldier, then an explorer, had a conversion experience and became a monk, and finally lived a little brother’s life as a desert hermit in Algeria.
Jesus of Nazareth was someone who left his home, and moved on and on. Born in Bethlehem, he had to be taken to safety in Egypt immediately. They come back and settle down in Nazareth, and there he grows up in wisdom and stature. He multiple times moved through Galilee, Capernaum, River Jordan, Trans Jordan, Bethany, Samaria, non-Jewish territories, Decapolis and other Greek territories, Judea, and Jerusalem. Jesus travelled long distances to meet the other, to challenge himself, to challenge others, and in pursuit of the new.
Moving or wandering need not only be geographical, though that is important too, move, and wander away from our spiritual, intellectual stagnation points; move around from where we are, wander about from our ghettos, that is where we meet the other. As Rosa Luxemburg, Polish activist and philosopher says, “Those who do not move do not notice their chains.” For the kind attention of the non-passengers, you are missing out on life and becoming.
Taking the last seat means to take a space that is non-threatening. Taking the last seat is a conscious move towards peace building. It is not surprising that Foucauld is considered to be one of the pioneers of inter-religious dialogue. One-upmanship is the root cause for most conflicts and wars. Foucauld settled down in an oasis in Sahara, where he spent years in the desert, living among the Muslims as a little brother.
Once, when Jesus noticed that some guests were choosing the best seats, he told them, when someone invites you for a party do not vie for the first seat, rather choose the last seat (Luke 14: 7-11). One of the marks of true greatness is that one can sit at the lowest place and yet be comfortable with oneself and with others. Jesus did not find it difficult to be with groups of people not regarded as great in his time, be it the fishermen, tax-collators, or sinners.
With the attitude of taking the last seat, Foucauld’s approach to mission is particularly significant. In contrast to the triumphalistic models of his day, Foucauld exemplified what has come to be known as an evangelism of presence, a willingness to encounter people of other faiths on a basis of equality and mutual respect. He essentially embraced the poverty of his neighbours. Foucauld wanted to bear witness to the Gospel by living it, by being a friend and brother to all.
Abandoning into His hands completely, Charles de Foucauld’s life seemed a failure as he faced, almost a useless, death in a remote corner of the Sahara, he had published none of his spiritual writings; he had founded no congregation, though today called as the universal brother, he had attracted not even one to be in his company as a follower. He could not claim responsibility for a single conversion. And yet his witness endured. Many today regard him as one of the great spiritual figures of the 20th century, a prophet whose message speaks more clearly to the challenges of our time than it did in his own.
About meeting Ratan Tata, his young friend, Shantanu Naidu wrote, “I came upon a Lighthouse.” And he held that when we are lost in the ocean and see a lighthouse indicating the shore, move towards it with all your force, and never away from it. I believe Charles de Foucauld is a lighthouse, let us travel from ourselves to the space he finally arrived—universal humanity.
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