getting used to seeing this in everything

How a Train Whistle Brought a Search for God

2012-02-09T15:12:00.000-08:00

By Carmen Elena Villa, from Zenit

ROME, DEC. 11, 2009.- Archbishop Gianfranco Ravasi has a powerful memory, such that thinking about the discovery of his vocation leads him to a recollection from age four.

ZENIT spoke with the president of the Pontifical Council for Culture for this week's installation of "God's Men." Asked how he discovered his call to the priesthood, the 67-year-old prelate recounted an incident from right after World War II had ended.

Four-year-old Gianfranco saw how the sun was dropping behind a hill and heard a train whistle as it passed by.

"That sound is something melancholic: It makes one think of the idea of departure," he said. "And I remember with extreme mental clarity the experience of a profound sense of the fragility of things. It was something that made me understand the meaning of death, or in any case the fact of not having definitive security here. I believe that element was important in the search for God."

Discerning his vocation during his seminary years, Ravasi recalled how he began to understand his nostalgia for the infinite, which he had always taken as a call to participate in eternity, and as a priest, to bring others to do the same.

"Then, by this time, I felt the choice for God as the choice for the ultimate meaning of life," he explained.

Faith through culture

Ravasi inherited from his mother his passion for reading. From his earliest youth he read Plato, St. Augustine, Pascal, Kierkegaard, Dostoyevsky: "One sees a fundamental line of those who exalt intuition, illumination more than acquisition," he observed.

The archbishop is also a great music lover, particularly Bach and Mozart, but also Baroque and contemporary styles.

He contends that there is a strong connection between art and spirituality, "because they have the ultimate purpose of discovering through finite instruments -- the word, images, sounds -- and representing the infinite."

So, he noted, "If I wish to understand Christ's passion better, with Bach's 'Passion According to Matthew,' I enter profoundly into a spiritual dimension."

The prelate also confessed his admiration for visual arts, though his inability to create them. "I have so much respect and admiration for the genius that I cannot, I do not want to imitate it because it would be a clumsy thing," he said.

Penning his thoughts

Archbishop Ravasi said he has lost count of the books he has written, but believes in all, they number about 150.

He explained that he likes to write at night: "I don't sleep much -- four hours are enough and it is as if I had rested for eight."

And, the prelate continued, he writes by hand, not with a computer. He confessed that he does not know much about technology (though on Facebook there is a group of his admirers). He is a great researcher but he never uses Google.

Here, too, his memory comes in handy. He admits he can remember the page on which to find something he's read 10 years ago.

"People search on Google for something on hope," the prelate noted, by way of example "and find 58,000 possibilities. What do they do [with those]? Instead, I have perhaps only 300 possibilities, but I know which ones to choose and where."

Called by God

The president of the Pontifical Council for Culture, ordained a priest in the Diocese of Milan in 1966, says he has lived his priestly vocation in three stages: his youth, during which he taught theology for 20 years; the period in which he was prefect of the Ambrosian Library of Milan; and finally the position he now holds in the Roman Curia.

Archbishop Ravasi confessed his current appointment to the Pontifical Council for Culture was a great joy. "It was a new prospect, no longer of Italy but of the universal Church."

When asked what elements cannot be lacking in the life of a priest, the archbishop suggested symbolic places.

The first is a kneeler, he said, because "invocation, prayer, the primacy of grace is essential." Then there is "the work table," where the first book must always be the Bible. Only with these elements can the priest "go out to the square."

Archbishop Ravasi said he considers his temperament to be pessimistic and acknowledged that he tends to dissatisfaction with human fragility, but he affirmed that serving Christ through culture is a mission that fulfills him entirely, and an excellent instrument to dialogue with the secular world.

Because of this, he describes his priesthood as "very serene, very joyful, despite the difficulties."

"More beautiful than the beach" -- Volunteering at the Meeting in Riminit

2012-02-08T15:07:00.000-08:00

by Brandon Vaidyanathan

domenica 17 gennaio 2010

Why would people pay good money to spend a week of their vacations working long, tiring hours, often in mundane tasks such as sweeping floors or waiting tables?

I had wondered about this ever since, a few years ago, I came across descriptions of the curiously-titled Meeting for Friendship Among the Peoples. A week-long cultural festival of massive proportions. 700,000 plus attendees. Catholics, Protestants, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Atheists, Agnostics. Renowned personalities: Pope John Paul II, Josef Ratzinger, Mother Teresa, the Dalai Lama , Emmanuel Levinas, Lech Walesa, José Carreras, Simone Weil, George Smoot, Steven Beckwith, and more. Exhibitions and presentations on an extraordinarily vast array of topics—astronomy, agriculture, chemistry, economics, history, international development, literature, medicine, politics, theology. Soccer tournaments and bicycle races. And all supported by the dedication of more than 3000 volunteers. But what, I wondered, generates such a commitment?

“Come and see,” people would tell me. And so I did. I attended the Meeting in 2008, and in the process, interviewed nearly 100 volunteers between ages 18 to 80, in an attempt to understand what the event means to the people who sustain it.

One curious finding was the difference in the ways in which younger and older volunteers spoke about why they volunteered.

Younger folks I spoke to primarily insisted on the pragmatic value of volunteering at the Meeting. For example, many claimed that the choice to volunteer was merely a way to organize their time at the Meeting: there are so many events and exhibitions that without structure, one would very easily feel exhausted. So volunteering gives you structure and routine, forcing you to make choices only with your limited free time.

I found this reason odd. While nearly everyone I spoke to said they were struck—even deeply moved—by exhibits and “encounters” they attended, many volunteers said that they didn’t get to see all the presentations and exhibits they wanted to. Many, during their breaks, were so exhausted that they would lie sprawled on couches or on the floor. Some said the hotels they were staying in were ghastly, sometimes with roaches and no running water, so they were left very exhausted by the end of the event. Yet, they insisted, it was all worth it. But why?

It is not that such gratitude and faith were absent among younger volunteers. Rather, such factors were more common in the responses of older volunteers, who perhaps had less need to defend their decisions in pragmatic ways.

Most volunteers emphasized the universality of the Meeting—it was an event for everyone—and most of them insisted that it was not a “religious” event, but rather, a “cultural” or “human” event. Yet, they also stressed that it was distinctly Christian. “It is a beautiful and visible form of a culture that is distinctly Christian… The fact of Christ touches all factors of life—all the exhibits,” said one student. As a result, as one middle-aged woman put it, volunteering at the Meeting, year after year, was “more beautiful than going to the beach.”

Younger volunteers offered another pragmatic reason: spending time with one’s friends. They themselves had often been first motivated to volunteer at the event because other friends they trusted had invited them. “Friendship among peoples” surely was being generated at the event—for example, in conversations between Israeli and Palestinian foreign ministers, or between Christian, Muslim, and Buddhist theologians. But the people I spoke to said that they rarely ever made new friendships at the event. It was mainly an occasion to deepen existing friendships, which plausibly could happen anywhere else.

A more telling reason might lie in their insistence that their participation was “not altruism”; they wanted to downplay any allure of selflessness that volunteering might suggest. Rather, each one insisted, there was something in it “for me”—something which benefitted them personally. Volunteering at this event contributed to their growth, to their happiness; it was enriching; it broadened their horizons. But it was not simply the experience of different cultural events and activities. They also learned something about how to work—a different attitude towards work that they could take back into their daily lives. Many said they had learned to see work at the Meeting as “building a cathedral,” where the simplest actions done out of love and fidelity contributed to something great.

It was this sense of building something great together, of sharing something with the world that was the fruit of “the experience of a people,” that older volunteers were more quick to emphasize. There was no attempt to provide pragmatic justification. More prominent among older volunteers was a sense of gratitude and their desire to communicate it. One elderly gentleman, constructing one of the stages before the event (during what is called the Pre-Meeting), said that he was building “la nostra casa.” This was their home, into which they wished to receive the world with hospitality. What they were building, they were willing to say more explicitly, was a space in which to encounter Christ, who was at the source of their friendships, and who had generated their companionship and their culture.

The key to understanding their commitment may lie in one factor that young and old volunteers alike agree on as characteristic of their experience of the event: “la bellezza.” Beauty. They would refer to the beauty of art or astronomy, the beauty of harmony in diversity, the beauty of people who share their deepest struggles and passions, the beauty of friendship, or the beauty of Christ.

Beauty, unlike other pleasures we experience, is something we never tire of. It is perhaps this inexhaustible quality that serves to sustain both its attraction and commitment to it. For these volunteers, it also serves as a constant provocation, inciting them to seek its origin, which is something about which they have little uncertainty. In the words of one student, “In the meeting, the Christian experience is made concrete through works: meetings, exhibits, etc. This strikes people. The first aspect is aesthetic. From here, we can arrive at the root: it is Christ who generates all this.”

reprinted from Il Sussidiario

Christian Experience

2012-02-07T14:58:00.000-08:00

The Christian experience and that of the Church are one, single, vital act, in which a triple factor is at work, as follows:
a) An encounter with an objective fact which has an origin independent of the person having the experience. The existential reality of this fact or event is a community that can be documented, like every reality which is fully human. This community has an authority expressed through a human voice in judgments and directives, constituting criteria and meaning.
All forms of Christian experience, even those lived in the innermost recesses of the soul, refer in some way to an encounter with the community and to its authority.
b) The ability to properly perceive the meaning of that encounter. The value of the fact which we encounter transcends our power to understand so much so that an act of God is required for an adequate understanding. The same gesture by which God makes His presence known to humanity in the Christian event also enhances a person's potential for knowledge, raising him up to the exceptional reality to which God attracts him. We call this the grace of faith.
c) An awareness of the correspondence between the meaning of the fact that we encounter and the meaning of our own existence, between the reality of Christ and the Church and the reality of our own person, between the encounter and our own destiny. It is the awareness of this correspondence that brings about the growth of the self, an essential component of experience.
Above all, in the Christian experience one sees clearly that in an authentic experience, human self-consciousness and capacity for criticism are engaged, and that this is very different from a mere impression or a sentimental echo.
It is within this verification of Christian experience that the mystery of the divine initiative exalts human reason. Freedom is at work in this verification. We cannot register or recognize the glorious correspondence between the presence of the mystery and our dynamism as human beings unless we have first accepted and are fully aware of our own radical dependence, of the fact that we are "made." This awareness constitutes our simplicity, purity of heart, the poverty of spirit.
The drama of our freedom is entirely contained in this poverty of spirit, a drama so deep that when it happens, it is nearly hidden. (from Chapter 3, pp. 98–102, of The Risk of Education by Monsignor Luigi Giussani)

Greater than sin

2012-02-06T14:46:00.000-08:00

Traces - Communion and Liberation International Magazine - April 2010, Editorial

POPE LETTER

There would be much to discuss about the events that led Benedict XVI to
write his Letter to the Catholics of Ireland, and we could do this by
starting from the facts, the numbers, and the data that, if looked at
attentively, reveal a reality much less enormous than appears in the
ferocious media campaign. Or, we could start from the contradictions of
those who, in the same newspaper, denounce certain wicked deeds, but
after a few pages justify everything and everybody, especially in matters of
sex. We could do this, and perhaps it would help to understand the context
of a Church really under attack, whatever its errors may be. Only the
Pope’s humble and courageous gesture pointed attention toward the heart
of the question.

Clearly, there is a wound, a very serious one, one of the kind that provoked
Christ (and His vicars, too) to use fiery words (“Whoever causes one of
these little ones who believe in Me to sin, it would be better for him to
have a great millstone hung around his neck and to be drowned in the
depths of the sea.”).

There is filth in the Church. Joseph Ratzinger himself said so during the
Way of the Cross at Rome’s Coliseum five years ago, shortly before being
elected Pope and, realistically, he has never stopped recalling the fact
since. Sin is there, grave sin. Evil is there, along with the abyss of pain that
evil carries with it, and everything possible has to be done, and with
firmness, to stem the evil and to make amends for that pain. The Pope is
already doing this, and his letter reiterates it strongly when it asks the
guilty to “answer for it before Almighty God and before properly
constituted tribunals.”

This is precisely why the true heart of the question, the forgotten focus,
lies elsewhere. Alongside all the limitations and within the Church’s
wounded humanity, is there or is there not something greater than sin,
something radically greater than sin? Is there something that can shatter
the inexorable weight of our evil? Is there something that, as the Pope
writes, “has the power to forgive even the greatest of sins, and to bring
forth good even from the most terrible evil”?

“This is the point: God was moved by our nothingness,” Fr. Giussani said
in the phrase quoted on the CL Easter Poster. “Not only that. God was
moved by our betrayal, by our crude, forgetful, and treacherous poverty,
by our pettiness... It’s compassion, pity, passion. He had pity on me.” This
is what the Church brings to the world, and certainly not because of its
members’ merit, goodness, or even less because of their coherence: God’s
compassion for our pettiness, something greater than our limitations, the
only thing infinitely greater than our limitations. If we don’t start from
here, we cannot understand at all; everything goes mad, literally.

We, too, have had moments when we have dodged that compassion, and
run away from it. At times, it is in the Church itself that faith is reduced to
ethics, and morality is reduced to an impossible lonely recourse to laws, as
if the need of that embrace were something to be ashamed of. But if we
forget Christ, if we do away with the wholly different measure that He
introduces into the world now, through the Church, then we no longer
have the terms on which to judge the Church.

Then it becomes easy to mistake attention for the victims and regard for
their history for a conniving silence, and prudence toward the guilty
parties, true or presumed–perhaps accused on the basis of rumors
emerging after decades–for the will to “cover up” (sadly, this has
sometimes been the case). Then, it is almost inevitable to keep arguing
about celibacy without even touching on the real value of virginity. And it
becomes impossible to understand why the Church can be hard and
motherly at the same time with the priests who go wrong. It can punish
them severely and ask them to serve their sentence and make amends for
the evil (it has already done so in the past, and will always do so), but
without snapping, if possible, that thread that binds them, because it is the
only thing that can redeem them. It can ask its children to “be perfect as
your heavenly Father is perfect, not so as to demand of them an impossible
reprehensibility, but so as to remind them of a tension to live the same
mercy with which God embraces us” (“be merciful as your heavenly
Father is merciful”).

This is why the Church can educate, which, in the end, is the real question
being challenged by those who are accusing it (“See, even the priests do
wrong, and badly wrong. How can we trust them with our children?”), as if
the Church’s being a teacher all depended on the behavior of her children,
and not on Christ, on that Presence which–amidst all the errors and horrors
committed–makes possible in the world an embrace like that of Chagall’s
Prodigal Son that appears on the Easter Poster. There, alongside Fr.
Giussani’s phrase, there is another, by Benedict XVI: “Conversion to
Christ ultimately means this: to exit the illusion of self-sufficiency in order
to discover and accept one’s own need–the need of His forgiveness and
His friendship.”

This is the embrace of Christ, in our wounded and needy humanity, far
greater than the evil we can do. If the Church, with all its limitations, had
not this to offer to the world, especially to the victims of those barbarities,
then we would be lost—because the evil would still be there, but it would
be impossible to overcome it.

Ours is the Church of the saints

2012-02-05T14:45:00.000-08:00

from The Heroic Face of Innocence, "Joan, Heretic and Saint," by Georges Bernanos:

"Who does not long for the strength to set out on so glorious an adventure? For sanctity is an adventure; it is indeed the only adventure. Those who have once realized this have found their way to the very heart of the Catholic faith; they have felt in their mortal flesh the shuddering of another terror than the terror of death: the shudder of supernatural hope. Our Church is the Church of the saints. But who worries about the saints? We want them to be old, full of experience and worldly wisdom; and most of them are children. And childhood is alone against everyone. The know-alls shrug their shoulders and smile: what saint ever had much to say for the Churchmen? But what have the Churchmen got to do with it? What contact with the most heroic among mankind has Mr. So-and-so, who is convinced that the Kingdom of Heaven can be won like a seat in the French Academy, by treating everyone tactfully? God did not make the Church for the prosperity of the saints, but that she might hand down their memory; He made her that the world might not lose, with the divine miracle, a torrent of honor and poetry. What saints have the other churches? Ours is the Church of the saints. Whom would you entrust with the charge of this flock of angels? History alone, if left to itself, would have crushed them with its harsh, restricted realism and its summary methods. Our Catholic tradition, without harming them, sweeps them into the full flood of its universal rhythm. They are all there -- St. Benedict with his raven, St. Francis with his lute and his Provençal songs, Joan with her sword, Vincent with his shabby soutane -- and the newcomer, so strange, so hidden, invoked by contractors and simoniacs, and smiling her incomprehensible smile -- Teresa of the Child Jesus. Would one have wished them, during their lifetime, to be kept in glass cases, addressed in rounded periods, knelt to, honored with incense? Such things are all right for Canons. But the saints lived and suffered like us. They bore the full weight of their load, and many of them, without relinquishing it, lay down under it to die. Those of us who dare not yet take to ourselves what was holy and divine in their example, can at least find in it a lesson in heroism and honor. But is there one among us who would not blush to stop short so soon and leave them to follow the endless stretch of road alone? Is there one who could wish to spend his life pondering the problem of evil rather than dashing forward? Who will refuse to liberate the earth? Our Church is the Church of the saints. The whole vast machinery of wisdom, strength, supple discipline, glory and majesty, is of itself nothing unless it is animated by love. Yet the lukewarm turn to it only for a guarantee against the risks of the divine. No matter! The smallest little boy in the catechism class knows that the blessing of all the Churchmen put together can only bring peace to those who are ready to receive it -- the souls of good will. No rite can dispense us from loving. Our Church is the Church of the saints. Nowhere else could one even imagine the adventure -- an adventure so human! -- of a little heroine who one day passed quietly from the stake of the Inquisition to Paradise, under the noses of a hundred and fifty theologians. "If we have reached the point" (wrote Joan's judges to the Pope) "where sorceresses who prophesy falsely in the name of God, like a certain female taken prisoner within the diocese of Beauvais, are better received by the thoughtless populace than are their pastors and doctors, then all is lost: religion will perish, faith will fail, the Church will be trodden underfoot, and the iniquity of Satan will prevail throughout the earth!" ... And behold, rather less than five centuries later, the image of the sorceress was exposed for veneration in St. Peter's in Rome -- painted, it is true, as a warrior, and without tabard or divided skirt! -- while a hundred feet below her, Joan might have seen, lying prostrated, the tiny figure of a man in white, who was the Pope himself. Our Church is the Church of the saints. From the Pope down to the little altar-boy drinking the wine left over from the cruets, everyone knows that there are not many famous preachers in the Calendar -- not many priest-diplomatists. The only people to question this are the respectable believers with stomachs and gold chains, who think that the saints are in far too much of a hurry, and who would like to go to Heaven with decent deliberation, just as they walk up to the church-wardens' pew, with the parish priest for company. Our Church is the Church of the saints. We may respect the Commissariat Service, the Provost Marshal, the staff officers and the cartographers, but our hearts are with the men on ahead; our hearts are with those who get killed. There is not one of us shouldering his burden -- his country, his job, his family -- not one of us with our grief-worn faces and our roughened hands, with the unending boredom of our daily life, of daily bread to be fought for, and the honor of our homes to be defended -- there is not one who will ever have enough theology to become even a Canon. But we have enough to become saints. We can leave it to others to administer the Kingdom of God in peace. We have our hands full already, wresting each hour from the day, one by one, with vast labor -- each hour of the interminable day, until that looked-for hour, that unique hour, when God will deign to breathe upon His exhausted creature. O radiant Death, O true dawn! Let others look to the spiritual side of things, argue about it, legislate about it; it is the temporal that we hold in both our hands: we hold in both hands the temporal Kingdom of God. We hold the temporal heritage of the saints. For there were blessed along with us the corn and the wine, the stone of our thresholds and the roof where the dove build her nest; with us were blessed our poor beds full of dreams and forgetfulness; the highroad down which the country carts go squeaking; the young men with their pitiless laughter, and the maidens weeping at the fountain's brink. And ever since then -- ever since God Himself has visited us -- is there anything in this world which our saints should not have taken back: is there anything at all which they cannot give?"

"A decadent Christianity and one of its own children"

2012-02-04T14:41:00.000-08:00

Moses and the Burning Bush, by Marc Chagall

from The Priority of Christ, by Fr. Robert Barron (pp 12-16):

There have in recent years been numerous accounts of the etiology of modernity. Jürgen Habermas, Hans Urs von Balthasar, John Milbank, Colin Gunton, and Louis Dupré, among many others, have offered explanations of the transition from the premodern to the modern. I subscribe to the proposal that liberal modernity can best be seen as an energetic reaction to a particular and problematic version of nominalist Christianity. Early modernity saw itself as a salutary response to oppressive and obscurantist strains in Christian culture, but since it was reacting to a corruption of true Christianity, it itself became similarly distorted and exaggerated. As a result, the two systems settled into a centuries-long and terribly unproductive warfare. Even when the two attempted a reconciliation (as in all forms of liberal Christianity in the past two centuries), the results were less than satisfactory, precisely because each party was itself a sort of caricature.

The trouble began with Duns Scotus’s option for a univocal conception of being in contradistinction to Thomas Aquinas’s analogical understanding. For Thomas, God, as the sheer act of to-be itself (ipsum esse subsistens), is that through which all creatures exist. What follows epistemologically from this metaphysical claim is that the meaning of “to-be,” in reference to God and creatures, must be analogical, with God as primary analogue and created things as secondary. In accord with this intuition, Aquinas maintained consistently throughout his career that God is inescapably mysterious to the human intellect, since our frame of reference remains the creaturely mode of existence, which bears only an analogical resemblance to the divine mode of being. We may say that God exists, but we’re not quite sure what we mean when we say it; the “cash value” of the claim that God exists is that there is a finally mysterious source of the to-be of finite things.

In an effort to make the to-be of God more immediately intelligible, Duns Scotus proposed a univocal conception of existence, according to which God and creatures belong to the same basic metaphysical category, the genus of being. Though God is infinite and therefore quantitatively superior to any creature or collectivity of creatures, there is nevertheless no qualitative difference, in the metaphysical sense, between the supreme being, God, and finite beings. Whereas Aquinas insisted that God is categorizable in no genus whatsoever, Scotus held that God and creatures do belong together to a logical category that, in a real sense, transcends and includes them. The implications of this shift are enormous and, to my mind, almost entirely negative. If the analogical conception of being is rejected, creatures are no longer seen as participating in the divine to-be; instead, God and creatures are appreciated as existing side by side, as beings of varying types and degrees of intensity. Furthermore, unanchored from their shared participation in God, no longer grounded in a common source, creatures lose their essential connectedness to one another. Isolated and self-contained individuals (God the supreme being and the many creatures) are now what is most basically real.

Scotus’s intuition was confirmed a generation later by his Franciscan successor William of Occam. Congruent with his nominalism, which denied ontological density to the unifying features of being, Occam held that there is nothing real outside of disconnected individual things illas partes absolutas nulla res est. As for Scotus so for Occam, God and creatures are set side by side, joined only through a convention of logic that assigns them to the category of “beings.” A consequence of this conception is that God and finite things have to be rivals, since their individualities are contrastive and mutually exclusive. Just as a chair is itself precisely in the measure that it is no other creaturely thing, so God is himself only inasmuch as he stands over and against the world he has made, and vice versa. Whereas in Aquinas’s participation metaphysics the created universe is constituted by its rapport with God, on Occam’s reading it must realize itself through disassociation from a competitive supreme being. A further concomitant of this individualistic ontology is voluntarism. Since the metaphysically dense and natural link between God and creatures has been attenuated, any connection between the divine and the nondivine has to be through will. God’s relation with his rational creatures is therefore primarily legalistic and arbitrary. This understanding of divine power influenced Occam’s conception of the human will as well. Finite freedom is, for him, absolute spontaneity, an action prompted by nothing either interior or exterior to the subject. Accordingly, human power is a distant mirror of divine power: both are self-contained, capricious, absolute, and finally irrational. The most obvious practical consequence of this nominalist and voluntarist metaphysics is that divine and human freedom find themselves pitted against one another, God imposing himself arbitrarily on a necessarily reluctant and resentful humanity.

Both Martin Luther and John Calvin were formed according to the principles of late-medieval nominalism, and one does not have to look far to see evidence of that formation in their writings. A distant and majestic God who chooses, apparently in complete arbitrariness, that some be saved and others be damned is on clear display in Calvin’s Institutes, and a God whose power effectively trumps the freedom and integrity of the human will is readily apparent in Luther’s On the Bondage of the Will. Was the Reformation, at least to some degree, a radical ratification of the breakdown of an analogical conception of being?

From at least the time of Étienne Gilson, a number of scholars have acknowledged the important relationship between early modernity and medieval culture. I follow Colin Gunton and John Milbank’s suggestion that the modern can be viewed as a sharp reaction to precisely the elements in late-medieval Christianity that I have been highlighting. Many of the early modern philosophers called for a Heraclitean revolt of the many individuals against the Parmenidean imposition of divine demands, especially as those were made concrete in the church and in traditional culture. Martha Nussbaum, one of the most articulate contemporary defenders of the liberal/modern perspective, says that liberalism is essentially the valorization of the prerogatives of the individual subject, more precisely, an affirmation of that subject’s right to choose, even the meaning of his or her own life. What is the enemy of this freedom? For many of the fathers of modernity, it is nothing other than those traditional institutions (supported by the voluntarist conception of God) that bind the will and quash individual initiative and imagination.

We can see this paradigmatically in Descartes’s affirmation of the epistemological primordiality and meaning-creating capacity of the cogito. Dupré has remarked that subjectivism as such is not a distinctive quality of the modern, for no one was more subjective than Plato, Plotinus, or Augustine. Rather, it is the claim that the subject is itself the ground and measure of meaning and value. This is what we find in René Descartes’s insistence that all sense experience, all received ideas and traditions, and the very existence of God be brought before the bar of subjectivity for adjudication and evaluation. And we can see it, too, in Immanuel Kant’s claim that the moral life is grounded neither in the objectivity of nature nor in any hetereonomous law, but rather in the self-legislation of the categorical imperative. It is furthermore apparent in Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s conviction that the only legitimate form of government is a democracy so pure that obedience to law is coincident with obedience to self. It comes to perhaps clearest expression in Friedrich Nietzsche’s uncompromising elevation of the prerogatives of the will (a perfect mirror of the voluntarist divine will in Occam) and the concomitant need of that heroic will to put the competitive God to death.

Lest all of this seem too abstractly philosophical, the modern preference for the freedom of the individual is no more baldly and forcibly defended than in the U.S.Supreme Court’s judgment in the case of Casey v. Planned Parenthood : “At the heart of liberty is the right to define one’s own concept of existence, of meaning, of the universe, of the mystery of human life.” This judicial formulation is an almost perfect exemplification of Jean-Paul Sartre’s archetypically modern dictum that existence (concrete freedom) precedes essence (meaning and value).

In all of this modern assertiveness, we see the reaction of the many against the one, of individuals against the tyranny of institutions and of that threatening Other lurking, acknowledged explicitly or not, behind them. In my judgment, this tension is the finally unproductive warfare between the grandmother and the Misfit [in Flannery O'Connors short story, "A Good Man is Hard to Find"], between a not very convincing form of Christianity and the opponent to whom it naturally gave rise. Modernity and decadent Christianity are enemies in one sense, but in another sense, they are deeply connected to one another and mirror one another. In most of the disputes between Christianity and modernity, we have advocates of the prerogatives of the voluntarist God facing down advocates of the voluntarist self. A central argument of this book amounts to “a plague on both your houses,” for I am convinced that both need to be saved, precisely by that person who throws everything off, including and especially the competitive understanding of God and the world that produced the conflict between them in the first place.

Неопалимая Купина. Nizhny Novgorod, The Virgin of the Burning Bush.

Memory Anchored in the sign

2012-02-03T14:36:00.000-08:00

from Morality: Memory and Desire, by Luigi Giussani:

The Christian life depends upon the eucharistic sacrament as a spring or a source out of which can be drawn a motivation that is sufficient for real moral commitment (cf. 1 Corinthians 10:14-22). It is from within the context of such an offering that a correct Christian attitude on morality is formed (cf 1 Corinthians 11:17-26).

However, the great sign that is the Eucharist is caught up and enlarged in an even greater sign, the Church, the only truly adequate sign of the Presence of "the fullness of him who fills all in all" (Ephesians 1:23).

This "body, joined and knit together by every joint with which it is supplied, when each part is working properly, grows and upbuilds itself in love" (Ephesians 4:16). This Body is the place where morality arises and is nourished and grows in love.

To awaken the moral conscience of somebody is a reality that belongs totally to the unity in which all Christians live as brothers through baptism (cf Galatians 3:26-27 : "For in Christ Jesus you are all sons of God through faith. For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ"). This unity is preserved and developed by authority (cf. Ephesians 2:20 : "built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets") and its purpose is to stimulate a kind of self-expression that is exercised for the good of the whole community. All this is the true basis for a real pedagogy in Christian morality.

The immanence of the mystery of community, to the extent that it is recognized, loved, and participated in, penetrates our being as if by osmosis with new moral standards and new moral sensitivity (pp 172-173)

Bono, theologian

2012-02-02T05:14:00.000-08:00

The following exchange between Bono and Assayas took place just days after the Madrid train bombings in March 2004, an act of terrorism that left 191 dead and more than 1,800 wounded. The two men were discussing how terrorism is often carried out in the name of religion when Bono turned the conversation to Christianity, expressing his preference for God's grace over "karma," offering an articulate apologetic for the deity of Christ, and giving a clear presentation of the gospel message.

Bono: My understanding of the Scriptures has been made simple by the person of Christ. Christ teaches that God is love. What does that mean? What it means for me: a study of the life of Christ. Love here describes itself as a child born in straw poverty, the most vulnerable situation of all, without honor. I don't let my religious world get too complicated. I just kind of go: Well, I think I know what God is. God is love, and as much as I respond [sighs] in allowing myself to be transformed by that love and acting in that love, that's my religion. Where things get complicated for me, is when I try to live this love. Now that's not so easy.

Assayas: What about the God of the Old Testament? He wasn't so "peace and love"?

Bono There's nothing hippie about my picture of Christ. The Gospels paint a picture of a very demanding, sometimes divisive love, but love it is. I accept the Old Testament as more of an action movie: blood, car chases, evacuations, a lot of special effects, seas dividing, mass murder, adultery. The children of God are running amok, wayward. Maybe that's why they're so relatable. But the way we would see it, those of us who are trying to figure out our Christian conundrum, is that the God of the Old Testament is like the journey from stern father to friend. When you're a child, you need clear directions and some strict rules. But with Christ, we have access in a one-to-one relationship, for, as in the Old Testament, it was more one of worship and awe, a vertical relationship. The New Testament, on the other hand, we look across at a Jesus who looks familiar, horizontal. The combination is what makes the Cross.

Assayas: Speaking of bloody action movies, we were talking about South and Central America last time. The Jesuit priests arrived there with the gospel in one hand and a rifle in the other.

Bono I know, I know. Religion can be the enemy of God. It's often what happens when God, like Elvis, has left the building. [laughs] A list of instructions where there was once conviction; dogma where once people just did it; a congregation led by a man where once they were led by the Holy Spirit. Discipline replacing discipleship. Why are you chuckling?

Assayas: I was wondering if you said all of that to the Pope the day you met him.

Bono Let's not get too hard on the Holy Roman Church here. The Church has its problems, but the older I get, the more comfort I find there. The physical experience of being in a crowd of largely humble people, heads bowed, murmuring prayers, stories told in stained-glass windows …

Assayas: So you won't be critical.

Bono No, I can be critical, especially on the topic of contraception. But when I meet someone like Sister Benedicta and see her work with AIDS orphans in Addis Ababa, or Sister Ann doing the same in Malawi, or Father Jack Fenukan and his group Concern all over Africa, when I meet priests and nuns tending to the sick and the poor and giving up much easier lives to do so, I surrender a little easier.

Assayas: But you met the man himself. Was it a great experience?

Bono … [W]e all knew why we were there. The Pontiff was about to make an important statement about the inhumanity and injustice of poor countries spending so much of their national income paying back old loans to rich countries. Serious business. He was fighting hard against his Parkinson's. It was clearly an act of will for him to be there. I was oddly moved … by his humility, and then by the incredible speech he made, even if it was in whispers. During the preamble, he seemed to be staring at me. I wondered. Was it the fact that I was wearing my blue fly-shades? So I took them off in case I was causing some offense. When I was introduced to him, he was still staring at them. He kept looking at them in my hand, so I offered them to him as a gift in return for the rosary he had just given me.

Assayas: Didn't he put them on?

Bono Not only did he put them on, he smiled the wickedest grin you could ever imagine. He was a comedian. His sense of humor was completely intact. Flashbulbs popped, and I thought: "Wow! The Drop the Debt campaign will have the Pope in my glasses on the front page of every newspaper."

Assayas: I don't remember seeing that photograph anywhere, though.

Bono Nor did we. It seems his courtiers did not have the same sense of humor. Fair enough. I guess they could see the T-shirts.

Later in the conversation:

Assayas: I think I am beginning to understand religion because I have started acting and thinking like a father. What do you make of that?

Bono: Yes, I think that's normal. It's a mind-blowing concept that the God who created the universe might be looking for company, a real relationship with people, but the thing that keeps me on my knees is the difference between Grace and Karma.

Assayas: I haven't heard you talk about that.

Bono I really believe we've moved out of the realm of Karma into one of Grace.

Assayas: Well, that doesn't make it clearer for me.

Bono You see, at the center of all religions is the idea of Karma. You know, what you put out comes back to you: an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, or in physics—in physical laws—every action is met by an equal or an opposite one. It's clear to me that Karma is at the very heart of the universe. I'm absolutely sure of it. And yet, along comes this idea called Grace to upend all that "as you reap, so you will sow" stuff. Grace defies reason and logic. Love interrupts, if you like, the consequences of your actions, which in my case is very good news indeed, because I've done a lot of stupid stuff.

Assayas: I'd be interested to hear that.

Bono That's between me and God. But I'd be in big trouble if Karma was going to finally be my judge. I'd be in deep s---. It doesn't excuse my mistakes, but I'm holding out for Grace. I'm holding out that Jesus took my sins onto the Cross, because I know who I am, and I hope I don't have to depend on my own religiosity.

Assayas: The Son of God who takes away the sins of the world. I wish I could believe in that.

Bono But I love the idea of the Sacrificial Lamb. I love the idea that God says: Look, you cretins, there are certain results to the way we are, to selfishness, and there's a mortality as part of your very sinful nature, and, let's face it, you're not living a very good life, are you? There are consequences to actions. The point of the death of Christ is that Christ took on the sins of the world, so that what we put out did not come back to us, and that our sinful nature does not reap the obvious death. That's the point. It should keep us humbled… . It's not our own good works that get us through the gates of heaven.

Assayas: That's a great idea, no denying it. Such great hope is wonderful, even though it's close to lunacy, in my view. Christ has his rank among the world's great thinkers. But Son of God, isn't that farfetched?

Bono No, it's not farfetched to me. Look, the secular response to the Christ story always goes like this: he was a great prophet, obviously a very interesting guy, had a lot to say along the lines of other great prophets, be they Elijah, Muhammad, Buddha, or Confucius. But actually Christ doesn't allow you that. He doesn't let you off that hook. Christ says: No. I'm not saying I'm a teacher, don't call me teacher. I'm not saying I'm a prophet. I'm saying: "I'm the Messiah." I'm saying: "I am God incarnate." And people say: No, no, please, just be a prophet. A prophet, we can take. You're a bit eccentric. We've had John the Baptist eating locusts and wild honey, we can handle that. But don't mention the "M" word! Because, you know, we're gonna have to crucify you. And he goes: No, no. I know you're expecting me to come back with an army, and set you free from these creeps, but actually I am the Messiah. At this point, everyone starts staring at their shoes, and says: Oh, my God, he's gonna keep saying this. So what you're left with is: either Christ was who He said He was—the Messiah—or a complete nutcase. I mean, we're talking nutcase on the level of Charles Manson. This man was like some of the people we've been talking about earlier. This man was strapping himself to a bomb, and had "King of the Jews" on his head, and, as they were putting him up on the Cross, was going: OK, martyrdom, here we go. Bring on the pain! I can take it. I'm not joking here. The idea that the entire course of civilization for over half of the globe could have its fate changed and turned upside-down by a nutcase, for me, that's farfetched …

Bono later says it all comes down to how we regard Jesus:

Bono: … [I]f only we could be a bit more like Him, the world would be transformed. …When I look at the Cross of Christ, what I see up there is all my s--- and everybody else's. So I ask myself a question a lot of people have asked: Who is this man? And was He who He said He was, or was He just a religious nut? And there it is, and that's the question. And no one can talk you into it or out of it.

From Bono: In Conversation with Michka Assayas www.penguin.com

(Note: While the book includes numerous passages of Bono discussing his Christian faith, it also includes occasional salty language from both parties.)

The charism of Communion and Liberation

2012-02-01T14:57:00.000-08:00

“A charism,” Fr Giussani has written, “is an ultimate terminal of the Incarnation, that is, it is a particular way in which the Fact of Jesus Christ Man and God reaches me, and through me can reach others.”

The essence of the charism given to Communion and Liberation can be signaled by three factors.

first of all, the announcement that God became man (the wonder, the reasonableness, the enthusiasm for this): “The Word was made flesh and dwells among us.”
secondly, the affirmation that this man – Jesus of Nazareth dead and risen – is a present event in a “sign” of “communion,” i.e., of unity of a people guided, as a guarantee, by a living person, ultimately the Bishop of Rome;
thirdly: only in God made man, man, therefore only in His presence and, thus only through – in some way – the experienceable form of His presence (therefore, ultimately only within the life of the Church) can man be truer and mankind be truly more human. (from the CL website)

This photo, and the one above, were taken on Saturday, March 24, 2007, during an audience with the Pope on the occasion of the 25th anniversary of the pontifical recognition of the Fraternity of Communion and Liberation. More photos of this event may be found here.

More profound than the abyss of death

2010-12-01T04:35:00.000-08:00

Maunela is the second from the right

The message that Benedict XVI sent for the funeral of Manuela Camagni, 56, a member of the association of Memores Domini who formed part of a team of women who look after the papal apartments. She was killed Tuesday night in Rome when she was struck by a car.

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

I would willingly have presided over the funeral of dear Manuela Camagni, but -- as you can imagine -- it was not possible for me. However, communion in Christ allows us Christians a real spiritual closeness, in which we share the prayer and affection of the heart. In this profound bond I greet all of you, in particular Manuela's family, the diocesan bishop, the priests, the Memores Domini, and her friends.

I would like to give here very briefly my testimony of our sister, who has gone to heaven. Many of you knew Manuela for a long time. I was able to benefit from her presence and her service in the papal apartment, in the last five years, in a family dimension. Because of this I wish to thank the Lord for the gift of Manuela's life, for her faith, for her generous response to her vocation. Divine Providence led her to a discreet but precious service in the Pope's house. She was happy about this and took part joyfully in family moments: at Holy Mass in the morning, at vespers, at meals in common and in the various and significant happenings of the house.

Her departure, so sudden, and also the way in which she was taken, have given us great grief, which only faith can console. I find much support in thinking of the words that form the name of her community: Memores Domini. Meditating on these words, on the meaning, I find a sense of peace, because they call to a profound relationship that is stronger than death. Memores Domini means: "those who remember the Lord," namely, persons who live in the memory of God and Jesus, and in this daily remembrance, full of faith and love, they find the meaning of everything, from small actions to great choices, of work, study and fraternity. The memory of the Lord fills the heart with profound joy, as an ancient hymn of the Church says: "Jesu dulcis memoria, dans vera cordis gaudia" [Jesus sweet memory, that gives true joy to the heart].

Hence, because of this it gives me peace to think that Manuela is a "memor Domini," a person who lived in the memory of the Lord. This relationship with him is more profound than the abyss of death. It is a bond that nothing and no one can break, as St. Paul says: "[Nothing] can separate us from the love of God, in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Romans 8:39). Yes, if we remember the Lord, it is because he first remembers us. We are "memores Domini" because he is "memor nostri," he remembers us with love of a parent, a brother, a friend, also at the moment of death. If at times it seems that at that moment he is absent, that he forgets us, in reality we are always present to him, we are in his heart. Wherever we fall, we fall into his hands. Precisely there, where no one can accompany us, God awaits us: He is our Life.

Dear brothers and sisters, in this faith full of hope, which is Mary's faith near the cross of Jesus, I celebrated the Mass for Manuela's soul the very morning of her death. And while I accompany with prayer the Christian rite of her burial, I impart with affection to her family, her fellow sisters and all of you my blessing.

Manuela Camagni

Pope Benedict XVI prays beside the coffin of Manuela Camagni

From Zenit

"Rediscovering the True Face of the Parish"

2010-05-25T07:33:00.000-07:00

Faith Is Given Us so that
We Communicate It
The text of Fr Giussani’s written contribution to the XXI plenary assembly of the Pontifical Council for the Laity on “Rediscovering the True Face of the Parish.” Rome, November 24-28, 2004

Can man save himself? To this question Christ answers, “No, man cannot save himself; it is in the companionship of God, of the Mystery who has set Himself beside him, part of his humanity, that Christ is the answer to man’s supreme need, the need for his own salvation.” This is the inconceivable and unforeseeable answer to man’s need for salvation. So the more man is aware of his limitation (his frailty, his wrongdoing, his incapacity), the more he is able to open himself to this answer. I think Reinhold Niebuhr’s phrase is significant: “Nothing is so incredible as the answer to a question that is not asked.” The gravest opposition, the greatest obstacle to the acknowledgment of Christ is, first and foremost, the non-acknowledgment of one’s own human need, of the question that our humanity itself is.
How is what happened two thousand years ago present here and now? The answer, as each of us knows, more or less, is: in the Church, the body of Christ, as St Paul says in his Letter to the Ephesians, the Church “in which is the fullness of Christ” (Cf. Eph 1: 22-23).
It is in the Church that Christ is present. The Holy Father noted this in a speech that is memorable for me. “The rising up of the ecclesial body as an institution, its persuasive force and binding energy, have their roots in the dynamism of sacramental grace” (John Paul II to the priests participating in a course of spiritual exercises promoted by Communion and Liberation, Castelgandolfo, September 12, 1985). In other words, the rising up of the ecclesial body, which is the way in which Christ is present here and now, is the work of the Spirit, Dominum et vivificantem.

But how does the Church happen in its relationship with me, with the person? How does this influence, this nexus come about? The Pope’s reply is that the rising up of the ecclesial body as an institution, as a persuasive force and binding energy, has its roots in the dynamism of sacramental grace, beginning with Baptism. “However, it finds its expressive form, its operative modality, its concrete historical incidence, through the various charisms that characterize a temperament and a personal history” (Ibid).
The Pope calls “charism” the mode with which the Church takes up expressive form in a concrete, historical detail. The expressive form implies a determined, concrete, historical detail, and remains abstract if not considered up to this point. Its concrete historical incidence is realized by means of the various charisms that characterize a temperament and a particular history. Let’s keep in mind that the word “charism” has the same root, charis, as the word “grace,” and points to the energy with which the Spirit, in its intervention, recreates the follower of Christ. If it were not to become concrete, adequate to my temperament and to my history, the Church would remain abstract.

In the same address, the Pope went on: “The charisms of the Spirit always create affinities destined to sustain each person in his objective task in the Church” (Ibid). A communion is created through this affinity: “The creation of this sort of communion is a universal law. Living it out is an aspect of obedience to the great mystery of the Spirit” (Ibid).
What is obedience to the great mystery of the Spirit? Only one thing: “To believe in Jesus Christ.” Christ becomes present here and now through a charism that, by valuing temperament, personality, and personal sensitivity and history, creates an affinity and this establishes a communion; to obey this communion is to obey the great mystery of the Spirit. It is to go to Christ!

Let us imagine a parish with three thousand inhabitants and only one priest. He tries his best every Sunday from the pulpit, but leaves the faithful indifferent. In this town, the faith languishes; people go to Church in virtue of memories that still live on. Those who have a bit of life in them owe it to a personal piety. That priest is an ineffectual personality, so he is transferred–he gets a promotion. Another priest comes; he has more seniority, but he is sent there because he has fallen out with the Curia. On the first Sunday, he preaches at Mass, and immediately five people out of the five hundred or so present are struck by what he says, and feel the need to get more involved with the Church and with the faith. Imagine that those five people go separately to the new priest and tell him, “Listen, I was moved by what you said on Sunday and I realize that the faith has to involve my life and I want my life to be involved in the faith.” So, since there are few structures in the town, the priest says, “Let’s get together and form a small pastoral council.” He will try firstly to nurture this small group, and with their help he will try to tackle the problems in the parish. As two of them are man and wife, and rather well-off, since he is a doctor and she a teacher, they set up some initiative in the town, perhaps a small health center to help poor people, or a study group for youngsters. Then some more families join them, and after some months the parish is changed beyond recognition. There is an intense participation in the Church’s life and a great familiarity between the priest and his people; there is a kind of vibration of hope in those people, a desire to get to know the faith and the Church’s teaching that was not there before. This happened because the priest who went there had a personality, a sensitivity, a temperament and a personal history that got things moving, that created movement. What happened is called “movement.” With the previous parish priest it didn’t happen. It was not for any fault of his, but because the times of the Spirit are the times of the Spirit. So, in the case of the second parish priest, a charism was at work and a charism is characterized by historical incidence.

Without the movement I have tried to describe, a parish is arid and remains a mere institution. I have told my friends many times about my late mother and her priest, Fr Amedeo, in Desio. Through his presence in the confessional, more than through the youth center, he created a reality of hundreds of women, all from Catholic families and devoted to the parish, all Children of Mary. They would go to Mass at five o’clock every morning, and were always ready to help when the parish needed something. Everyone in the parish knew them. That priest in his confessional had created a movement in the parish, and in the town. If there had been a hundred thousand instead of a hundred of them, even the Corriere della Sera would have written about them! Fr Amedeo, the curate in my huge parish sixty years ago, guided so many young people to Christian maturity, who then went on to bring up so many sound Christian families, and they were always ready to help the parish priest when he needed it.
With this example, I wanted to stress the absolutely personal nature of the way in which Christ, present here and now in the reality of the Church, becomes expressive, persuasive, educationally effective and constructive; able to build up a people.
So, I believe the Pope introduced the term “movement” as an ecclesiological category fundamental for describing pastoral dynamics.

Thus the word “movement” is not a problem that touches me particularly because we constitute a movement recognized by the Church, but is rather something that indicates a permanent mode in the Church’s history through which the faith becomes persuasive, educationally effective and constructive, and brings a change in life. This appears clear when we read St Paul’s letters, which mention Aquila and Prisca. The Spirit came down into the hearts of people who went to each others’ homes through a personal temperament and history. If we don’t understand this origin of a movement, we are unable to grasp how the institution we have in our hands–a parish, an association, or a group–can become alive, and so we can first become pretentious, and then disgusted and cynical, without hope. For example, if I, as a parish priest, have people coming to me saying, “We want to work with you,” and see that they are enthusiastic and fresh thanks to something that has moved them (perhaps the encounter with a movement), the first thing I must desire is that they deepen faithfully what has aroused them, the experience that has struck them. Only in this case can the parish community benefit.
The aim of all that happens in the Church is to adhere to Christ so as to make His victory over the world present, and thus to anticipate the end of the world.

This phrase stresses the doctrinal content, from an existential point of view, the living object of faith, adhesion of life: “Whether you eat or drink, whether you wake or sleep, whether you live or die” (Cf. 1Thess 5:10)–in other words, everything–so that the world may be ever more imbued with the miracle of a witness, that is to say, that the world may acknowledge Him more and more. This is mission. Christ Himself has already defined the reason for which He came in Chapter 17 of John’s Gospel, “I came that they may have eternal life: and this is eternal life, that they know You, the one true God and Jesus Christ whom You have sent” (Cf. Jn 17:3-4).
The aim of the faith we have been given is the mission, and the mission is not for the Hereafter, but for here and now. This is the category of our relationship with the world, whose first aspect is in us; it arises from the astonishment of feeling ourselves created alive.
The more a parish finds priests and faithful for whom the surprise of the Christ event, encountered and acknowledged, becomes the all-embracing horizon for thought and action and impassioned love for the mystery and for the destiny of their fellow men, the more the parish will be alive.

So the word “movement” describes the existential historical way in which the Church becomes a living Church. I believe that a priest who has a parish, or a priest who has a community of a movement, and doesn’t pray the Spirit and doesn’t tend to arouse some reality of “movement,” will leave the Church like a tomb. The only thing that will be left of his parish will be the office, and the only thing that will be left of the community will be a group with a purely psychological or sociological value.
If a parish is alive, it is a movement, in the sense spoken of by John Paul II: “The Church herself is ‘a movement’” (To the participants in the Convention “Movements in the Church,” Castelgandolfo, September 27, 1981). So, the theme of movement is in no sense an alternative to the institution, but indicates the way in which the institution becomes alive and missionary, because the faith is not given us in order that we preserve it, but in order that we communicate it. If we don’t have the passion to communicate it, we don’t preserve it.

reprinted from Traces online

East Poster 2010

2010-05-02T14:52:00.000-07:00

The Prodigal Son, by Marc Chagall

The above image is the one used on the 2010 Communion and Liberation Easter Poster. The two quotations printed on the poster this year are:

"The Christian Good News responds positively to man’s thirst for justice. What then is the justice of Christ? Above all, it is the justice that comes from grace, where it is not man who makes amends, heals himself and others. Conversion to Christ ultimately means this: to exit the illusion of self-sufficiency in order to discover and accept one’s own need – the need of others and God, the need of His forgiveness and His friendship" (Benedict XVI, from his 2010 message for Lent, on the theme of justice).

And the second quote comes from Is It Possible to Live This Way: An Unusual Approach to Christianity, Volume 3: Charity, by Monsignor Luigi Giussani:

"This is the point: God was moved by our nothingness. Not only that. God was moved by our betrayal, by our crude, forgetful, and treacherous poverty, by our pettiness. Like a father and mother who cry with emotion, a cry that is totally determined by the desire for the child's good, the child's destiny. It's compassion, pity, passion. He had pity on me."

Conquered by fascination

2010-04-13T18:41:00.000-07:00

Jesus Appears to the Disciples Behind Closed Doors, Duccio di Buoninsegna

VATICAN CITY, APRIL 13, 2010.- Here is a translation of the address Benedict XVI gave April 7 at the general audience in St. Peter's Square.

* * *

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

The traditional Wednesday General Audience is inundated today by the luminous joy of Easter. In these days, in fact, the Church celebrates the mystery of the Resurrection and experiences the great joy that stems from the Good News of Christ's victory over evil and death. A joy that is prolonged not only in the Octave of Easter, but is extended for 50 days until Pentecost. After the mourning and consternation of Good Friday, and after the silence charged with expectation of Holy Saturday, here is the stupendous announcement: "The Lord has risen indeed, and has appeared to Simon!" (Luke 24:34). In the whole history of the world, this is the "Good News" par excellence, it is the Gospel proclaimed and passed over the centuries, from generation to generation.

The Lord's Easter is the supreme and insuperable act of the power of God. It is an absolutely extraordinary event, the most beautiful and mature fruit of the "mystery of God." It is so extraordinary that it cannot be recounted in its dimensions which escape our human capacity of knowledge and research. And yet, this is also an "historical" event, real, witnessed and documented. It is the event that founds the whole of our faith. It is the central content in which we believe and the principal content of why we believe.

The New Testament does not describe Jesus' Resurrection in its realization. It refers only to the testimonies of those whom Jesus met in person after resurrecting. The three Synoptic Gospels recount this announcement: "He has risen!" -- it is proclaimed initially by some angels. Hence, it is an announcement whose origin is in God; but God entrusts it immediately to his "messengers" so that they will transmit it to everyone, And thus it is these same angels who invite the women, who arrived in the early morning at the sepulcher, to go quickly to tell the disciples: that "he has risen from the dead, and behold, he is going before you to Galilee; there you will see him" (Matthew 28:7). Thus, through the women of the Gospel, that divine mandate reaches one and all so that, in turn, they will transmit to others, with fidelity and courage, this same news: beautiful news, joyful and bearer of joy.

Yes, dear friends, our faith is founded on the constant and faithful transmission of this "Good News." And we, today, want to express to God our profound gratitude for the innumerable multitudes of believers in Christ who have preceded us in the centuries, because they have never defaulted in the fundamental mandate to proclaim the Gospel that they had received. The Good News of Easter, therefore, requires the work of enthusiastic and courageous witnesses. Each disciple of Christ, also each one of us, is called to be a witness. This is the precise, committed and exciting mandate of the risen Lord. The "news" of new life in Christ must shine in the life of the Christian, it must be alive and active in the one who bears it, really capable of changing the heart, the whole existence. It is alive first of all because Christ himself is its living and vivifying soul. Saint Mark reminds us of it at the end of his Gospel, where he writes that the Apostles "went forth and preached everywhere, while the Lord worked with them and confirmed the message by the signs that attended it" (Mark 16:20).

The Apostles' event is also ours and that of every believer, of every disciple who makes himself a "herald. "In fact, we also, are sure that the Lord , today as yesterday, works together with his witnesses. This is a fact that we can recognize every time we see the seeds of a true and lasting peace sprout, there where the commitment of Christians and of men of good will is animated by respect for justice, by patient dialogue, by convinced esteem for others, by selflessness, by personal and community sacrifice. Unfortunately we also see in the world much suffering, much violence, much misunderstanding. The celebration of the Paschal Mystery, the joyful contemplation of the Resurrection of Christ, who defeats sin and death with the force of the Love of God is a propitious occasion to rediscover and profess with more conviction our trust in the risen Lord, who accompanies the witnesses of his word working miracles together with them. We will truly and absolutely be witnesses of the risen Jesus when we reflect in ourselves the miracle of his love: when in our words, and even more so in our deeds, in full consistency with the Gospel, the voice and hand of Jesus himself is recognized.

Hence, the Lord sends us everywhere as his witnesses. But we can only be so from and in continual reference to the paschal experience, which Mary Magdalen expressed when announcing to the other disciples: "I have seen the Lord" (John 20:18). In this personal encounter with the Risen One is the indestructible foundation and the central content of our faith, the fresh and inexhaustible source of our hope, the ardent dynamism of our charity. Thus our Christian life itself with coincide fully with the proclamation: "Christ the Lord has truly risen." Hence, let us allow ourselves to be conquered by the fascination of the Resurrection of Christ. May the Virgin Mary sustain us with her protection and help us to taste fully the Easter joy, so that we will be able to take it in turn to all our brothers.

Once again, Happy Easter to all!

[The Holy Father then addressed the people in several languages. In English, he said:]

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

Our General Audience today is marked by the spiritual joy of Easter, as the Church continues her celebration of Christ's glorious resurrection from the dead. The resurrection is the greatest of God's mighty acts in history; mysterious beyond all imagining, it is also a real event attested by trustworthy witnesses who in turn became messengers of this Good News before the world. In every generation, the Gospel of Christ, crucified and risen, must constantly be proclaimed anew. Each of us, as a disciple of Christ, is called to testify to the reality and power of the new life bestowed by the Risen Lord upon those who believe. Saint Mark, at the end of his Gospel, tells us that the Lord "worked with" the Apostles, and "confirmed the message by the signs which accompanied it" (Mk 16:20). Today too, the Risen Christ wishes to work with us, so that we might reflect his words in our words and reveal the power of his love by our actions. During the Easter season, may our personal encounter with the Lord deepen our faith, hope and love, and inspire us to proclaim, with our lips and in our lives, the Good News that "Christ is truly risen!"

reprinted from Zenit

You and I are angels

2010-04-13T07:49:00.000-07:00

Two Marys at the Tomb, by Bartolomeo Schedoni

CASTEL GANDOLFO, Italy, APRIL 12, 2010.- Here is a translation of the address Benedict XVI gave Easter Monday, April 5, before praying the Regina Caeli in Castel Gandolfo.

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Dear Brothers and Sisters:

In the light of Easter, which we celebrate during this whole week, I renew my most cordial wish for peace and joy. As you know, the Monday following the Sunday of the Resurrection is called traditionally "the Angel's Monday." It is very interesting to reflect more deeply on this reference to the "angel." Of course, our thought goes immediately to the evangelical accounts of the resurrection of Jesus, in which the figure of the Lord's messenger appears. St. Matthew writes: "And behold, there was a great earthquake; for an angel of the Lord descended from heaven and came and rolled back the stone, and sat upon it. His appearance was like lightning, and his raiment white as snow" (Matthew 28:2-3).

All the evangelists specify later that, when the women went to the sepulcher and found it open and empty, it was an angel who announced to them that Jesus had resurrected. In St. Matthew this messenger of the Lord says to them: "Do not be afraid; for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; for he has risen, as he said" (Matthew 28:5-6); then he showed them the empty tomb and told them to take the announcement to the disciples. St. Mark describes the angel as "a young man, dressed in a white robe," who gives the women the same message (cf. Mark 16:5-6). St. Luke speaks of "two men in dazzling apparel," who remind the women that Jesus had announced to them much earlier his death and resurrection (cf. Luke 24:4-7). St. John also speaks of "two angels in white"; it is Mary Magdalene who sees them while weeping near the sepulcher, and they say to her: "Woman, why are you weeping?" (John 20:11-13).

However, the angel of the resurrection also has another meaning. It is appropriate to recall that the term "angel," in addition to describing the angels, spiritual creatures gifted with intelligence and will, servants and messengers of God, is also one of the oldest titles attributed to Jesus himself. For example, in Tertullian, in the 3rd century, we read: "He -- Christ -- has also been called 'angel of counsel,' that is, herald, term that denotes an office, not his nature. In fact, he had to proclaim to the world the great plan of the Father for man's restoration" ("De carne Christi," 14). Thus writes Tertullian. Consequently, Jesus Christ, Son of God, is also called the angel of God the Father: He is the Messenger par excellence of his love.

Dear friends, let us think now of what the resurrected Jesus said to the Apostles: "As the Father has sent me, even so I send you" (John 20:21); and he communicated his Holy Spirit to them. This means that, as Jesus was the herald of the love of God the Father, we must also be so of the charity of Christ: We are messengers of his resurrection, of his victory over evil and death, bearers of his divine love. Of course we continue to be by nature men and women, but we receive the mission of "angels," messengers of Christ: We are all given it in baptism and in confirmation. Priests, ministers of Christ, receive it in a special way, through the sacrament of Holy Orders; I am pleased to stress it in this Year for Priests.

Dear brothers and sisters, we now turn to the Virgin Mary, invoking her as Regina Caeli, Queen of Heaven. May she help us to accept fully the grace of the Easter mystery and to be courageous and joyful messengers of the resurrection of Christ.

reprinted from Zenit

Mothers and Children at risk

2010-04-13T07:22:00.000-07:00

NEW YORK, APRIL 13, 2010.- Here is the address Archbishop Celestino Migliore, permanent observer of the Holy See at the United Nations, delivered Monday before the Economic and Social Council's commission on population and development.

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Mr. Chairman,

As this Commission on Population and Development convenes in the midst of an ongoing economic and financial crisis, we would do well to listen to a growing opinion among economists that demographic trends are part of the problem and cannot be overlooked as an important part of the solution. The demographic crisis that in a few decades has brought down annual population growth rates from 7% to below 1% in many parts of the world, in tandem with the aging of the population, has resulted in devastating effects for the economy and governance.

The correction of the population deficit with constant immigration does not seem to resolve the problems even in the short term. The same demographic policies that caused population growth rates to plunge to unsustainable levels need to be reviewed and re-designed along with appropriate social policies to encourage births.

Among the topics assigned to this year’s CPD session, global health, morbidity, mortality and development, the preparatory documents focus mainly on maternal mortality.

According to UN statistics there are some half-million maternal deaths annually of which approximately ninety-nine per cent occur in developing countries. Not only do the lives of these mothers end in tragedy but also the lives of their babies begin in turmoil. In the aftermath, the chance of survival of their young children decreases dramatically resulting in the disintegration of their families and hindrance to local development.

Sadly, these deaths represent only the tip of the iceberg. It is estimated that for every mortality, thirty more women suffer long-term damage to their health, such as from obstetric fistulae. The physical devastation caused by fistulae makes them complete outcasts and isolated by family and society. They suffer pain, humiliation, and lifelong disability if not treated. World-wide perhaps two million of these poor, young and forgotten mothers are living with the problem, most of whom are in Africa. These deaths of mothers and babies are all the more shameful especially since they are readily preventable and treatable.

The consensus of the obstetrical community is that mothers need essential prenatal care, skilled attendants at all deliveries and specialist care for life threatening complications. And yet, programs focused on providing the services that ensure mothers and their babies survive pregnancy are badly underfunded.

Investments in education and long-term development programs can provide communities with the means for improving their own health. However, the emigration of individuals with medical knowledge and skills from developing countries results in the loss of the very expertise and people necessary to improve the health-care systems in those countries.

In addition, governments must continue to address the urgent health needs of children around the world. In 2008 alone, there were over 243 million cases of malaria leading to over 800,000 deaths. Similarly, treatable and avoidable respiratory infections, digestive diseases and illnesses resulting from inadequate nutrition continue to be the main causes of death for children in the developing world. Diseases which long have been eliminated in developed countries continue to devastate children in the developing world and global solidarity is necessary to ensure that poor children have access to necessary medication and nutrition.

Mr. Chairman,

In extending health care to all, civil society, including faith-based organizations, must be an engaged partner. In many corners of the globe, Catholic hospitals and clinics continue to be the front-line providers for primary health care, in particular to the most marginalized of society. These nonprofit organizations provide care to those whom society has left behind or for whom offering services is too difficult or too dangerous. By living with and amongst those they serve these organizations promote solidarity within the community and contribute a unique understanding of the community’s needs.

Thank you, Mr. Chairman.

reprinted from Zenit

Pope's homily for the Easter Vigil

2010-04-12T07:55:00.000-07:00

VATICAN CITY, APRIL 4, 2010.- Here is a Vatican translation of Benedict XVI's homily at the Easter Vigil.

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Dear Brothers and Sisters,

An ancient Jewish legend from the apocryphal book "The life of Adam and Eve" recounts that, in his final illness, Adam sent his son Seth together with Eve into the region of Paradise to fetch the oil of mercy, so that he could be anointed with it and healed. The two of them went in search of the tree of life, and after much praying and weeping on their part, the Archangel Michael appeared to them, and told them they would not obtain the oil of the tree of mercy and that Adam would have to die. Subsequently, Christian readers added a word of consolation to the Archangel’s message, to the effect that after 5,500 years the loving King, Christ, would come, the Son of God who would anoint all those who believe in him with the oil of his mercy. "The oil of mercy from eternity to eternity will be given to those who are reborn of water and the Holy Spirit. Then the Son of God, Christ, abounding in love, will descend into the depths of the earth and will lead your father into Paradise, to the tree of mercy." This legend lays bare the whole of humanity’s anguish at the destiny of illness, pain and death that has been imposed upon us. Man’s resistance to death becomes evident: somewhere – people have constantly thought – there must be some cure for death. Sooner or later it should be possible to find the remedy not only for this or that illness, but for our ultimate destiny – for death itself. Surely the medicine of immortality must exist. Today too, the search for a source of healing continues. Modern medical science strives, if not exactly to exclude death, at least to eliminate as many as possible of its causes, to postpone it further and further, to prolong life more and more. But let us reflect for a moment: what would it really be like if we were to succeed, perhaps not in excluding death totally, but in postponing it indefinitely, in reaching an age of several hundred years? Would that be a good thing? Humanity would become extraordinarily old, there would be no more room for youth. Capacity for innovation would die, and endless life would be no paradise, if anything a condemnation. The true cure for death must be different. It cannot lead simply to an indefinite prolongation of this current life. It would have to transform our lives from within. It would need to create a new life within us, truly fit for eternity: it would need to transform us in such a way as not to come to an end with death, but only then to begin in fullness. What is new and exciting in the Christian message, in the Gospel of Jesus Christ, was and is that we are told: yes indeed, this cure for death, this true medicine of immortality, does exist. It has been found. It is within our reach. In baptism, this medicine is given to us. A new life begins in us, a life that matures in faith and is not extinguished by the death of the old life, but is only then fully revealed.

To this some, perhaps many, will respond: I certainly hear the message, but I lack faith. And even those who want to believe will ask: but is it really so? How are we to picture it to ourselves? How does this transformation of the old life come about, so as to give birth to the new life that knows no death? Once again, an ancient Jewish text can help us form an idea of the mysterious process that begins in us at baptism. There it is recounted how the patriarch Enoch was taken up to the throne of God. But he was filled with fear in the presence of the glorious angelic powers, and in his human weakness he could not contemplate the face of God. "Then God said to Michael," to quote from the book of Enoch, "‘Take Enoch and remove his earthly clothing. Anoint him with sweet oil and vest him in the robes of glory!’ And Michael took off my garments, anointed me with sweet oil, and this oil was more than a radiant light … its splendour was like the rays of the sun. When I looked at myself, I saw that I was like one of the glorious beings" (Ph. Rech, Inbild des Kosmos, II 524).

Precisely this – being reclothed in the new garment of God – is what happens in baptism, so the Christian faith tells us. To be sure, this changing of garments is something that continues for the whole of life. What happens in baptism is the beginning of a process that embraces the whole of our life – it makes us fit for eternity, in such a way that, robed in the garment of light of Jesus Christ, we can appear before the face of God and live with him for ever.

In the rite of baptism there are two elements in which this event is expressed and made visible in a way that demands commitment for the rest of our lives. There is first of all the rite of renunciation and the promises. In the early Church, the one to be baptized turned towards the west, the symbol of darkness, sunset, death and hence the dominion of sin. The one to be baptized turned in that direction and pronounced a threefold "no": to the devil, to his pomp and to sin. The strange word "pomp", that is to say the devil’s glamour, referred to the splendour of the ancient cult of the gods and of the ancient theatre, in which it was considered entertaining to watch people being torn limb from limb by wild beasts. What was being renounced was a type of culture that ensnared man in the adoration of power, in the world of greed, in lies, in cruelty. It was an act of liberation from the imposition of a form of life that was presented as pleasure and yet hastened the destruction of all that was best in man. This renunciation – albeit in less dramatic form – remains an essential part of baptism today. We remove the "old garments", which we cannot wear in God’s presence. Or better put: we begin to remove them. This renunciation is actually a promise in which we hold out our hand to Christ, so that he may guide us and reclothe us. What these "garments" are that we take off, what the promise is that we make, becomes clear when we see in the fifth chapter of the Letter to the Galatians what Paul calls "works of the flesh" – a term that refers precisely to the old garments that we remove. Paul designates them thus: "fornication, impurity, licentiousness, idolatry, sorcery, enmity, strife, jealousy, anger, selfishness, dissension, party spirit, envy, drunkenness, carousing and the like" (Gal 5:19ff.). These are the garments that we remove: the garments of death.

Then, in the practice of the early Church, the one to be baptized turned towards the east – the symbol of light, the symbol of the newly rising sun of history, the symbol of Christ. The candidate for baptism determines the new direction of his life: faith in the Trinitarian God to whom he entrusts himself. Thus it is God who clothes us in the garment of light, the garment of life. Paul calls these new "garments" "fruits of the spirit", and he describes them as follows: "love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control" (Gal 5:22).

In the early Church, the candidate for baptism was then truly stripped of his garments. He descended into the baptismal font and was immersed three times – a symbol of death that expresses all the radicality of this removal and change of garments. His former death-bound life the candidate consigns to death with Christ, and he lets himself be drawn up by and with Christ into the new life that transforms him for eternity. Then, emerging from the waters of baptism the neophytes were clothed in the white garment, the garment of God’s light, and they received the lighted candle as a sign of the new life in the light that God himself had lit within them. They knew that they had received the medicine of immortality, which was fully realized at the moment of receiving holy communion. In this sacrament we receive the body of the risen Lord and we ourselves are drawn into this body, firmly held by the One who has conquered death and who carries us through death.

In the course of the centuries, the symbols were simplified, but the essential content of baptism has remained the same. It is no mere cleansing, still less is it a somewhat complicated initiation into a new association. It is death and resurrection, rebirth to new life.

Indeed, the cure for death does exist. Christ is the tree of life, once more within our reach. If we remain close to him, then we have life. Hence, during this night of resurrection, with all our hearts we shall sing the alleluia, the song of joy that has no need of words. Hence, Paul can say to the Philippians: "Rejoice in the Lord always, again I will say, rejoice!" (Phil 4:4). Joy cannot be commanded. It can only be given. The risen Lord gives us joy: true life. We are already held for ever in the love of the One to whom all power in heaven and on earth has been given (cf. Mt 28:18). In this way, confident of being heard, we make our own the Church’s Prayer over the Gifts from the liturgy of this night: Accept the prayers and offerings of your people. With your help may this Easter mystery of our redemption bring to perfection the saving work you have begun in us. Amen.

©Copyright 2010 - Libreria Editrice Vaticana

reprinted from Zenit

Benedict XVI on Divine Mercy

2010-04-12T06:36:00.000-07:00

Jezu Ufam Tobie (2002-Polish for ‘Jesus I trust in you’) by Stephen B. Whatley

CASTEL GANDOLFO, Italy, APRIL 11, 2010.- Here is a translation of the address Benedict XVI gave before praying the midday Regina Caeli with those gathered at the Apostolic Palace in Castel Gandolfo and, via television, with those gathered in St. Peter's Square at the Vatican.

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Dear brothers and sisters!

This Sunday is the conclusion of the Octave of Easter. It is a unique day "made by the Lord," marked by the resurrection and the joy of the disciples in seeing Jesus. From antiquity this Sunday has been called Sunday "in albis," from the Latin word "alba" (white), because of the white vestments the neophytes put on at their baptism on Easter night and set aside eight days later. On April 30, 2000, Venerable John Paul II named this same Sunday for Divine Mercy on the occasion of the canonization of Sister Maria Faustina Kowalska.

The Gospel passage from St. John (20:19-31) for this Sunday is rich with divine mercy and goodness. There it is told that Jesus, after the resurrection, visited his disciples, passing through the closed doors of the cenacle. St. Augustine explains that "the closed doors did not impede the entrance of that body in which divinity lived. He who in his birth left the virginity of his mother intact could enter the cenacle despite the doors being closed" (In Ioh. 121, 4: CCL 36/7, 667); and St. Gregory the Great added that the Redeemer, after his resurrection, appeared with a body of an incorruptible and palpable nature but in the state of glory (cf. Hom. in Evag., 21,1: CCL 141, 219). Jesus showed the signs of the passion to the point of permitting the incredulous Thomas to touch him.

How is it possible, however, for a disciple to doubt? In reality the divine condescension allows us to draw profit even from the incredulous Thomas, together with the believing disciples. In fact, touching the Lord's wounds, the hesitant disciple not only heals his own diffidence but ours too.

The visit of the Risen One is not limited to the space of the cenacle but it goes beyond so that everyone can receive the gift of peace and life with the "creative breath." Indeed, twice Jesus says to the disciples: "Peace be with you!" and he adds: "As the Father has sent me, so I send you." Having said this, he breathes upon them, saying: "Receive the Holy Spirit. Those whose sins you forgive shall be forgiven and those whose sins you do not forgive shall not be forgiven." This is the mission of the Church perennially assisted by the Paraclete: to bring to all the glad tidings, the joyous reality of the merciful Love of God, "so that," as St. John says, "you believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and so that, believing, you may have life in his name" (20:31).

In light of this word, I encourage especially all pastors to follow the example of the saintly Curé d'Ars, who, "in his time was able to transform the hearts and the lives of so many people because he enabled them to experience the Lord's merciful love. Our own time urgently needs a similar proclamation and witness to the truth of Love" ("Letter Proclaiming a Year for Priests").

In this way we will render ever more familiar and close him who our eyes have not seen but whose infinite mercy we are absolutely certain of. We ask Mary, the Queen of the Apostles, to sustain the mission of the Church, and we invoke her exultant with joy.

reprinted from Zenit

It's all about love

2010-04-07T08:30:00.000-07:00

VATICAN CITY, APRIL 2, 2010.- Here is a translation of the meditation Benedict XVI gave today at the end of the Way of the Cross in the Roman Colosseum.

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Dear brothers and sisters,

In prayer, with stirred and recollected spirits, we have tonight retraced the path of the cross. With Christ we have climbed Calvary and we have meditated on his suffering, rediscovering how profound is the love he has had and has for us.

But in this moment we do not want to limit ourselves to a compassion dictated merely by our weak sentiments. Rather we want to feel that we participate in the suffering of Jesus; we want to accompany our Teacher, sharing his passion in our lives, in the life of the Church, for the life of the world. Because we know that precisely in the cross, in the limitless love where one gives all of himself, is the fount of grace, liberation, peace and salvation.

The texts, meditations and prayers of the Way of the Cross have helped us to gaze upon this mystery of the Passion, to learn the immense lesson of love that God gave us on the cross, so that in us is born a renewed desire to convert our hearts, living each day this same love, the only force capable of changing the world.

This night we have contemplated Jesus' face full of pain, ridiculed, insulted, disfigured by the sin of man. Tomorrow night we will contemplate his face full of joy, radiant and luminous. Since the moment Christ was placed in the sepulcher, the tomb and death are no longer hopeless places where history is closed with the most complete failure, where man touches the ultimate limit of his powerlessness. Good Friday is the day of greatest hope, that matured on the cross.

While Jesus dies, while he exhales his breath, he sighs crying out with a loud voice, "Father into your hands I commend my spirit" (Luke 23:46). Surrendering his existence, given into the hands of the Father, he knows that his death becomes fount of life. As the seed in the ground has to be broken so the plant can grow. If the grain of wheat fallen in the earth does not die, it remains alone, but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Jesus is the grain of wheat that falls in the earth, is torn, is broken, dies, and because of this, can bear fruit. From the day on which Christ was raised up on it, the cross, which looks like a sign of abandonment, loneliness and failure, has become a new beginning. From the depths of death is raised up the promise of eternal life; upon the cross already shines the victorious splendor of the Easter dawn.

In the silence that envelops this night, in the silence that envelops Holy Saturday, touched by the limitless love of God, we live awaiting the dawn of the third day, the dawn of the victory of the love of God, the dawn of the light that enables the eyes of the heart to see life, difficulties and suffering in a new way. Our failures, our disillusions, our bitternesses that seem to signal the collapse of everything, are enlightened by hope. The act of love of the cross, confirmed by the Father and the radiant light of the resurrection, envelops and transforms everything. From betrayal, friendship can be born; from rejection, pardon; from hate, love.

Grant us, Lord, to carry our cross with love, our daily crosses, in the certainty that they are enlightened with the radiance of your Easter. Amen.

reprinted from Zenit

Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem preaches in front of the empty tomb

2010-04-07T07:50:00.000-07:00

JERUSALEM, APRIL 4, 2010.- Here is the Easter Sunday homily given by the Latrin Patriarch of Jerusalem, Archbishop Fouad Twal.

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Dear brothers and sisters, the Lord is risen! He is truly risen!

That Sunday morning the two apostles, Peter and John and before them the pious women with the Magdalene, reached this very tomb. Great was their amazement at seeing the stone rolled away form the mouth of the tomb. Even greater was their distress at not finding the Lord’s body there.

Who had dared to remove that huge stone?

Perhaps the Roman soldiers? Surely not! A stunt like that would have certainly cost them their lives. The chief priests? Impossible! It was just these men who had demanded Jesus’ crucifixion. The apostles? No, since they were cowering and hidden! The pious women, then? But how could a few women lacking in physical strength move a rock that only several robust men could have handled?

For a few instants, the two apostles stood facing and wondering at the empty tomb, with its funeral cloth and wrappings. Up to then they had not yet understood the Scriptures. But there they began to remember the words that Our Lord himself had spoken to them when he was still and alive and which the very angels had communicated to the pious women: “He is not here, for he has been raised just as he said” (Mt 28:06). These words were confirmed shortly after by the numerous apparitions of Christ, who desired to show himself alive to his disciples, strengthening them in their faith in Him, who died and rose again: “Look at my hands and my feet, that it is I myself" (Lk 24:39).

We, bishops, priests and faithful, men and women, young and old from all Churches and from all peoples, have the privilege of standing today before this same empty tomb with a different emotion, with great amazement, surrounded by a cloud of so many witnesses who at that time and throughout history have witnessed to the truth of the Resurrection, giving their very lives for Christ.

Weighing in on the side of the Resurrection there is the witness of the empty tomb, the numerous apparitions of the Rison One to his disciples, and of history itself. Since it is certainly held that credible testimony comes from the dignity of the witness, we cannot but trust the testimony of the apostles and of the women who saw the Lord, who saw him alive after having gone to the tomb and who were then ready to die in order to affirm their testimony.

Science and archeology, of course, have never found the Lord’s body since he is risen! His enemies, not managing to come up with his body, spread the false rumor of it having been stolen. In reality, they were unable to find his remains because He, after having suffered, was alive, had risen. The apostles shouted out exultantly the announcement of his resurrection and we, with them, do likewise. Were we to choose to be silent, were we to decide to keep quiet, the stones before us would cry out in our place since these very stones are mum and ongoing witnesses to the Resurrection of the Lord, as he himself said.

This year, then, our joy is double. All of us, the pastors and faithful of the diverse Churches, are celebrating the same Easter on the same day in the same place. It is the same voice. The Christians of all the world shout out today in a loud voice: “Christ is Risen!” Together with the Oriental Liturgy we praise Christ who “by his death has trodden death under foot and given life again to those who were in the tombs.” With the words of the Latin Liturgy we sing to the Lord of Life: “Victimae paschali laudes immolent christiani. Agnus redemit oves, Christus innocens Patri reconciliavit peccatores.”

Perhaps someone might be disturbed by the overlapping of prayers and songs that are heard at the same time and in diverse rites. Yet this seeming cacophony, lived in faith becomes instead a symphony that expresses the unity of the faith and of the joyful celebration of the Lord’s victory over evil and death, of the One who arose again on the third day precisely from this tomb. Yes, we are the Church of Cavalry, the Church of the empty Tomb, and of the glorious Resurrection!

Today more than ever we need hope and a special kind of strength in order to conquer the evil that is within us and around us. This year, 2010, has seen two terrible earthquakes, in Haiti and in Chile, with hundreds of thousands of victims. Thanks precisely to the hope that lives in the heart of every man and woman of good will, all of humanity was able to show a great deal of solidarity towards the survivors. Even our own Diocese participated: on the Fourth Sunday of Lent we collected the fruit of our abstinence and our fasting in order to offer succor to our brothers and sisters who were struck by such huge cataclysms, with the very same charity with which the world came to our aid in the suffering and privation that we witnessed not long ago.

This solidarity in our difficulties does much to strengthen the hope that is in us. We have said it and we repeat it: Today more than ever we need a lively hope in the midst of so much violence, in midst of bloody clashes and ethnic and religious divisions. The many wars, numerous conflicts and religious intolerance, besides the direct persecutions of which Christians are often victims, seem to confirm that the Prince of Darkness has conquered forever. But that is not the case! The small flock should not be afraid, as Jesus himself assures us: “Now the ruler of this world will be driven out. And when I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw everyone to myself" (Jn 12:31b-32).

From this sacred site that saw the most unexpected and surprising event in human history and that gives witness to the victory of Christ over death and evil, our Mother Church, united with the Church of Rome, turns to all the faithful of the Holy Land, to all the pilgrims, and even to the entire word, in order to greet them and wish them a joyful Easter. We pray for them and ask for their prayers for us so that the grace be given to all our parochial communities of our Diocese, extending over Jordan, Palestine, Israel and Cyprus, to be joyful witnesses of this event, so unique in human history.

We wish not to testify with our lips alone, but with our very lives. The Lord, himself, in fact, invites us with all the power of the Resurrection, to cast off the old man, who is a slave to sin, cast off death and impotence and to put on the new man created in His image and likeness. We will be witnesses not only by word, but by our lives, with sanctity and universal love, with our patience and our enduring in the Holy Land beside the Holy Places.

With Your strength, Risen Lord,
We hold out against the evil that is in us and around us.
Our trust does not come from ourselves,
But from You who have overcome the world.

We ask You for victory over our divisions, religious, political and familial;
Strength for our weakness, healing for our illnesses,
freedom for prisoners, return for our refugees,
peace and reconciliation for all people in conflict.

“This is the day that the Lord has made! Let us rejoice and be glad in it!” (Ps 117,24)

reprinted from Zenit

Inside the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, Jerusalem

Urbi et Orbi

2010-04-07T07:43:00.000-07:00

VATICAN CITY, APRIL 4, 2010.- Here is a Vatican translation of the Easter greetings Benedict XVI gave today at midday before giving his blessing “urbi et orbi.”

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Cantemus Domino: gloriose enim magnificatus est.
"Let us sing to the Lord, glorious his triumph!" (Liturgy of the Hours, Easter, Office of Readings, Antiphon 1).

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

I bring you the Easter proclamation in these words of the Liturgy, which echo the ancient hymn of praise sung by the Israelites after crossing the Red Sea. It is recounted in the Book of Exodus (cf 15:19-21) that when they had crossed the sea on dry land, and saw the Egyptians submerged by the waters, Miriam, the sister of Moses and Aaron, and the other women sang and danced to this song of joy: "Sing to the Lord, for he has triumphed wonderfully: horse and rider he has thrown into the sea!" Christians throughout the world repeat this canticle at the Easter Vigil, and a special prayer explains its meaning; a prayer that now, in the full light of the resurrection, we joyfully make our own: "Father, even today we see the wonders of the miracles you worked long ago. You once saved a single nation from slavery, and now you offer that salvation to all through baptism. May the peoples of the world become true sons of Abraham and prove worthy of the heritage of Israel."

The Gospel has revealed to us the fulfilment of the ancient figures: in his death and resurrection, Jesus Christ has freed us from the radical slavery of sin and opened for us the way towards the promised land, the Kingdom of God, the universal Kingdom of justice, love and peace. This "exodus" takes place first of all within man himself, and it consists in a new birth in the Holy Spirit, the effect of the baptism that Christ has given us in his Paschal Mystery. The old man yields his place to the new man; the old life is left behind, and a new life can begin (cf. Rom 6:4). But this spiritual "exodus" is the beginning of an integral liberation, capable of renewing us in every dimension – human, personal and social.

Yes, my brothers and sisters, Easter is the true salvation of humanity! If Christ – the Lamb of God – had not poured out his blood for us, we would be without hope, our destiny and the destiny of the whole world would inevitably be death. But Easter has reversed that trend: Christ’s resurrection is a new creation, like a graft that can regenerate the whole plant. It is an event that has profoundly changed the course of history, tipping the scales once and for all on the side of good, of life, of pardon. We are free, we are saved! Hence from deep within our hearts we cry out: "Let us sing to the Lord: glorious his triumph!"

The Christian people, having emerged from the waters of baptism, is sent out to the whole world to bear witness to this salvation, to bring to all people the fruit of Easter, which consists in a new life, freed from sin and restored to its original beauty, to its goodness and truth. Continually, in the course of two thousand years, Christians – especially saints – have made history fruitful with their lived experience of Easter. The Church is the people of the Exodus, because she constantly lives the Paschal Mystery and disseminates its renewing power in every time and place. In our days too, humanity needs an "exodus", not just superficial adjustment, but a spiritual and moral conversion. It needs the salvation of the Gospel, so as to emerge from a profound crisis, one which requires deep change, beginning with consciences.

I pray to the Lord Jesus that in the Middle East, and especially in the land sanctified by his death and resurrection, the peoples will accomplish a true and definitive "exodus" from war and violence to peace and concord. To the Christian communities who are experiencing trials and sufferings, especially in Iraq, the Risen Lord repeats those consoling and encouraging words that he addressed to the Apostles in the Upper Room: "Peace be with you!" (Jn 20:21).

For the countries in Latin America and the Caribbean that are seeing a dangerous resurgence of crimes linked to drug trafficking, let Easter signal the victory of peaceful coexistence and respect for the common good. May the beloved people of Haiti, devastated by the appalling tragedy of the earthquake, accomplish their own "exodus" from mourning and from despair to a new hope, supported by international solidarity. May the beloved citizens of Chile, who have had to endure another grave catastrophe, set about the task of reconstruction with tenacity, supported by their faith.

In the strength of the risen Jesus, may the conflicts in Africa come to an end, conflicts which continue to cause destruction and suffering, and may peace and reconciliation be attained, as guarantees of development. In particular I entrust to the Lord the future of the Democratic Republic of Congo, Guinea and Nigeria.

May the Risen Lord sustain the Christians who suffer persecution and even death for their faith, as for example in Pakistan. To the countries afflicted by terrorism and by social and religious discrimination, may He grant the strength to undertake the work of building dialogue and serene coexistence. To the leaders of nations, may Easter bring light and strength, so that economic and financial activity may finally be driven by the criteria of truth, justice and fraternal aid. May the saving power of Christ’s resurrection fill all of humanity, so that it may overcome the multiple tragic expressions of a "culture of death" which are becoming increasingly widespread, so as to build a future of love and truth in which every human life is respected and welcomed.

Dear brothers and sisters, Easter does not work magic. Just as the Israelites found the desert awaiting them on the far side of the Red Sea, so the Church, after the resurrection, always finds history filled with joy and hope, grief and anguish. And yet, this history is changed, it is marked by a new and eternal covenant, it is truly open to the future. For this reason, saved by hope, let us continue our pilgrimage, bearing in our hearts the song that is ancient and yet ever new: "Let us sing to the Lord: glorious his triumph!"

©Copyright 2010 - Libreria Editrice Vaticana

reprinted from Zenit

Born of the prayer of Jesus

2010-04-01T19:17:00.000-07:00

VATICAN CITY, APRIL 1, 2010.- Here is a Vatican translation of Benedict XVI's homily at the Mass of the Lord's Supper, held today in St. Peter's Basilica.

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Dear Brothers and Sisters,

In his Gospel, Saint John, more fully than the other three evangelists, reports in his own distinctive way the farewell discourses of Jesus; they appear as his testament and a synthesis of the core of his message. They are introduced by the washing of feet, in which Jesus’ redemptive ministry on behalf of a humanity needing purification is summed up in a gesture of humility. Jesus’ words end as a prayer, his priestly prayer, whose background exegetes have traced to the ritual of the Jewish feast of atonement. The significance of that feast and its rituals – the world’s purification and reconciliation with God – is fulfilled in Jesus’ prayer, a prayer which anticipates his Passion and transforms it into a prayer. The priestly prayer thus makes uniquely evident the perpetual mystery of Holy Thursday: the new priesthood of Jesus Christ and its prolongation in the consecration of the Apostles, in the incorporation of the disciples into the Lord’s priesthood. From this inexhaustibly profound text, I would like to select three sayings of Jesus which can lead us more fully into the mystery of Holy Thursday.

First, there are the words: "This is eternal life, that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent" (Jn 17:3). Everyone wants to have life. We long for a life which is authentic, complete, worthwhile, full of joy. This yearning for life coexists with a resistance to death, which nonetheless remains unescapable. When Jesus speaks about eternal life, he is referring to real and true life, a life worthy of being lived. He is not simply speaking about life after death. He is talking about authentic life, a life fully alive and thus not subject to death, yet one which can already, and indeed must, begin in this world. Only if we learn even now how to live authentically, if we learn how to live the life which death cannot take away, does the promise of eternity become meaningful. But how does this happen? What is this true and eternal life which death cannot touch? We have heard Jesus’ answer: this is eternal life, that they may know you – God – and the one whom you have sent, Jesus Christ. Much to our surprise, we are told that life is knowledge. This means first of all that life is relationship. No one has life from himself and only for himself. We have it from others and in a relationship with others. If it is a relationship in truth and love, a giving and receiving, it gives fullness to life and makes it beautiful. But for that very reason, the destruction of that relationship by death can be especially painful, it can put life itself in question. Only a relationship with the One who is himself Life can preserve my life beyond the floodwaters of death, can bring me through them alive. Already in Greek philosophy we encounter the idea that man can find eternal life if he clings to what is indestructible – to truth, which is eternal. He needs, as it were, to be full of truth in order to bear within himself the stuff of eternity. But only if truth is a Person, can it lead me through the night of death. We cling to God – to Jesus Christ the Risen One. And thus we are led by the One who is himself Life. In this relationship we too live by passing through death, since we are not forsaken by the One who is himself Life.

But let us return to Jesus’s words – this is eternal life: that they know you and the One whom you have sent. Knowledge of God becomes eternal life. Clearly "knowledge" here means something more than mere factual knowledge, as, for example, when we know that a famous person has died or a discovery was made. Knowing, in the language of sacred Scripture, is an interior becoming one with the other. Knowing God, knowing Christ, always means loving him, becoming, in a sense, one with him by virtue of that knowledge and love. Our life becomes authentic and true life, and thus eternal life, when we know the One who is the source of all being and all life. And so Jesus’ words become a summons: let us become friends of Jesus, let us try to know him all the more! Let us live in dialogue with him! Let us learn from him how to live aright, let us be his witnesses! Then we become people who love and then we act aright. Then we are truly alive.

Twice in the course of the priestly prayer Jesus speaks of revealing God’s name. "I have made your name known to those whom you gave me from the world" (v. 6). "I have made your name known to them, and I will make it known, so that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them" (v. 26). The Lord is alluding here to the scene of the burning bush, when God, at Moses’ request, had revealed his name. Jesus thus means to say that he is bringing to fulfilment what began with the burning bush; that in him God, who had made himself known to Moses, now reveals himself fully. And that in doing so he brings about reconciliation; that the love with which God loves his Son in the mystery of the Trinity now draws men and women into this divine circle of love. But what, more precisely, does it mean to say that the revelation made from the burning bush is finally brought to completion, fully attains its purpose? The essence of what took place on Mount Horeb was not the mysterious word, the "name" which God had revealed to Moses, as a kind of mark of identification. To give one’s name means to enter into relationship with another. The revelation of the divine name, then, means that God, infinite and self-subsistent, enters into the network of human relationships; that he comes out of himself, so to speak, and becomes one of us, present among us and for us. Consequently, Israel saw in the name of God not merely a word steeped in mystery, but an affirmation that God is with us. According to sacred Scripture, the Temple is the dwelling-place of God’s name. God is not confined within any earthly space; he remains infinitely above and beyond the world. Yet in the Temple he is present for us as the One who can be called – as the One who wills to be with us. This desire of God to be with his people comes to completion in the incarnation of the Son. Here what began at the burning bush is truly brought to completion: God, as a Man, is able to be called by us and he is close to us. He is one of us, yet he remains the eternal and infinite God. His love comes forth, so to speak, from himself and enters into our midst. The mystery of the Eucharist, the presence of the Lord under the appearances of bread and wine, is the highest and most sublime way in which this new mode of God’s being-with-us takes shape. "Truly you are a God who is hidden, O God of Israel", the prophet Isaiah had prayed (45:15). This never ceases to be true. But we can also say: Truly you are a God who is close, you are a God-with-us. You have revealed your mystery to us, you have shown your face to us. You have revealed yourself and given yourself into our hands… At this hour joy and gratitude must fill us, because God has shown himself, because he, infinite and beyond the grasp of our reason, is the God who is close to us, who loves us, and whom we can know and love.

The best-known petition of the priestly prayer is the petition for the unity of the disciples, now and yet to come: "I do not ask only on behalf of these – the community of the disciples gathered in the Upper Room – but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one. As you, Father, are in me, and I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me" (v. 20ff.; cf. vv. 11 and 13). What exactly is the Lord asking for? First, he prays for his disciples, present and future. He peers into the distance of future history. He sees the dangers there and he commends this community to the heart of the Father. He prays to the Father for the Church and for her unity. It has been said that in the Gospel of John the Church is not present. Yet here she appears in her essential features: as the community of disciples who through the apostolic preaching believe in Jesus Christ and thus become one. Jesus prays for the Church to be one and apostolic. This prayer, then, is properly speaking an act which founds the Church.

The Lord prays to the Father for the Church. She is born of the prayer of Jesus and through the preaching of the Apostles, who make known God’s name and introduce men and women into the fellowship of love with God. Jesus thus prays that the preaching of the disciples will continue for all time, that it will gather together men and women who know God and the one he has sent, his Son Jesus Christ. He prays that men and women may be led to faith and, through faith, to love. He asks the Father that these believers "be in us" (v. 21); that they will live, in other words, in interior communion with God and Jesus Christ, and that this inward being in communion with God may give rise to visible unity. Twice the Lord says that this unity should make the world believe in the mission of Jesus. It must thus be a unity which can be seen – a unity which so transcends ordinary human possibilities as to become a sign before the world and to authenticate the mission of Jesus Christ.

Jesus’ prayer gives us the assurance that the preaching of the Apostles will never fail throughout history; that it will always awaken faith and gather men and women into unity – into a unity which becomes a testimony to the mission of Jesus Christ. But this prayer also challenges us to a constant examination of conscience. At this hour the Lord is asking us: are you living, through faith, in fellowship with me and thus in fellowship with God? Or are you rather living for yourself, and thus apart from faith? And are you not thus guilty of the inconsistency which obscures my mission in the world and prevents men and women from encountering God’s love? It was part of the historical Passion of Jesus, and remains part of his ongoing Passion throughout history, that he saw, and even now continues to see, all that threatens and destroys unity. As we meditate on the Passion of the Lord, let us also feel Jesus’ pain at the way that we contradict his prayer, that we resist his love, that we oppose the unity which should bear witness before the world to his mission.

At this hour, when the Lord in the most holy Eucharist gives himself, his body and his blood, into our hands and into our hearts, let us be moved by his prayer. Let us enter into his prayer and thus beseech him: Lord, grant us faith in you, who are one with the Father in the Holy Spirit. Grant that we may live in your love and thus become one, as you are one with the Father, so that the world may believe. Amen.

© Copyright 2010 -- Libreria Editrice Vaticana

reprinted from Zenit

Water, Bread, Wine, Oil. The Four Elements of the New World

2010-04-01T19:12:00.000-07:00

The pope explains Christian cosmology using the symbols of the sacraments. The oil of peace, but also of combat. Against the old and new empires that lift up injustice as law

by Benedict XVI

Homily for the Chrism Mass of Holy Thursday, celebrated in Saint Peter's Basilica on the morning of April 1, 2010, with the blessing of the oils for baptism, confirmation, the anointing of the sick, and holy orders.

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Dear brothers and sisters, at the centre of the Church’s worship is the notion of “sacrament”. This means that it is not primarily we who act, but God comes first to meet us through his action, he looks upon us and he leads us to himself. Another striking feature is this: God touches us through material things, through gifts of creation that he takes up into his service, making them instruments of the encounter between us and himself.

There are four elements in creation on which the world of sacraments is built: water, bread, wine and olive oil. Water, as the basic element and fundamental condition of all life, is the essential sign of the act in which, through baptism, we become Christians and are born to new life. While water is the vital element everywhere, and thus represents the shared access of all people to rebirth as Christians, the other three elements belong to the culture of the Mediterranean region. In other words, they point towards the concrete historical environment in which Christianity emerged. God acted in a clearly defined place on the earth, he truly made history with men.

On the one hand, these three elements are gifts of creation, and on the other, they also indicate the locality of the history of God with us. They are a synthesis between creation and history: gifts of God that always connect us to those parts of the world where God chose to act with us in historical time, where he chose to become one of us.

Within these three elements there is a further gradation. Bread has to do with everyday life. It is the fundamental gift of life day by day. Wine has to do with feasting, with the fine things of creation, in which, at the same time, the joy of the redeemed finds particular expression. Olive oil has a wide range of meaning. It is nourishment, it is medicine, it gives beauty, it prepares us for battle and it gives strength. Kings and priests are anointed with oil, which is thus a sign of dignity and responsibility, and likewise of the strength that comes from God. Even the name that we bear as “Christians” contains the mystery of the oil. The word “Christians”, in fact, by which Christ’s disciples were known in the earliest days of Gentile Christianity, is derived from the word “Christ” (Acts 11:20-21) – the Greek translation of the word “Messiah”, which means “anointed one”. To be a Christian is to come from Christ, to belong to Christ, to the anointed one of God, to whom God granted kingship and priesthood. It means belonging to him whom God himself anointed – not with material oil, but with the One whom the oil represents: with his Holy Spirit. Olive oil is thus in a very particular way a symbol of the total compenetration of the man Jesus by the Holy Spirit.

In the Chrism Mass on Holy Thursday, the holy oils are at the centre of the liturgical action. They are consecrated in the bishop’s cathedral for the whole year. They thus serve also as an expression of the Church’s unity, guaranteed by the episcopate, and they point to Christ, the true “shepherd and guardian” of our souls, as Saint Peter calls him (1 Pet 2:25). At the same time, they hold together the entire liturgical year, anchored in the mystery of Holy Thursday. Finally, they point to the Garden of Olives, the scene of Jesus’ inner acceptance of his Passion. Yet the Garden of Olives is also the place from which he ascended to the Father, and is therefore the place of redemption: God did not leave Jesus in death. Jesus lives for ever with the Father, and is therefore omnipresent, with us always.

This double mystery of the Mount of Olives is also always “at work” within the Church’s sacramental oil. In four sacraments, oil is the sign of God’s goodness reaching out to touch us: in baptism, in confirmation as the sacrament of the Holy Spirit, in the different grades of the sacrament of holy orders and finally in the anointing of the sick, in which oil is offered to us, so to speak, as God’s medicine – as the medicine which now assures us of his goodness, offering us strength and consolation, yet at the same time points beyond the moment of the illness towards the definitive healing, the resurrection (cf. Jas 5:14). Thus oil, in its different forms, accompanies us throughout our lives: beginning with the catechumenate and baptism, and continuing right up to the moment when we prepare to meet God, our Judge and Saviour. Moreover, the Chrism Mass, in which the sacramental sign of oil is presented to us as part of the language of God’s creation, speaks in particular to us who are priests: it speaks of Christ, whom God anointed King and Priest – of him who makes us sharers in his priesthood, in his “anointing”, through our own priestly ordination.

I should like, then, to attempt a brief interpretation of the mystery of this holy sign in its essential reference to the priestly vocation. In popular etymologies a connection was made, even in ancient times, between the Greek word “elaion” – oil – and the word “eleos” – mercy. In fact, in the various sacraments, consecrated oil is always a sign of God’s mercy. So the meaning of priestly anointing always includes the mission to bring God’s mercy to those we serve. In the lamp of our lives, the oil of mercy should never run dry. Let us always obtain it from the Lord in good time – in our encounter with his word, in our reception of the sacraments, in the time we spend with him in prayer.

As a consequence of the story of the dove bearing an olive branch to signal the end of the flood – and thus God’s new peace with the world of men – not only the dove but also the olive branch and oil itself have become symbols of peace. The Christians of antiquity loved to decorate the tombs of their dead with the crown of victory and the olive branch, symbol of peace. They knew that Christ conquered death and that their dead were resting in the peace of Christ. They knew that they themselves were awaited by Christ, that he had promised them the peace which the world cannot give. They remembered that the first words of the Risen Lord to his disciples were: “Peace be with you!” (Jn 20:19). He himself, so to speak, bears the olive branch, he introduces his peace into the world. He announces God’s saving goodness. He is our peace. Christians should therefore be people of peace, people who recognize and live the mystery of the Cross as a mystery of reconciliation. Christ does not conquer through the sword, but through the Cross. He wins by conquering hatred. He wins through the force of his greater love. The Cross of Christ expresses his “no” to violence. And in this way, it is God’s victory sign, which announces Jesus’ new way. The one who suffered was stronger than the ones who exercised power. In his self-giving on the Cross, Christ conquered violence. As priests we are called, in fellowship with Jesus Christ, to be men of peace, we are called to oppose violence and to trust in the greater power of love.

A further aspect of the symbolism of oil is that it strengthens for battle. This does not contradict the theme of peace, but forms part of it. The battle of Christians consisted – and still consists – not in the use of violence, but in the fact that they were – and are – ready to suffer for the good, for God. It consists in the fact that Christians, as good citizens, keep the law and do what is just and good. It consists in the fact that they do not do whatever within the legal system in force is not just but unjust. The battle of the martyrs consists in their concrete “no” to injustice: by taking no part in idolatry, in Emperor worship, they refused to bow down before falsehood, before the adoration of human persons and their power. With their “no” to falsehood and all its consequences, they upheld the power of right and truth. Thus they served true peace. Today too it is important for Christians to follow what is right, which is the foundation of peace.

Today too it is important for Christians not to accept a wrong that is enshrined in law – for example the killing of innocent unborn children. In this way we serve peace, in this way we find ourselves following in the footsteps of Jesus Christ, of whom Saint Peter says: “When he was reviled he did not revile in return; when he suffered, he did not threaten; but he trusted to him who judges justly. He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness” (1 Pet 2:23f.).

The Fathers of the Church were fascinated by a phrase from Psalm 45 (44) – traditionally held to be Solomon’s wedding psalm – which was reinterpreted by Christians as the psalm for the marriage of the new Solomon, Jesus Christ, to his Church. To the King, Christ, it is said: “Your love is for justice; your hatred for evil. Therefore God, your God, has anointed you with the oil of gladness above other kings” (v. 8). What is this oil of gladness with which the true king, Christ, was anointed? The Fathers had no doubt in this regard: the oil of gladness is the Holy Spirit himself, who was poured out upon Jesus Christ. The Holy Spirit is the gladness that comes from God. From Jesus this gladness sweeps over us in his Gospel, in the joyful message that God knows us, that he is good and that his goodness is the power above all powers; that we are wanted and loved by him. Gladness is the fruit of love. The oil of gladness, which was poured out over Christ and comes to us from him, is the Holy Spirit, the gift of Love who makes us glad to be alive. Since we know Christ, and since in him we know the true God, we know that it is good to be a human being. It is good to be alive, because we are loved, because truth itself is good.

In the early Church, the consecrated oil was considered a special sign of the presence of the Holy Spirit, who communicates himself to us as a gift from Christ. He is the oil of gladness. This gladness is different from entertainment and from the outward happiness that modern society seeks for itself. Entertainment, in its proper place, is certainly good and enjoyable. It is good to be able to laugh. But entertainment is not everything. It is only a small part of our lives, and when it tries to be the whole, it becomes a mask behind which despair lurks, or at least doubt over whether life is really good, or whether non-existence might perhaps be better than existence. The gladness that comes to us from Christ is different. It does indeed make us happy, but it can also perfectly well coexist with suffering. It gives us the capacity to suffer and, in suffering, to remain nevertheless profoundly glad. It gives us the capacity to share the suffering of others and thus by placing ourselves at one another’s disposal, to express tangibly the light and the goodness of God.

I am always struck by the passage in the Acts of the Apostles which recounts that after the Apostles had been whipped by order of the Sanhedrin, they “rejoiced that they were counted worthy to suffer dishonour for the name of Jesus” (Acts 5:41). Anyone who loves is ready to suffer for the beloved and for the sake of his love, and in this way he experiences a deeper joy. The joy of the martyrs was stronger than the torments inflicted on them. This joy was ultimately victorious and opened the gates of history for Christ. As priests, we are – in Saint Paul’s words – “co-workers with you for your joy” (2 Cor 1:24). In the fruit of the olive-tree, in the consecrated oil, we are touched by the goodness of the Creator, the love of the Redeemer. Let us pray that his gladness may pervade us ever more deeply and that we may be capable of bringing it anew to a world in such urgent need of the joy that has its source in truth. Amen.

reprinted from Chiesa

Ever more profoundly inserted in the Mystery of Christ

2010-03-31T19:22:00.000-07:00

Easter Procession, Prendergast

VATICAN CITY, MARCH 31, 2010.- Here is a translation of the address Benedict XVI gave today at the general audience in St. Peter's Square.

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Dear brothers and sisters,

We are living the holy days that invite us to meditate on the central events of our redemption, the essential nucleus of our faith. Tomorrow the Easter Triduum begins, summit of the whole liturgical year, in which we are called to silence and prayer to contemplate the mystery of the passion, death and resurrection of the Lord.

In their homilies, the Fathers often make reference to these days that, as St. Athanasius observes in one of his Easter letters, introduce us "into that time that makes us know a new beginning, the day of Holy Easter, in which the Lord immolated himself" (Letter 5,1-2: PG 26, 1379).

I exhort you, therefore, to live these days intensely so that they will decisively orient each one's life to a generous and convinced adherence to Christ, dead and resurrected for us.

The Holy Chrism Mass, morning prelude of Holy Thursday, will find gathered together tomorrow morning the presbyters with their respective bishops. During a significant Eucharistic celebration, which customarily takes place in the diocesan cathedrals, the oil of the sick, of the catechumens and the chrism will be blessed. Moreover, the bishop and the presbyters will renew their priestly promises pronounced on the day of ordination. This gesture takes on this year a special importance, because it is situated in the ambit of the Year for Priests, which I proclaimed to commemorate the 150th anniversary of the death of the holy Curé d'Ars. I would like to repeat to all priests the exhortation that I formulated as a conclusion of the letter of convocation: "In the footsteps of the Curé d'Ars, let yourselves be enthralled by him. In this way you too will be, for the world in our time, heralds of hope, reconciliation and peace!!"

Tomorrow afternoon we will celebrate the moment of the institution of the Eucharist. Writing to the Corinthians, the Apostle Paul confirmed the first Christians in the truth of the Eucharistic mystery, communicating to them what he had learned: "That the Lord Jesus, on the night he was handed over, took bread, and, after he had given thanks, broke it and said, 'This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.' In the same way also the cup, after supper, saying, 'This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me'" (1 Corinthians 11:23-25).

These words manifest with clarity Christ's intention: Under the species of bread and wine, he makes himself present in a real way with his body given and with his blood shed as sacrifice of the New Covenant. At the same time, he constitutes the Apostles and their successors as ministers in this sacrament, which he gives to his Church as supreme proof of his love.

With a thought-provoking rite we will remember as well Jesus' gesture washing the feet of the Apostles (cf. John 13:1-25). This act becomes, for the evangelist, the representation of Jesus' whole life and reveals his love to the end, an infinite love, capable of making man fit for communion with God and of making him free. At the end of the liturgy of Holy Thursday, the Church reposes the Most Holy Sacrament in a place especially prepared, which represents the loneliness of Gethsemane and Jesus' mortal anguish. Before the Eucharist, the faithful contemplate Jesus in the hour of his loneliness and pray for an end to all the loneliness of the world. This liturgical journey is, on the other hand, an invitation to seek an intimate encounter with the Lord in prayer, to recognize Jesus among those who are alone, to watch with him and to be able to proclaim him light of one's life.

On Good Friday we will remember the Passion and Death of the Lord. Jesus wished to offer his life in sacrifice for the remission of humanity's sins, choosing for this end the most cruel and humiliating death: crucifixion. There is an indivisible connection between the Last Supper and Jesus' death. In the first, Jesus gives his body and blood, namely, his earthly existence, likewise, anticipating his death and transforming it into an act of love. Thus death that, by nature is the end, the destruction of every relationship, is made by him an act of communication of himself, the instrument of salvation and proclamation of the victory of love. In this way, Jesus becomes the key to understand the Last Supper, which is the anticipation of the violent death in voluntary sacrifice, an act of love that redeems and saves the world.

Holy Saturday is characterized by a great silence. The Churches are naked and no private liturgies are planned. In this time of expectation and hope, believers are invited to prayer, reflection and conversion also through the sacrament of reconciliation, to be able to participate, profoundly renewed, in the celebration of Easter.

On the night of Holy Saturday, during the solemn Easter Vigil, "mother of all vigils," this silence will be broken with the singing of the Alleluia, which announces the resurrection of Christ and proclaims the victory of light over darkness, of life over death. The Church will rejoice in the encounter with her Lord, entering the day of Easter that the Lord inaugurates resurrecting from the dead.

Dear brothers and sisters, let us dispose ourselves to live intensely this Holy Triduum now imminent, to be ever more profoundly inserted in the Mystery of Christ, dead and resurrected for us. May the Most Holy Virgin accompany us in this spiritual itinerary. May she, who followed Jesus in his passion and was present beneath the cross, introduce us into the Paschal Mystery, so that we will be able to experience the joy and peace of the Risen One.

With these sentiments I address to you already now my most cordial wishes for a holy Easter, extending them to your communities and to all your loved ones.

reprinted from Zenit

Divine justice creates something new

2010-03-23T08:03:00.000-07:00

VATICAN CITY, MARCH 21, 2010.- Here is a translation of the public address Benedict XVI gave today before praying the midday Angelus with the pilgrims gathered in St. Peter's Square.

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Dear Brothers and Sisters!

We have arrived at the 5th Sunday of Lent in which this year the liturgy proposes to us the Gospel episode of Jesus saving the adulterous woman condemned to death (John 8:1-11). While he is teaching in the Temple area the scribes and the Pharisees bring to Jesus a woman caught in adultery, for whom the Mosaic Law prescribes stoning.

These men ask Jesus to judge the woman with the purpose of "putting him to the test" and trip him up. The scene is full of drama: The woman's life and Jesus' own life depend on his words. The hypocritical accusers, in fact, pretend to entrust him with the judgment while in reality they want to accuse and judge him. But Jesus is "full of grace and truth" (John 1:14): He knows what is in every man's heart, he wants to condemn sin but save the sinner, and unmask hypocrisy.

There is a detail that is highlighted by the evangelist St. John: While the accusers question him insistently, Jesus bends down and starts writing with his finger on the ground. St. Augustine observes that this gesture displays Jesus as the divine lawgiver: Indeed, God wrote the law with his finger on the tables of stone (cf. Commentary on the Gospel of John 33:5). Thus, Jesus is the lawgiver, justice incarnate. And what is his judgment? "Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to cast a stone at her."

These words are full of the disarming power of the truth, which makes the wall of hypocrisy crumble and opens consciences to a greater justice, that of love, in which consists the perfect fulfillment of every precept (cf. Romans 13:8-10). It is justice that also saved Saul of Tarsus, transforming him into St. Paul (cf. Philippians 3:8-14). When the accusers "departed, one by one, beginning with the elders," Jesus, absolving the woman of her sin, introduces her into a new life, oriented toward the good: "Neither do I condemn you; go and from now on do not sin any more." It is the same grace that will make the Apostle say: "I only know this: forgetting what is behind and looking to that which is ahead, I race toward the goal, to the prize that God is calling me to receive above in Christ Jesus" (Philippians 3:14).

God only wants goodness and life for us; he provides for the salvation of our soul through his ministers, freeing us from evil by the Sacrament of Reconciliation, so that no one is lost but all have a way to be converted. In this Year for Priests, I would like to exhort pastors to imitate the holy Curé d'Ars in the ministry of sacramental Penance, so that the faithful rediscover its meaning and beauty, and are again healed by the merciful love of God, who even "forces himself willingly to forget sin," so that he can grant us his forgiveness!" ("Letter Proclaiming a Year for Priests").

Dear friends, let us learn from the Lord Jesus not to judge and not to condemn our neighbor. Let us learn to be intransigent with sin -- beginning with our own! -- and indulgent with people. May we be helped in this by the Holy Mother of God, who, free of every fault, is the mediatrix of grace for every contrite sinner.

reprinted from Zenit

"the greatest work of art of the whole of creation"

2010-03-23T06:29:00.000-07:00

VATICAN CITY, MARCH 22, 2010.- Here is a translation of the address Benedict XVI gave Friday at the end of a concert the Prefecture of the Pontifical Household organized in the Vatican for the feast day of Benedict XVI's namesake, St. Joseph, featuring the music of Joseph Haydn.

The musical event featured a work of Spanish composer José Peris Lacasa. He presented his version of Joseph Haydn's "The Last Seven Words of Christ on the Cross," which Peris Lacasa calls "In the Manner of Haydn." The Henschel String Quartet and mezzosoprano Susanne Kelling performed the work.

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Dear Friends,

At the end of such intense and spiritually profound listening, it would be better to keep silent and prolong the meditation. However, I am very happy to greet and thank each one of you for your presence on the day of the celebration of my name day, in a particular way all those who have given me this great gift. [...]

The choice of this work has really been a happy one. In fact, if on one hand, its austere beauty is worthy of the solemnity of St. Joseph -- whose name the famous composer bore -- on the other its content is very appropriate for the Lenten season, what is more, it should predispose us to live the central Mystery of the Christian faith.

"The Seven Last Words of Christ on the Cross" is, in fact, among the most sublime examples, in the musical field, of how art and faith can be united. The musician's invention is wholly inspired and almost "directed" by the evangelical texts, which culminate in the words pronounced by the crucified Jesus, before exhaling his last breath. However, more than the text, the composer was also connected by precise conditions to those who commissioned the work, dictated by the particular type of celebration in which the music would be performed. And it is precisely from these very close conditionings that the creative genius was able to manifest itself in all its excellence: Having to imagine seven sonatas of a tragic and meditative character, Haydn is centered on the intensity, as he himself wrote in a letter of the time, where he says: "Each sonata, or each text, is expressed with the only means of instrumental music, in such a way that it will necessarily make the most profound impression on the soul of the listener, including the least sharp" (Letter to W. Forster, April 8, 1787).

There is in this something similar to the work of the sculptor, who must constantly measure himself against the material on which he works -- let us think of the marble of Michelangelo's Pieta -- and in spite of everything, he is able to make that material speak, to have a singular and unrepeatable synthesis of thought and emotion arise, an absolutely original artistic expression that, however, at the same time, is totally at the service of that beautiful content of the faith, it is as though dominated by the event it represents -- in our case, by the Seven Words and by their context.

Hidden here is a universal law of artistic expression: To be able to communicate a beauty that is also a good and a truth, through a sensible means -- a painting, a music, a sculpture, a written text, a dance, etc. Well looked at, it is the same law that God followed to communicate himself and his love to us: He was incarnated in our human flesh and did the greatest work of art of the whole of creation: "the only mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus" -- as St. Paul writes (1 Timothy 2:5).

The "harder" the material the closer the conditionings of the expression, and highlighted in the main is the genius of the artist. Thus on the "hard" cross, God pronounced in Christ the most beautiful and true Word of love, which is Jesus in his full and definitive self-giving: He is the last Word of God, not in a chronological but in a qualitative sense. It is the universal, absolute Word, but it was pronounced in that concrete man, in that time and in that place, in that "hour" -- says John's Gospel. This connection with history, with flesh is the sign of fidelity par excellence, of a love so free that it is not afraid to be bound forever, to express the infinite in the finite, the whole in the fragment. This law, which is the law of love, is also the law of art in its highest expressions.

Dear friends, perhaps I have gone too far with this reflection, but the fault -- or rather the merit! -- is Franz Joseph Haydn's. Let us thank the Lord for these great artistic geniuses, who have been able and have wanted to measure themselves with his Word -- Jesus Christ -- and with his words -- the sacred Scriptures. I renew my gratitude to all those who have planned and prepared this tribute: may the Lord recompense each one of you with largesse.

reprinted from Zenit

"No longer putting oneself at the center"

2010-03-16T08:20:00.000-07:00

VATICAN CITY, MARCH 15, 2010.- Here is a translation of the message Benedict XVI wrote for the 25th World Youth Day, which will be celebrated Palm Sunday, March 28, at the diocesan level.

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Dear Friends,

This year we observe the 25th anniversary of the institution of World Youth Day, desired by the Venerable John Paul II as an annual meeting of believing young people of the whole world. It was a prophetic initiative that has borne abundant fruits, enabling new generations of Christians to come together, to listen to the Word of God, to discover the beauty of the Church and to live experiences of faith that have led many to give themselves totally to Christ.

The present 25th Youth Day represents a stage toward the next World Youth meeting, which will take place in August 2011 in Madrid, where I hope a great number of you will live this event of grace.

To prepare ourselves for such a celebration, I would like to propose to you some reflections on this year's theme: "Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?" (Mark 10:17), treating the evangelical episode of Jesus' meeting with the rich young man, a topic already addressed in 1985 by Pope John Paul II in a most beautiful Letter, addressed for the first time to young people.

1. Jesus Meets a Young Man

And as he [Jesus] was setting out on his journey," recounts the Gospel of St. Mark, "a man ran up and knelt before him, and asked him, "Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?" And Jesus said to him, "Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone. You know the commandments: 'Do not kill, Do not commit adultery, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Do not defraud, Honor your father and mother."

And he said to him, "Teacher, all these I have observed from my youth." And Jesus looking upon him loved him, and said to him, "You lack one thing; go, sell what you have, and give it to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me." At that saying his countenance fell, and he went away sorrowful; for he had great possessions" (Mark 10:17-22).

This account expresses effectively Jesus' great attention to youth, to you, to your expectations, your hopes, and shows how great his desire is to meet with you personally and open a dialogue with each one of you. In fact, Christ interrupts his journey to respond to his interlocutor's question, manifesting full availability to that young man, who was moved by an ardent desire to speak with the "good Teacher," to learn from him how to follow the way of life. With this evangelical passage, my Predecessor wished to exhort each one of you to "develop your own conversation with Christ -- a conversation that is of fundamental and essential importance for a young man (Letter to Young People, No. 2).

2. Jesus Looking Upon Him Loved Him

In the evangelical account, St. Mark stresses how "Jesus looking upon him loved him" (cf. Mark 10-21). In the Lord's look is the heart of the very special encounter and of all the Christian experience. In fact, Christianity is not primarily a morality, but experience of Jesus Christ, who loves us personally, young and old, poor and rich; he loves us even when we turn our back to him.

Commenting on the scene, Pope John Paul II added, turning to young people: "I hope you will experience such a look! I hope you will experience the truth that he, the Christ, keeps for you with love!" (Letter to Young People, No. 7). A love, manifested on the cross in such a full and total way, that it made St. Paul write with amazement: "who loved me and gave himself for me" (Galatians 2:20). "The awareness that the Father has always loved us in his Son, that Christ loves every one and always," writes, again, Pope John Paul II, "becomes a firm point of support for the whole of our human existence" (Letter to Young People , No. 7), and enables us to overcome all trials: the discovery of our sins, suffering, discouragement.

In this love is found the source of the whole of Christian life and the fundamental reason of evangelization: If we have truly encountered Jesus, we cannot do other than witness him to those who have not yet crossed his look!

3. The Discovery of the Plan of Life

In the young man of the Gospel, we can perceive a very similar condition to that of each one of you. You are also rich in qualities, energies, dreams, hopes: Resources that you possess in abundance! Your very age constitutes a great richness, not only for you, but also for others, for the Church and for the world.

The rich young man asks Jesus: "What must I do?" The stage of life in which you are immersed is a time of discovery: of the gifts that God has lavished on you and of your responsibilities. It is, moreover, a time of fundamental choices to build your plan of life. It is the moment, therefore, to ask yourselves about the authentic meaning of existence and to ask yourselves: "Am I satisfied with my life? Is there something lacking?"

As the young man of the Gospel, perhaps you also live situations of instability, of disturbance or of suffering, which lead you to aspire to a life that is not mediocre, and to ask yourselves: In what does a successful life consist? What must I do? What might be my plan of life? "What must I do, for my life to have full value and full meaning?" (Ibid., No. 3).

Do not be afraid to address these questions! Far from overwhelming you, they express great aspirations, which are present in your heart. Hence, they are to be listened to. They await answers that are not superficial, but able to satisfy your authentic expectations of life and happiness.

To discover the plan of life that could render you fully happy, listen to God, who has a plan of love for each one of you. With trust, ask him: "Lord, what is your plan of Creator and Father for my life? What is your will? I want to fulfill it." Be sure that he will respond. Do not be afraid of his answer! "God is greater than our heart and knows everything!" (1 John 3:20).

4. Come and follow me!

Jesus invited the rich young man to go far beyond the satisfaction of his aspirations and of his plans, he says to him: "Come and follow me!" The Christian vocation springs from a proposal of love of the Lord and can be realized only thanks to a response of love: "Jesus invites his disciples to the total gift of their life, without human calculation or benefit, with a trust without reservations in God. The saints accepted this exacting invitation, and with humble docility followed the crucified and risen Christ. Their perfection, in the logic of faith at times humanly incomprehensible, consists in no longer putting oneself at the center, but in choosing to go against the current living according to the Gospel" (Benedict XVI, Homily at Canonization Mass, L'Osservatore Romano, 12-13, October 2009, p. 6).

On the example of so many disciples of Christ, you also, dear friends, accept with joy the invitation to follow, to live intensely and fruitfully in this world. With Baptism, in fact, he calls each one to follow him with concrete actions, to love him above all things and to serve him in brothers. The rich young man, unfortunately, did not accept Jesus' invitation and left saddened. He did not find the courage to detach himself from his material goods to find the greatest good proposed by Jesus.

The sadness of the rich young man of the Gospel is that which is born in the heart of each one when one does not have the courage to follow Christ, to make the right choice. However, it is never too late to respond to him!

Jesus never tires of turning his look of love and of calling to be his disciples, but He proposes to some a more radical choice. In this Year for Priests, I would like to exhort boys and girls to be attentive if the Lord invites to a great gift, in the way of the Ministerial Priesthood, and to make oneself available to accept with generosity and enthusiasm this sign of special predilection, undertaking with a priest or spiritual director the necessary path of discernment. Do not be afraid, then, dear boys and girls, if the Lord calls you to the religious, monastic, missionary life or one of special consecration: He is able to give profound joy to one who responds with courage!

Moreover, I invite all those who feel the vocation to marriage to accept it with faith, committing themselves to lay the solid base to live a great love, faithful and open to the gift of life, which is richness and grace for society and for the Church.

5. Oriented to Eternal Life

"What must I do to inherit eternal life?" This question of the young man of the Gospel seems far from the concerns of many contemporary young people, because, as my predecessor observed, "are we not the generation, whose horizon of existence the world and temporal progress fill completely? (Letter to Young People, No. 5). But the question on "eternal life" flowers in particularly painful moments of existence, when we suffer the loss of a close person or when we live the experience of failure.

But what is the "eternal life" to which the young man refers? It is illustrated by Jesus when, turning to his disciples, he affirms: "I will see you again and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you" (John 16:22). They are words that indicate an exalted proposal of endless happiness, of joy of being filled with divine love forever.

To ask oneself about the definitive future that awaits each one of us gives full meaning to existence, because it orients the plan of life toward horizons that are not limited and passing, but ample and profound, which lead to loving the world, so loved by God himself, to dedicate oneself to its development, but always with the liberty and joy born from faith and hope. They are horizons that help not to absolutize earthly realities, seeing that God prepares a greater prospect for us, and to repeat with St. Augustine: "We desire together the heavenly homeland, we sigh for the heavenly homeland, we feel ourselves pilgrims down here" (Commentary on St. John's Gospel, Homily 35, 9). Keeping his gaze fixed on eternal life, Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati, who died in 1925 at the age of 24, said: "I want to live and not just get along!" and on the photo of an ascent sent to a friend, he wrote: "Toward on high," alluding to Christian perfection, but also to eternal life.

Dear young people, I exhort you not to forget this prospect of your plan of life: We are called to eternity. God has created us to be with Him, forever. This will help you to give full meaning to your choices and to give quality to your existence.

6. The Commandments, the Way of Authentic Love

Jesus reminds the rich young man of the Ten Commandments, as necessary conditions to "inherit eternal life." They are essential points of reference to live in love, to clearly distinguish good from evil and build a solid and lasting plan of life. Jesus also asks you if you know the commandments, if you are concerned to form your conscience according to the divine law and if you will put it into practice.

They certainly are questions that go against the current of the present-day mentality, which proposes a liberty disconnected from values, rules, objective norms and invites to reject every limitation to desires of the moment. But this type of proposal instead of leading to true liberty, leads man to become a slave of himself, of his immediate desires, of idols such as power, money, unbridled pleasure and the seductions of the world, rendering him incapable of following his original vocation to love.

God gives us the commandments because he wants to educate us to true liberty, because he wants to build with us a Kingdom of love, justice and peace. To listen to them and to put them into practice does not mean to be alienated, but to find the path of authentic liberty and love, because the commandments do not limit happiness, but indicate how to find it. At the beginning of his dialogue with the rich young man, Jesus reminds him that the law given by God is good because "God is good."

7. We Have Need of You

One who lives the condition of youth finds himself facing many problems derived from unemployment, the lack of sure ideal references and of concrete prospects for the future. At times one can have the impression of being impotent in face of the present crises and drifts. Despite the difficulties, do not let yourselves be discouraged and do not give up your dreams! Instead, cultivate in your heart great desires of fraternity, justice and peace. The future is in your hands, because the gifts and riches that the Lord has enclosed in the heart of each one of you, molded by the encounter with Christ, can bring authentic hope to the world! It is faith in his love that, rendering you strong and generous, will give you the courage to address with serenity the journey of life and to assume family and professional responsibilities. Be committed to build your future through serious courses of personal formation and study, to serve the common good in a competent and generous way.

In my encyclical letter "Caritas in Veritate" on integral human development, I listed some of the great present challenges, which are urgent and essential for the life of this world: The use of the resources of the earth and respect for the ecology, the just division of goods and the control of financial mechanisms, solidarity with poor countries in the ambit of the human family, the struggle against hunger in the world, the promotion of the dignity of human labor, service to the culture of life, the building of peace between peoples, the interreligious dialogue, the good use of the social means of communication.

They are challenges to which you are called to respond to build a more just and fraternal world. They are challenges that call for an exacting and passionate plan of life, into which you put all your richness according the plan that God has for each one of you. It is not a question of carrying out heroic or extraordinary gestures, but of acting by putting to good use one's talents and possibilities, committed to constantly progress in faith and love.

In this Year for Priests, I invite you to know the life of the saints, in particular that of holy priests. You will see that God guided them and that they found their way day after day, precisely in faith, in hope and in love. Christ calls each one of you to be committed with him and to assume your responsibilities to build a civilization of love. If you follow his Word, your path will also be illumined and will lead you to lofty goals, which give joy and full meaning to life.

May the Virgin Mary, Mother of the Church, accompany you with her protection. I assure you of my remembrance in prayer and bless you with great affection.

From the Vatican, Feb. 22, 2010

BENEDICTUS PP. XVI

reprinted from Zenit

Two immature ways to relate to God

2010-03-15T08:36:00.000-07:00

VATICAN CITY, MARCH 14, 2010.- Here is a translation of the public address Benedict XVI gave today before praying the midday Angelus with the pilgrims gathered in St. Peter's Square.

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Dear Brothers and Sisters!

On this Fourth Sunday of Lent the Gospel about the father and the two sons is proclaimed; this parable is better known as that of the "prodigal son" (Luke 15:11-32). This passage from St. Luke constitutes a meeting point of the spirituality and the literature of all time.

In fact, what would our culture, art, and more generally, our civilization be without this revelation of a God who is a Father full of mercy? It does not cease to move us and every time that we hear it or read it is always able to suggest new meanings to us. Above all, this evangelical text has the power to speak to us of God, to make us know his face, better yet, his heart. After Jesus has told us about the merciful Father, things are not as they were before. Now we know God: he is our Father, who out of love created us free and endowed with conscience, who suffers when we are lost and celebrates when we return. Because of this, the relationship with him is built through a story that is analogous to what happens to every child with their parents: At the beginning the child depends on them; then he asserts his own autonomy; and in the end -- if there is a positive development -- he arrives at a mature relationship based on reconciliation and authentic love.

In these stages we can also read moments of man's journey in his relationship with God. There can be a phase that is like childhood: a religion moved by need, by dependency. Little by little as man grows and emancipates himself, he wants to liberate himself from this submission and become free, adult, able to rule himself and make his own decisions in an autonomous way, thinking he can do without God. Fortunately, God does not dispense with his fidelity and, even if we distance ourselves from him and are lost, he continues to follow us with his love, forgiving our mistakes and speaking within us to our conscience to recall us to himself. In the parable, the two sons behave in opposite ways: The younger one leaves and falls further and further, while the other one remains at home, but he too has an immature relationship with the Father; in fact, when the younger brother returns, the older one is not happy like the Father, but becomes angry and does not want to enter the house. The two sons represent two immature ways to relate to God: rebellion and infantile obedience.

Both of these [immature ways of relating to God] are overcome by the experience of mercy. Only through experiencing forgiveness, recognizing ourselves as loved by a gratuitous love -- that is greater than our misery, but also greater than our justice -- we finally enter into a truly filial and free relationship with God.

Dear Friends, let us meditate on this parable. Let us see ourselves in the two sons, and above all let us contemplate the heart of the Father. Let us throw ourselves into his arms and let ourselves be regenerated by his merciful love. May we aided in this by the Virgin Mary, "Mater misericordiae."

[Translation by Joseph G. Trabbic]

"History is one, even if it is a journey"

2010-03-12T06:48:00.000-08:00

VATICAN CITY, MARCH 10, 2010.- Here is a translation of the address Benedict XVI gave today during the general audience in Paul VI Hall.

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Dear brothers and sisters,

Last week I spoke of the life and personality of St. Bonaventure of Bagnoregio. This morning I would like to continue with the presentation, reflecting on part of his literary work and his doctrine.

As I already said, among various merits, St. Bonaventure had that of interpreting authentically and faithfully the figure of St. Francis of Assisi, whom he venerated and studied with great love. In a particular way, in the times of St. Bonaventure a current of Friars Minor called "spiritual" held that there was a totally new phase of history inaugurated with St. Francis; the "eternal Gospel" had appeared, of which Revelation speaks, which replaced the New Testament. This group affirmed that the Church had now exhausted her historical role, and in her place came a charismatic community of free men guided interiorly by the Spirit, namely, the "spiritual Franciscans." At the base of the ideas of this group were the writings of a Cistercian abbot, Joachim of Fiore, who died in 1202. In his works, he affirmed a Trinitarian rhythm of history. He considered the Old Testament as the age of the Father, followed by the time of the Son, the time of the Church. To be awaited yet was the third age, that of the Holy Spirit. The whole of history was thus interpreted as a history of progress: from the severity of the Old Testament to the relative liberty of the time of the Son, in the Church, up to the full liberty of the children of God, in the period of the Holy Spirit, which would have been also the period of peace among men, of the reconciliation of peoples and religions. Joachim of Fiore aroused the hope that the beginning of the new time would come from a new monasticism. It is thus understandable that a group of Franciscans thought it recognized in St. Francis of Assisi the initiator of the new time and in his order the community of the new period -- the community of the time of the Holy Spirit, which left behind it the hierarchical Church, to begin a new Church of the Spirit, no longer connected to the old structures.

There was, hence, the risk of a very serious misunderstanding of the message of St. Francis, of his humble fidelity to the Gospel and to the Church, and such a mistake implied an erroneous vision of Christianity as a whole.

St. Bonaventure, who in 1257 became minister-general of the Franciscans, found himself before serious tension within his own order due, precisely, to those who espoused this current of "spiritual Franciscans," which aligned itself to Joachim of Fiore. Precisely to respond to this group and to give unity again to the order, St. Bonaventure carefully studied the authentic writings of Joachim of Fiore and those attributed to him and, taking into account the need to present correctly the figure and message of his beloved St. Francis, he wished to show a correct view of the theology of history.

St. Bonaventure addressed the problem in fact in his last work, a collection of conferences to monks of the Paris studio, which remained unfinished and which was completed with the transcriptions of the hearers. It was titled "Hexaemeron," that is, an allegorical explanation of the six days of creation. The Fathers of the Church considered the six or seven days of the account of creation as a prophecy of the history of the world, of humanity. The seven days represented for them seven periods of history, later interpreted also as seven millennia. With Christ we would have entered the last, namely, the sixth period of history, which would then be followed by the great sabbath of God. St. Bonaventure accounts for this historical interpretation of the relation of the days of creation, but in a very free and innovative way. For him, two phenomena of his time render necessary a new interpretation of the course of history:

The first: the figure of St. Francis, the man totally united to Christ up to communion of the stigmata, almost an alter Christus, and with St. Francis the new community created by him, different from the monasticism known up to then. This phenomenon called for a new interpretation, as a novelty of God which appeared in that moment.

The second: the position of Joachim of Fiore, who announced a new monasticism and a totally new period of history, going beyond the revelation of the New Testament, called for an answer.

As minister-general of the Order of Franciscans, St. Bonaventure had seen immediately that with the spiritualistic conception, inspired by Joachim of Fiore, the order was not governable, but was going logically toward anarchy. For him there were two consequences:

The first: the practical need of structures and of insertion in the reality of the hierarchical Church, of the real Church, needed a theological foundation, also because the others, those who followed the spiritualist conception, showed an apparent theological foundation.

The second: although taking into account the necessary realism, it was not necessary to lose the novelty of the figure of St. Francis.

How did St. Bonaventure respond to the practical and theoretical need? Of his answer I can only give here a very schematic and incomplete summary in some points:

1. St. Bonaventure rejected the idea of the Trinitarian rhythm of history. God is one for the whole of history and he is not divided into three divinities. As a consequence, history is one, even if it is a journey and -- according to St. Bonaventure -- a journey of progress.

2. Jesus Christ is the last word of God -- in him God has said all, giving and expressing himself. More than himself, God cannot express, cannot give. The Holy Spirit is Spirit of the Father and of the Son. Christ himself says of the Holy Spirit: He "...will bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you" (John 14:26), "he will take what is mine and declare it to you" (John 16:15). Hence, there is not another higher Gospel, there is not another Church to await. Because of this, the Order of St. Francis had also to insert itself in this Church, in her faith, in her hierarchical order.

3. This does not mean that the Church is immobile, fixed in the past and that novelties cannot be exercised in her. "Opera Christi non deficiunt, sed proficiunt," the works of Christ do not go backward, do not fail, but progress, says the saint in the letter "De tribus quaestionibus." Thus St. Bonaventure formulates explicitly the idea of progress, and this is a novelty in comparison with the Fathers of the Church and a great part of his contemporaries. For St. Bonaventure, Christ is no longer, as he was for the Fathers of the Church, the end, but the center of history; history does not end with Christ, but a new period begins. Another consequence is the following: prevailing up to that moment was the idea that the Fathers of the Church were at the absolute summit of theology, all the following generations could only be their disciples. Even St. Bonaventure recognizes the Fathers as teachers for ever, but the phenomenon of St. Francis gave him the certainty that the richness of the word of Christ is inexhaustible and that also new lights can appear in the new generations. The uniqueness of Christ also guarantees novelties and renewal in all the periods of history.

Certainly, the Franciscan Order -- so he stresses -- belongs to the Church of Jesus Christ, to the Apostolic Church, and cannot build itself on a utopian spiritualism. But, at the same time, the novelty of such an order is valid in comparison with classic monasticism, and St. Bonaventure -- as I said in the preceding catechesis -- defended this novelty against the attacks of the secular clergy of Paris. The Franciscans do not have a fixed monastery, they can be present everywhere to proclaim the Gospel. Precisely the break with stability, characteristic of monasticism, in favor of a new flexibility, restored to the Church her missionary dynamism.

At this point perhaps it is useful to say that also today there are views according to which the whole history of the Church in the second millennium is a permanent decline; some see the decline already immediately after the New Testament. In reality, "opera Christi non deficiunt, sed proficiunt," the works of Christ do not go backward, but progress. What would the Church be without the new spirituality of the Cistercians, of the Franciscans and Dominicans, of the spirituality of St. Teresa of Avila and St. John of the Cross, and so on? This affirmation is also valid today: "Opera Christi non deficiunt, sed proficiunt," they go forward.

St. Bonaventure teaches us the whole of the necessary discernment, even severe, of the sober realism and of openness to new charisms given by Christ, in the Holy Spirit, to his Church. And while this idea of decline is repeated, there is also the other idea, this "spiritualistic utopianism," which is repeated. We know, in fact, how after the Second Vatican Council, some were convinced that everything should be new, that there should be another Church, that the pre-conciliar Church was finished and that we would have another, totally "other" Church. An anarchic utopianism! And thanks be to God, the wise helmsmen of Peter's Barque, Pope Paul VI and Pope John Paul II, on one hand defended the novelty of the council and on the other, at the same time, defended the uniqueness and continuity of the Church, which is always a Church of sinners and always a place of grace.

4. In this connection, St. Bonaventure, as minister-general of the Franciscans, took a line of government in which it was very clear that the new order could not, as a community, live at the same "eschatological height" of St. Francis, in which he saw the future world anticipated, but -- guided, at the same time, by healthy realism and spiritual courage -- had to come as close as possible to the maximum realization of the Sermon on the Mount, which for St. Francis was the rule, though taking into account the limits of man, marked by original sin.

Thus we see that for St. Bonaventure, to govern was not simply a task but was above all to think and to pray. At the base of his government we always find prayer and thought; all his decisions resulted from reflection, from thought illumined by prayer. His profound contact with Christ always accompanied his work of minister-general and that is why he composed a series of theological-mystical writings, which express the spirit of his government and manifest the intention of guiding the order interiorly, of governing, that is, not only through commands and structures, but through guiding and enlightening souls, orienting them to Christ.

Of these his writings, which are the soul of his government and show the way to follow either as an individual or a community, I would like to mention only one, his masterwork, the "Itinerarium mentis in Deum," which is a "manual" of mystical contemplation. This book was conceived in a place of profound spirituality: the hill of La Verna, where St. Francis had received the stigmata. In the introduction, the author illustrates the circumstances that gave origin to his writing: "While I meditated on the possibility of the soul ascending to God, presented to me, among others, was that wondrous event that occurred in that place to Blessed Francis, namely, the vision of the winged seraphim in the form of a crucifix. And meditating on this, immediately I realized that such a vision offered me the contemplative ecstasy of Father Francis himself and at the same time the way that leads to it" (Journey of the Mind in God, Prologue, 2, in Opere di San Bonaventura. Opuscoli Teologici / 1, Rome, 1993, p. 499).

The six wings of the seraphim thus became the symbol of six stages that lead man progressively to the knowledge of God through observation of the world and of creatures and through the exploration of the soul itself with its faculties, up to the satisfying union with the Trinity through Christ, in imitation of St. Francis of Assisi. The last words of St. Bonaventure's "Itinerarium," which respond to the question of how one can reach this mystical communion with God, would make one descend to the depth of the heart: "If you now yearn to know how that happens (mystical communion with God), ask grace, not doctrine; desire, not the intellect; the groaning of prayer, not the study of the letter; the spouse, not the teacher; God, not man; darkness not clarity; not light but the fire that inflames everything and transport to God with strong unctions and ardent affections. ... We enter therefore into darkness, we silence worries, the passions and illusions; we pass with Christ Crucified from this world to the Father, so that, after having seen him, we say with Philip: that is enough for me" (Ibid., VII, 6).

Dear friends, let us take up the invitation addressed to us by St. Bonaventure, the Seraphic Doctor, and let us enter the school of the divine Teacher: We listen to his Word of life and truth, which resounds in the depth of our soul. Let us purify our thoughts and actions, so that he can dwell in us, and we can hear his divine voice, which draws us toward true happiness.

[Translation by ZENIT]

[The Holy Father then greeted the people in several languages. In English, he said:]

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

In our catechesis on the Christian culture of the Middle Ages, we return to the teaching of Saint Bonaventure, the great Franciscan theologian of the thirteenth century. Bonaventure refuted the idea, based on the doctrine of Joachim of Fiore and associated with the "spiritual" Franciscans, that Saint Francis had inaugurated a new and final age of the Holy Spirit, to replace the age of Christ and the Church. In his defence of the newness of the Franciscan charism, he developed a remarkable theology of history and progress, based on the definitiveness of the Christ event and its enduring fruitfulness in the history of the Church. He insisted that Christian revelation will not be surpassed in history, and that the future fulfillment of God's plan remains the object of our Christian hope.

Bonaventure was influenced by the writings of Pseudo-Dionysius, which present God as the origin and goal of a goodness which pervades the cosmos. In his work, The Journey of the Mind to God, he guides the soul from created realities to the mystic contemplation of the Triune God. Bonaventure made Christ the centre of his theology; his writings invite us to welcome Christ's word into our hearts and thus to experience the joy of God's eternal love.

I offer a warm welcome to the many school groups present, including the Bruderhof group from England and the students of Saint Michael's Holy Cross Secondary School in Dublin, Ireland. The developments taking place in Northern Ireland in these days are a promising sign of hope, and I pray that they will help to consolidate the future of peace desired by all. Upon the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors I invoke God's abundant blessings.

Copyright 2010 - Libreria Editrice Vaticana

[He concluded in Italian:]

I greet, finally, the youth, sick and newlyweds. Dear young people, may the Lenten journey that we are taking be an occasion for authentic conversion that leads you to maturity of faith in Christ. Dear sick people, participating with love in the suffering of the Son of God incarnate, you are able to share preliminarily in the glory and joy of his resurrection. And you, dear newlyweds, find in the alliance that, at the cost of his blood, Christ has made with his Church, the support and model of your marital pact and of your mission at the service of the Gospel.

I am profoundly close to the persons hit by the recent earthquake in Turkey and their families. I assure each one of my prayers, while I ask the international community to contribute rescue services with promptness and generosity.

My deep sympathy also goes to the victims of the atrocious violence that bloodies Nigeria and that has not spared even defenseless children. Once again I repeat with a heartbroken spirit that violence does not resolve conflicts, but only increases the tragic consequences. I appeal to all those who have civil and religious responsibility in the country, to do their utmost for the security and peaceful coexistence of all the population. I express, finally, my closeness to Nigerian pastors and faithful and I pray that, strong and firm in hope, they will be authentic witnesses of reconciliation.

reprinted from Zenit

"Our thoughts or our opinions seem more useful, more intelligent than what happens"

2010-03-12T05:23:00.000-08:00

From a talk given by Fr. Julián Carrón (September 2006):

What educates us is an event. It is fundamental to help each other to understand this. So our meetings are gestures, not simply words. What broadens the mind is not an abstract argument, but taking part in an event.... It is not a matter of ability or cleverness. We are poor wretches. it is only by letting ourselves be involved in a gesture as beggars, going to Communion as poor wretches, to receive strength from an Other, that we can breathe, for Christ came for this, to facilitate this use of reason, to broaden it.

Soon afterward he journeyed to a city called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd accompanied him. As he drew near to the gate of the city, a man who had died was being carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow. A large crowd from the city was with her. When the Lord saw her, he was moved with pity for her and said to her, 'Do not weep.' He stepped forward and touched the coffin; at this the bearers halted, and he said, 'Young man, I tell you, arise!' The dead man sat up and began to speak, and Jesus gave him to his mother. Fear seized them all, and they glorified God, exclaiming, 'A great prophet has arisen in our midst,' and 'God has visited his people.'

Why do they think of God? Why can they not stop at what they see? The event before them will not let them get bogged down in their own measure. This is what facilitates the broadening of reason, to the point of recognizing God, of glorifying God.

Now this is the definitive method. In all circumstances we can verify the Christian faith, because the Christian faith is not the prolongation of Christ's words -- if there is faith, it is because the event of His presence goes on happening amongst us. Either Christianity is an event in action, or it has changed its nature -- in other words, it is no longer Christianity. It's not just a matter of using the expression, "Christianity is an event." It is not an event because I say so, it is an event if it happens. We cannot get out of it by using formulas or labels -- it is a present event.

As I have said on a number of occasions in various settings, I am really astounded at how many events have happened amongst us over the past year. But I need to acknowledge them, I need that "human genius" Fr. Giussani spoke of, aand that we recalled at La Thuile, that poverty of spirit that makes us let ourselves be struck by what happens. We are often concerned with other things, and not open to accept what happens; our thoughts or our opinions seem more useful, more intelligent than what happens. But reality is stubborn and, as Pavese said, 'the most resolute thought is nothing compared with what happens.'

Here is what happens when a person is willing to be struck: "I would like to thank you because these days have been a privileged occasion for me to grasp better to whom I belong." The writer is a university man. "When we are with you, this comes out more and more clearly. Some weeks ago, I began to study again At the Origin of the Christian Claim and I was struck by what Fr. Giussani said in the Foreward: 'What makes us grow and broadens our mind is not abstract reasoning, but finding in humanity a moment when the truth is attained and uttered.' This happened to me. I have grown, I went away more expert in life, in myself, not because I learned something new in the argument, but because I met someone who introduced me to this absolute novelty. Now I am more certain that the only road is the sequela, curious to discover, to know and to fall more in love with Christ, through those who, in reality, make me meet Him as a living reality. Thank you for the education you offer me -- it is the only way not to succumb to nothingness." [...]

Another person, who...attended our visit to South America, wrote to me: "Before you arrived, I asked myself many times what I was expecting, and the only answer I was able to give that really satisfied me was what Fr. Giussani had said , 'It seems to me they are not looking for Christ.' What I wanted was this [to look for Christ]. Fr. Giussani affirms, 'If you could carry with you the content of the awareness of all the past days, of the years spent in the Memoris Domini [group of vowed lay religious with CL] or in the "verification" or in the Movement, I don't know if you wouldn't feel covered with shame...if we were to realize in that moment that we have never said "You." [We can ask ourselves this -- when was the last time we said, "You," with all the awareness and emotion we are capable of?] Lord, You are the One I love [St. Augustine said]: "What does man desire more than the truth?" What is the truth? A man who is present, a man who is present: he cannot be squandered or washed away by the pretty and jolly appearance of the companionship of faces that should be a sign of Him! This happens when you really say "You" with all the awareness of your "I" -- the more you are aware of yourself, the stronger, greater, truer, simpler and purer is your devotion to Him.' Your simplicity, your clarity, your affection, your way of constantly challenging reality, seeking a verification in it, have truly won me over and made me understand once again the preference and the fullness of the life of Jesus, the life Jesus has us experience every day, and now there is all the desire that this beauty accompany my life and that of all my friends who have seen it."

In this way, each one of us can become a companion for others. It is not a question of being good (and we will not be), but of letting ourselves be drawn along by His presence. This is what enables us to look at everything, even what doesn't look nice...
- Notes from an address by Julián Carrón at the CL Opening Day for Adults in Lombady, Italy, September 30, 2006

Aroused by the Presence of Christ

2010-03-11T20:10:00.000-08:00

Don Gius

Paul's conversion (and let me echo the words of St Augustine used speaking about his own conversion) is simply the passage from his dedication to God to recognition of what God has done and does in Jesus.

Augustine describes his conversion thus: "When I read the apostle Paul [and immediately afterwards -because it is not enough to the Scriptures--he adds:] and when Your hand healed the sadness of my heart, then I understood the difference inter praesumptionem et confessionem / between dedication and recognition." Praesumptio does not indicate a bad thing. In the long term it decays into bad presumption, but initially it indicates a person's attempt to achieve the good ideal intuited. Christian conversion is the passage from this attempt to do good (good works, said Pope Benedict) to the simple recognition of the presence of Jesus. From praesumptio, dedication, to confessio, recognition. The confessio, recognition, is like when the child says, 'Mamma." As when the mother comes towards the child and it says, 'Mamma."

Christian conversion, for Augustine and Paul, is (let me use the image of Don Giussani's that, in my opinion, has no equivalent) the transition from the enthusiasm of dedication to the enthusiasm of beauty; from the enthusiasm of one's own dedication, which in itself is good, to the enthusiasm aroused by a presence that attracts the heart, a presence which gratuitously comes forward and gratuitously makes itself recognized. Paul had done nothing to meet Him. His gratuitous coming forwards accomplishes the transition from our dedication to the beauty of His presence that makes itself recognized through attraction. And between recognition and dedication there is no contradiction. Giussani says simply that "enthusiasm of dedication is incomparable with the enthusiasm of beauty." It is the same term St Augustine uses when he describes the relationship between the virtue of men and the first steps of those who put their hope in the grace and mercy of God.

We might also say that when by grace a person happens to live the same experience that Paul went through, his same experience, in the infinite remove from him, it is as if all the Christian words, the word of faith, the word salvation, the word Church, were transparent of the initiative of Jesus Christ. It is He who stirs faith, Faith is His working. It is He who saves. Bestowing salvation is His initiative. It is He who builds His Church. "Aedifcabo ecclesiam meam" (Mt 16:18). Aedificabo is a future tense [verb]: "I will build my Church" on the profession of faith of Peter, on the grace of faith given to Peter (cf. Mt 16:18). It is He who builds personally, in the present, His Church on a gift of His.

Giussani was speaking to a group of young people. At a certain point he asked: "What puts us in relationship with Jesus Christ? What, now, puts us in relationship with Jesus Christ?" People said: "The Church," "The community," "Our friendship," and so on. At the end of all the suggestions, Giussani repeated the question: "What puts us in relationship with Jesus Christ?" And then gave the answer himself: "The fact that He is risen." Because were He not risen, were He not alive, the Church would be a merely human institution, like so many others. One burden more. All things merely human in the become a burden. The Church is the visible term of the gesture of the living Jesus who meets the heart and attracts it.

Don Giacomo Tartandini, 30 Days, no. 6/7 2009

h/t Paul Zalonski, on Communio

He needs to listen

2010-03-08T19:50:00.000-08:00

VATICAN CITY, FEB. 28, 2010.- Here is a translation of the words Benedict XVI spoke this Saturday to those present in the Redemptoris Mater Chapel in the Vatican at the conclusion of the Retreat preached by Salesian Father Enrico Dal Covolo to the Pope and the Roman curia.

* * *

Dear Brothers,
Dear Father Enrico,

In the name of all of us present here I would like to say thank you with my whole heart to you, Father Enrico, for this retreat, for the impassioned and very personal way in which you guided our path toward Christ, on path of renewal of our priesthood.

You chose as your starting point, as an always present background, as destination -- we saw it just now -- Solomon's prayer for "a heart that hears." In truth, it seems to me that here the whole Christian vision of man is recapitulated. Man is not perfect in himself, man has need of relation -- he is a being in relation. It is not his "cogito" that can "cogitare" the whole of reality. He needs to listen, to listen to the other, above all the Other -- with a capital "O" -- who is God. Only in this way does he know himself, only in this way does he become himself.

From my place here I always saw the Mother of the Redeemer, the "Sedes Sapietiae," the living seat of wisdom, with Wisdom incarnate in her womb. And as we saw, St. Luke presents Mary precisely as a woman who listens from the heart, who is immersed in the Word of God, who listens to the Word, who meditates ("synballein") on it, composes and treasures it, who carries it in her heart. The Fathers of the Church say that in the moment of the conception of the eternal Word in the womb of the Virgin the Holy Spirit entered into Mary through her ear. In listening she conceived the eternal Word, she gave her flesh to this Word. And thus she tells what it means to have a heart that listens.

Mary is surrounded here by the fathers and the mothers of the Church, by the communion of saints. And so we see and we have understood during these days that we cannot truly hear the Word in the isolated "I" but only in the "we" of the Church, in the "we" of the communion of saints.

And you, dear Father Enrico, have shown us, have provided a voice for five exemplary figures of the priesthood, beginning with Ignatius of Antioch and continuing to the dear and venerable Pope John Paul II. Thus we have truly again perceived what it means to be a priest, to become priests more and more.

You have also stressed that consecration is for mission, it is destined to become mission. During these days we have penetrated our consecration more deeply with God's help. Thus, with new courage, we would like now to take up our mission. May the Lord help us. Thank you for your help, Father Enrico.

reprinted from Zenit

Reading history with God's eyes

2010-03-08T08:14:00.001-08:00

VATICAN CITY, MARCH 7, 2010.- Here is a translation of the address Benedict XVI gave today before and after praying the midday Angelus with those gathered in St. Peter's Square.

* * *

Dear brothers and sisters,

The liturgy of this Third Sunday of Lent presents us with the theme of conversion. In the first reading, taken from the Book of Exodus, Moses, while he is feeding his flock, sees a burning bush, which is not consumed by the fire that burns it. He comes closer to observe this prodigy when a voice calls him by name and, inviting him to be aware of his unworthiness, commands him to take off his shoes, because the place is a holy one. [The voice says to him] “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob”; and adds: “I am he who is!” (Exodus 3:6a, 14).

God manifests himself in different ways also in each of our lives. To recognize his presence however we must draw near to him aware of our misery and with profound respect. In any other way we would make ourselves incapable of meeting him and of entering into communion with him. As the Apostle Paul writes, this event too is told about for our edification: It reminds us that God does not reveal himself to those who are pervaded by sufficiency and frivolity, but to him who is poor and humble before him.

In the passage from today’s Gospel Jesus is questioned about some sorrowful events: the killing in the Temple of some Galileans on the order of Pontius Pilate and the collapse of a tower on some passers-by (cf. Luke 13:1-5). In the face of the facile conclusion that the evil is the effect of divine punishment, Jesus restores the true image of God, who is good and cannot will evil, and warning people not to think that these misfortunes are the immediate effect of the personal guilt of those who suffered them, says: “Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were greater sinners than all other Galileans? By no means! But I tell you, if you do not repent, you will all perish as they did!” (Luke 13:2-3).

Jesus invites us to interpret these facts differently, connecting them with conversion: misfortunes, sorrowful events, should not arouse curiosity in us or a seeking of people presumed to be guilty, but they must be occasions for reflecting, for overcoming the illusion of pretending to live without God, and for reinforcing, with the Lord’s help, the commitment to change our life. In the face of sin, God shows himself to be full of mercy and he does not fail to call sinners to avoid evil, to grow in his love and to concretely help our neighbor in need, to live the joy of grace and not risk eternal death. But the possibility of conversion entails that we learn to read the events of life in the light of faith, animated by the holy fear of God. In the presence of suffering and grief, true wisdom is to let oneself be called from the precariousness of existence and to read human history with God’s eyes, who, always and only wanting the good of his children, by an inscrutable plan of his love, sometimes allows them to be tried through suffering to lead them to a greater good.

Dear friends, let us pray to Mary Most Holy, who accompanies us on the Lenten journey, to help every Christian to return to the Lord with his whole heart. May she sustain our firm decision to renounce evil and to accept God’s will in our life with faith.

[Translation by Joseph G. Trabbic]

Reading History with God's eyes

2010-03-07T14:55:00.000-08:00

VATICAN CITY, MARCH 7, 2010.- Here is a translation of the address Benedict XVI gave today before and after praying the midday Angelus with those gathered in St. Peter's Square.

* * *

Dear brothers and sisters,

[Translation by Joseph G. Trabbic]

"What must I do with my life?"

2010-03-05T06:51:00.000-08:00

VATICAN CITY, MARCH 3, 2010.- Here is a translation of the address Benedict XVI gave today during the general audience in Paul VI Hall.

* * *

Dear brothers and sisters,

Today I would like to speak about St. Bonaventure of Bagnoregio. I confide to you that on proposing this theme I feel a certain nostalgia because I remember the research that, as a young scholar, I carried out precisely on this author, whom I particularly esteem. His knowledge has been of no small influence in my formation. With great joy I went on pilgrimage a few months ago to his birthplace, Bagnoregio, a small Italian city, in Latium, which venerates his memory.

Born probably in 1217, he died in 1274; he lived in the 13th century, an age in which the Christian faith, profoundly permeating the culture and society of Europe, inspired immortal works in the field of literature, visual arts, philosophy and theology. Striking among the great Christian figures who contributed to the composition of this harmony between faith and culture is, precisely, Bonaventure, man of action and of contemplation, of profound piety and of prudence in governing.

He was called John of Fidanza. An incident that occurred when he was still a boy profoundly marked his life, as he himself relates. He had been affected by a serious illness and not even his father, who was a doctor, hoped to save him from death. His mother appealed then to the intercession of St. Francis of Assisi, canonized a short time earlier. And John was cured. The figure of the Poverello of Assisi became even more familiar a year later, when he was in Paris, where he had gone for his studies. He had obtained the diploma of Master of Arts, which we could compare to that of a prestigious secondary school of our time. At that point, as so many young people of the past and also of today, John asked himself a crucial question: "What must I do with my life?" Fascinated by the witness of fervor and evangelical radicalism of the Friars Minor, who had arrived in Paris in 1219, John knocked on the doors of the Franciscan monastery of that city, and asked to be received in the great family of the disciples of St. Francis.

Many years later, he explained the reasons for his choice: He recognized the action of Christ in St. Francis and in the movement he initiated. He wrote thus in a letter addressed to another friar: "I confess before God that the reason that made me love more the life of Blessed Francis is that it is similar to the origin and growth of the Church. The Church began with simple fishermen, and was enriched immediately with very illustrious and wise doctors; the religion of Blessed Francis was not established by the prudence of men, but by Christ" (Epistula de tribus quaestionibus ad magistrum innominatum, in Opere di San Bonaventura. Intoduzione generale, Rome, 1990, p. 29).

Therefore, around the year 1243 John put on the Franciscan coarse woolen cloth and took the name Bonaventure. He was immediately directed to studies and frequented the faculty of theology of the University of Paris, following a program of very difficult courses. He obtained the different titles required by the academic career, those of "biblical bachelor's" and "bachelor's in sentences." Thus Bonaventure studied in depth sacred Scripture, the Sentences of Peter Lombard, the manual of theology of that time, and the most important authors of theology and, in contact with the teachers and students that arrived in Paris from the whole of Europe, he matured his own personal reflection and a spiritual sensitivity of great value that, in the course of the following years, showed in his works and sermons, thus making him one of the most important theologians of the history of the Church. It is significant to recall the title of the thesis he defended to be able to qualify in the teaching of theology, the licentia ubique docendi, as it was then called. His dissertation was titled "Questions on Knowledge of Christ." This argument shows the central role that Christ always had in the life and teaching of Bonaventure. We can say, in fact, that all his thought was profoundly Christocentric.

In those years in Paris, Bonaventure's adopted city, a violent dispute broke out against the Friars Minor of St. Francis of Assisi and the Friars Preachers of St. Dominic Guzmán. Debated was their right to teach in the university and doubts were even cast on the authenticity of their consecrated life. Certainly the changes introduced by the Mendicant Orders in the way of understanding religious life, of which I spoke in preceding catecheses, were so innovative that not everyone understood them. Also added, as happens sometimes among sincerely religious persons, were motives of human weakness, such as envy and jealousy. Bonaventure, although surrounded by the opposition of the rest of the university teachers, had already started to teach in the chair of theology of the Franciscans and, to respond to those who were criticizing the Mendicant Orders, he composed a writing titled "Evangelical Perfection." In this writing he showed how the Mendicant Orders, especially the Friars Minor, practicing the vows of poverty, chastity and obedience, were following the counsels of the Gospel itself. Beyond these historical circumstances, the teaching offered by Bonaventure in this work of his and in his life is always timely: The Church becomes luminous and beautiful by fidelity to the vocation of those sons and daughters of hers who not only put into practice the evangelical precepts, but who, by the grace of God, are called to observe their advice and thus give witness, with their poor, chaste and obedient lifestyle, that the Gospel is source of joy and perfection.

The conflict died down, at least for a certain period, and, by the personal intervention of Pope Alexander IV, in 1257 Bonaventure was officially recognized as doctor and teacher of the Parisian University. Despite all this, he had to resign from this prestigious post, because that same year the General Chapter of the order elected him minister-general.

He carried out this task for 17 years with wisdom and dedication, visiting the provinces, writing to brothers, intervening at times with a certain severity to eliminate abuses. When Bonaventure began this service, the Order of Friars Minor had developed in a prodigious way: There were more than 30,000 friars spread over the whole of the West, with a missionary presence in North Africa, the Middle East and also Peking. It was necessary to consolidate this expansion and above all to confer on it, in full fidelity to Francis' charism, unity of action and spirit. In fact, among the followers of the Saint of Assisi there were different forms of interpreting his message and the risk really existed of an internal split. To avoid this danger, in 1260 the General Chapter of the order in Narbonne accepted and ratified a text proposed by Bonaventure, which unified the norms that regulated the daily life of the Friars Minor. Bonaventure intuited, however, that the legislative dispositions, though inspired in wisdom and moderation, were not sufficient to ensure communion of spirit and hearts. It was necessary to share the same ideals and the same motivations. For this reason, Bonaventure wished to present the authentic charism of Francis, his life and his teaching. Hence he gathered with great zeal documents related to the Poverello and listened attentively to the memories of those who had known Francis directly. From this was born a biography, historically well founded, of the Saint of Assisi, titled Legenda Maior, written also in a very succinct manner and called because of this the Legend. The Latin word, as opposed to the Italian [and English, legend], does not indicate a fruit of imagination but, on the contrary, Legenda means an authoritative text, "to be read" officially. In fact, the General Chapter of the Friars Minor of 1263, which met in Pisa, recognized in St. Bonaventure's biography the most faithful portrait of the founder and it thus became the official biography of the saint.

What is the image of St. Francis that arises from the heart and pen of his devoted son and successor, St. Bonaventure? The essential point: Francis is an alter Christus, a man who passionately sought Christ. In the love that drives to imitation, he was entirely conformed to Him. Bonaventure pointed out this living ideal to all of Francis' followers. This ideal, valid for every Christian, yesterday, today and always, was indicated as a program also for the Church of the Third Millennium by my predecessor, the Venerable John Paul II. This program, he wrote in the letter "Tertio Millennio Ineunte," is centered "on Christ himself, who must be known, loved and imitated to live in Him the Trinitarian life, and, with Him, to transform history to its fulfillment in the heavenly Jerusalem" (No. 29).

In 1273 St. Bonaventure's life met with another change. Pope Gregory X wished to consecrate him bishop and name him cardinal. He also asked him to prepare a very important ecclesial event: the Second Ecumenical Council of Lyon, whose objective was the re-establishment of communion between the Latin and the Greek Churches. He dedicated himself to this task with diligence, but was unable to see the conclusion of that ecumenical summit, as he died while it was being held. An anonymous papal notary composed a eulogy of Bonaventure, which offers us a conclusive portrait of this great saint and excellent theologian: "Good, affable, pious and merciful man, full of virtues, loved by God and by men ... God, in fact, had given him such grace, that all those who saw him were invaded by a love that the heart could not conceal" (cf. J.G. Bougerol, Bonaventura, in A. Vauchez (vv.aa), Storia dei Santi e della santita cristiana. Vol. VI. L'epoca del rinnovamento evangelico, Milan, 1991, p. 91).

Let us take up the legacy of this saint, doctor of the Church, who reminds us of the meaning of our life with these words: "On earth ... we can contemplate the divine immensity through reasoning and admiration; in the heavenly homeland, instead, through vision, when we will be made like to God, and through ecstasy --- we will enter into the joy of God" (La conoscenza di Cristo, q. 6, conclusione, in Opere di San Bonaventura. Opuscoli Teologici /1, Rome, 1993, p. 187).

reprinted from Zenit

Monsignor Albacete on God

2010-02-22T18:16:00.000-08:00

Transcript:

Wright: Well first of all thanks for taking the time.

Lorenzo Albacete: Thanks for the invitation.

Wright: I've been reading your book, "God at the Ritz" and...

Lorenzo Albacete: Very good.

Wright: It's a very good book or it's...

Lorenzo Albacete: It's very good to read it...

Wright: ...that I've been reading it... it is a good.

Lorenzo Albacete: I see.

Wright: There's a place in it where you refer to a line of Flannery's O'Connor's where she says that the trouble with contemporary life is that people are equivalent of ... what is it?

Lorenzo Albacete: Wingless chickens.

Wright: Wingless chickens?

Lorenzo Albacete: Wingless chickens yes.

Wright: And what does that mean?

Lorenzo Albacete: There is, apparently, I don't know anything about up-keep of chickens but apparently if you cut their wings they will become fatter and and better tasting - the meat gets better. Unfortunately you cut their wings so they're unable to, well not to fly really... They're not big flyers. It's not like they were soaring eagles but at least they have experience of up and down...

Wright: Right.

Lorenzo Albacete: ...Another dimension. When you cut their wings in order to improve their usefulness they lose that experience. Flannery O'Connor's argument was that in order to better parts of our lives (()) we have lost our wings and cannot tell another dimension, a dimension of interiority for example.

Wright: So we focus so much on material comfort that we've lost track...

Lorenzo Albacete: Yes although I don't that the word material is a question of material or spiritual because they are mostly metaphysical questions whereas here I think she means it at the level of experience. Can we experience a dimension that goes beyond the horizontal one?

Wright: And for you that dimension ultimately leads to religious experience.

Lorenzo Albacete: I think the experience of that dimension is a religious experience, yes.

0:02:02

Wright: Now the book has God in the title but I noticed that actually the word "God" doesn't appear all that much in the book itself. You use, when you're referring to this dimension of experience, you use words like "the transcendent" "eternal" "the infinite"... in fact the subtitle is "Attraction to Infinity"... or the mystery.... is there a reason that you're kind of avoiding ...

Lorenzo Albacete: Yes yes it's because God is ...for two reasons. First, it's already a loaded word and there are, I can imagine as many ideas or definitions or thoughts suggested by the word God as there are people so I look for something because you could have this experience without necessarily tying it to a personal reality. You can think of it as a dimension of life. In order to make it as non-confessional as possible I look for those other words. The word I really like I suppose is "mystery"..

Wright: That's a big word among Catholics isn't it?

Lorenzo Albacete: Yes. Also it's a big New Testament word.

Wright: Is it in the New Testament?

Lorenzo Albacete: ...St. Paul especially. But there it has a very precise meaning. Mystery here means, in a certain way, an unknown, something you are looking for.

Wright: Right and I gather I mean the book is intended largely for people who are not already, at least conventionally, religious. Right? I mean it's not a book aimed at Catholics.

Lorenzo Albacete: Sure. No no no not at all.

Wright: Yes and I mean I gather one of the things you're up to is trying to talk about God in ways that make sense in a modern, intellectual... I mean, if you look at the Bible, there are some very anthropomorphic descriptions of God. There are descriptions of God sitting in a throne...

Lorenzo Albacete: Yes.

Wright: ...now, that's probably not the way you conceive of God...

Lorenzo Albacete: No no.

Wright: ...but I guess one question I have is: how much can you modernize your description of God before it starts sounding too vague to have great emotional impact on people. I mean ... terms like "the transcendent" and "the infinite," they can mean a lot of things to a lot of people and I assume that you yourself as a believer have a somewhat more specific conception of God. Well, what is your... in other words you have a conception of God that is consistent with those terms, those are attributes of the God you think of but you think of something more when you think about God...

Lorenzo Albacete: Yes. I think of a concrete human face...

Wright: You do?

Lorenzo Albacete: Jesus Christ.

Wright: I see. You think of Jesus as the incarnation of God.

Lorenzo Albacete: Yes.

Wright: So when you think about God it's actually Jesus you think about?

Lorenzo Albacete: Yes and no. When I think about God, I think about the reality ... something... whatever it is that corresponds to the fulfillment of certain needs and desires of my heart. And of my mind, answers to certain questions, answers to demands of effectivity... for example, say the thirst for justice. I experience that and yet I find that, where can I find justice? The love for the beautiful. What is beauty? Even a not too very popular concern but truth. I don't want to be deceived. But what is truth? for example. These are needs of the human heart and that which ... and since I look where to find them and I find traces here and there and I can identify and say "That was beautiful." "Yes, that was good." "Yes, that was just." But these are concrete individual cases. Is there any such thing as a sort of justice of good, of beauty like that. I don't know so I search for that.

0:06:16

Wright: But it's not enough for you to look at something and say "Oh that's really beautiful. It feels good..." You almost need a grand unified theory of beauty and justice.

Lorenzo Albacete: I would certainly hope it would be enough (()). It's not enough, not because I don't want to, it's because it pushes you further. I don't want... I would rather... I wish I would be able to say I just settled for items and I don't try to unify them at all. But that is not my heart. I want a beauty that doesn't end. I want a justice that doesn't have to be fought for again and again and again, that we actually learn to live by it. The experience of the particular itself moves me beyond, shows me that I am on to a particular on a path but on a path towards some mystery that contains the secret of justice, beauty, truth, etc. That's my experience.

Wright: You're not just saying you would like to see perfect justice on this planet, which we'd all like see, or you would like to see you know lots of beauty on the planet. You would like to have some kind of comprehension of and communication with the ultimate source of all of these good things.

Lorenzo Albacete: I would like to experience and to have an understanding of it but I don't demand an understanding in a sense of a definition and "Now I totally understand it," because I think the most outrageous human experience is love, for example. From the moment you understand it you have lost it. So, I don't demand that kind of understanding. I demand a reasonableness that corresponds to my heart and always more. I want more.

Wright: And to some extent I assume you have found it by virtue of having a religious life.

Lorenzo Albacete: I have found the path. For me, faith comes in when I say "This is a path that I can follow." But it's still a path forever.

Wright: I mean this is a kind of surprise for me in the book was the extend of your emphasis on questioning and exploring as part of a religious life. Whereas there are some religious traditions within Christianity where the idea you get is not about questioning at all because they say they've got all the answers. Right? I mean you can certainly... and I mean even official Catholic doctrine and official Christian doctrine has a certain amount of consistent saying "You have to be sure that Jesus was the son of God to be saved." Right? That's a completely confident view.

Lorenzo Albacete: But my question is, yes, alright, those are words but what do they mean? I order to find out what they mean I need to explore, I need to ask, I need to question. If at any one time I have put the matter down, that's it, definitely no more questioning then I am actually at the level of the mystery itself, of God. That's self-defeating. I think the path is ... there's a difference between and the kind of comprehension ... we're talking about two different kinds of comprehension and certainty. It is the teaching of the church however it is has been emphasized enough or not or whether most people are aware or not at least in the Catholic church that the doctrines and dogmas are signposts but not the reality that one is after. These are signposts pointing in the direction of that which surpasses onwards and all doctrines and all dogmas and it should.

0:10:29

Wright: I assume that at some points in your life you felt like you were having more success on the path than others or...

Lorenzo Albacete: Everyday...

Wright: ...you felt you were closer... what's that?

Lorenzo Albacete: I feel everyday that I've certainly...

Wright: You have ups and downs.

Lorenzo Albacete: ...veered off, fallen or actually taken many steps back.

Wright: Maybe some details on that would be interesting...

Lorenzo Albacete: Well because this happens as you live your life, as you react to the circumstances that determine where you are, so you have to go through these in a sense every time. You know even the great -- in the Catholic tradition -- John of the Cross, Teresa of Avila, they were all forced to draw these little maps of growth into absolute union with God... the castle, the mountain and you are at this stage and that stage. They were forced because people demanded that kind of outline but again and again and again they repeated for as one it cannot be done. It just doesn't follow a drawing. And second, you achieve a point that doesn't mean it is there. You take off from that point, you actually probably come back to the beginning again. I have to decide everyday whether I believe what I believe everyday.

Wright: But I assume you must have had some pretty profound experiences because, for one thing, you went into the priesthood. You were, at one point, a scientist, right?

Lorenzo Albacete: Yes.

Wright: A physicist in, I guess, space science or...?

Lorenzo Albacete: Yes.

Wright: And you decided to take a kind of radical turn you know and follow a vocation that has a lot of rewards but also demands a lot of sacrifices.

Lorenzo Albacete: Yes.

Wright: I assume you must have had at least one very powerful experience and I'm wondering if you can at all relate to us the nature of the experience.

Lorenzo Albacete: I must tell you that it wasn't very powerful at all. For me, I can't speak for other people, the vocation of the priesthood was among the most fragile things that existed. It was there. it wasn't there for many years, I was practically in fact I was in the age to get married ... it hadn't been announced, but then suddenly it appeared in an afternoon where I was involved with a church activity --- the parish where John F. Kennedy used to go in Washington --- and this is soon, well not that soon, after the Vatican Council so there were more lay involvement lectures, ministers of communion, that kind of stuff and I was a lecture, the best in the area. My specialty was the Passion of Christ according to Saint John, the narrator... I do that part the best. And I was doing that and it came out really neat, I really wasn't even thinking of it in religious terms, more like a performance. It was kind of like really neat and then suddenly I recognize inside a very weak suggestion, like why not do this kind of stuff full-time. Would you consider the priesthood? I mean, I didn't hear any voices, it just felt... I felt a call I have not felt before. Of course I roar with laughter...

Wright: It was more than, "Hey, I'm pretty good at this."

Lorenzo Albacete: Yes. But it starts with almost "Hey, I'm pretty good at this." Then you suddenly notice, to me, that there was something there that was different. Now, again, from that moment until the day I decided it was to be two almost three years because I thought it was absurd. During that time it never got any stronger than just a possibility, a suggestion. So it wasn't difficult to resist or to ignore. But suddenly, in certain moments, it was back and finally I hardly discussed this with anyone, I don't think I did for years... eventually I asked a few people but not people who knew me well. What convinced me was that I, one day, looking back, I came to the realization that it was irresponsible for me not to say "yes" or "no" to this possibility... to even the invitation to try it out. After all, it was that I say "yes" and then I'm a priest. I had to go to the seminary... at any one time I could have just walked out and in the end I imagine I can walk out anyway. But, why not try it out? One day, I began thinking, "You know, it's really evasive of me not to try this out." And then I realized, if I don't say yes then it will go away. Not that I will not be happy or anything but that the door would be closed and I didn't want it closed. I didn't exactly fall off a horse like Saint Paul or anything I just said "What the heck, let's try it out." I think is very important and this is what I bring in from science and frankly in my life, in theology, even as a priest I have found people who don't have these standards. I am not saying anything unless I have verified it. But the method is how to verify it and in what way. I mean you have to have a reasonable basis. In the end you decide. Because to say if it is about love, how do you verify whether you are going to marry such a person? What kind of proof do you demand that that person loves you? When you know depending on what proofs you demand you are never going to respond to it. What is reasonable? That's what you want to do, something that makes sense. Well, I believe that this is exactly the same way someone has to verify the proposal of faith. Does it make sense?

0:16:58

Wright: So your religious convictions have to be consistent with reason...

Lorenzo Albacete: Absolutely.

Wright: ... but you stress again and again that the driving force for a religious person is a kind of passion. In the book you compare the passion for religion to other passions ...

Lorenzo Albacete: In fact I think other passions are expressions of the passions of religion, put it that way. That's just a title. Life itself is a passion. By passion I mean a search, a quest that is never satisfied and so increases even as it tastes what it is looking for it gets stronger and wants more. I believe this is a characteristic that in some ways expresses or defines best our humanity. I think, more than intelligence, will and freedom, the real key to humanity is desire. And it is there because you can verify it in yourself. At one time, if you said "That's it. I have enough. I am completely, fully satisfied. I'll never again have..." You say that every time one wants something particular, that's when you say, even when you're a little kid, "If you buy me this, I'll never ask you for another present again." Oh yeah sure. But we go life thinking like kids like that. If only I had this, finally that's it and I can relax. It's just not true. I'm not attacking it, I'm just saying, "That's life." But you always want more and more and more.

Wright: And religion is a deeper manifestation...

Lorenzo Albacete: Yes, I think this is what I call religion, that quest, that search for whatever it is that will bring fulfillment, that really corresponds to your desire. I think religion can be defined as that... as the impetus that drives humanity.

Wright: The desire to know things like why...

Lorenzo Albacete: Yes! What is the relation among thing, etc.

Wright: But why everything is in a deeper sense than scientists look for a grand unified theory. It isn't just a grand unified theory of physics. That's one kind of answer to why everything is.

Lorenzo Albacete: Because the question of why, the existential question, doesn't pertain to science. I don't want my scientists to sit around and worry about the why of the universe. I want them to find out what the heck is going on even... But I want to make sure that they follow certain paths finding out what's going on. I want to know what's going on inside that house next door I could just sneak through the window and find out although I shouldn't. There are ways. But I want... anyway, the point is science has to proceed according to certain standards. Results should be measurable. You should be able to express it in an equation. All of these standards. And that's fine. But that cannot apply to all of our experience of life. You know, if you fall in love and you want to send a little note to the person you love you don't send an equation. I mean, usually perhaps you might send a silly stupid poem or a beautiful poem.

0:20:27

Wright: There's a point you make in the book in kind of making this distinction between the merely material conception of life and things like love. You say we can trace feelings of love to the brain but nobody ever says "My brain loves your brain." What do you mean...what's the exact point your making there?

Lorenzo Albacete: The point that there is --- this is very important because it is I mean we are circling the decisive question today really I mean... nothing compares to this question because it defines what is a human being. What I meant to say is that there are... when you talk you have some kind of experience that makes you say something. It's good to explore that. Study what you mean when you say this. I'm trying to say there are perhaps two, maybe more, various kinds of I's. When you say I something, that I, what does it stand for? What are you talking about? I'm trying to say... there is one I that can be completely explained in terms of brain functions. No problem with that, it satisfies it. There is an experience that I have, in reaction to it I say I and I can explain this with brain function. Fine. No problem. I'm saying that there are other experience when I say I in which the brain functions explanation is inadequate, it is not enough. Obviously it's there, I have to have a brain, there's not much on an I if I don't have a brain. So the mechanism is there. Science can study those how the brain works when you say I but it knows nothing about the experience you are having like when you say "I love you."

Wright: So subjective experience... consciousness is not directly amenable to science...

Lorenzo Albacete: It's not exhausted but it should be a scientific explanation.

Wright: And this is part of the mystery. I mean life would be less mysterious if it didn't feel like anything to be human...

Lorenzo Albacete: Again, if it could be reduced to an equation that would eventually describe the physical processes.

Wright: Right.

Lorenzo Albacete: Then fine, the mystery ceases and you got it.

0:23:04

Wright: Now in your book you also talk about sexual experience as, well I don't want to overstate it and say you're calling it a religious experience, but you almost are...

Lorenzo Albacete: Absolutely.

Wright: You're saying it's a way to make contact with the transcendent and for you the transcendent is a rough synonym for God so what do you... I mean this would surprise some people I think.

Lorenzo Albacete: Perhaps. I am one step removed Freudian in my thinking. That is to say, I think that sexual experience is decisive because... just looking at everything... if I land from Mars and examine this creature known as human being... I mean, what moves them? What moves them is this, essentially this desire for life... for life. But that's an abstraction. I don't know how to express it. I really have to put it in terms of the Bible. In the Bible in the book of Genesis human sexuality, which is the only sexuality mentioned, that of the animals and everything else is unimportant, they are just there to reproduce I guess, human sexuality is not only mentioned but highlighted because it is the only part where God has to do kind of like a repair job and realize he has to recreate the human creature to make it come out male and female. Why? Because in the human creature, sexuality appears as a response to the need to carry out the task of developing nature and creation. Of building a world that satisfy the desires of the heart. Again, at the root are those desires... you have a desire for something you try to construct it, you do everything, that is human beings do that. And then it says that the human creature, when sexuality wasn't a point, finds himself-herself unable to do this and the solution to this is sexuality. It means, to me, just reading the book of Genesis as a text written by Joe Schmo, not even as a revelation, just as a story that tells a message. It seems to me that whoever is responsible for that story thought of human sexuality as the most fundamental human way of fulfilling the impulse of the heart that I call religion. So, I think the two are very tight and I think sexual energy, the sexual quest is the first one of the first and most powerful expressions of the religious question. Some people reverse that and say the religious quest is an expression of the sexual quest. I would consider that too because they are so close but the religious quest, I fear, is much broader.

Wright: And how would you define exactly the elements that they have in common? I mean, intensity is one.

Lorenzo Albacete: Intensity yes. But also they are action movers. We build a world, we begin to play with our lives our surroundings everything to organize to build a culture, let me put it that way. They both generate cultures.

Wright: And of course there's some kinds of sex you would not put in this category. I mean, you're explicit in the book in saying that mere lust objectify the other person and so is not something ...

Lorenzo Albacete: Oh yes, I think that lust... mere lust... I was wondering what any other kind of lust would be? Mere lust I don't think has anything really, very little, to do with sex anyway. It's a question of perception and power.

Wright: It's not a form of communication?

Lorenzo Albacete: No. No communication or love or sex at all.

0:27:57

Wright: Now, a Darwinian might say, wait a second, you can speculate all you want about what sex is for and, in fact, you quote then Cardinal Ratzinger now the Pope...

Lorenzo Albacete: So that's what happened to him.

Wright: I can bring you up on new developments if you'd like ...

Lorenzo Albacete: I kept thinking, "Where is Georg?"

Wright: Now he's Pope. He says actually the purpose of sex, in the passage you quote, is to do something along the lines that we're talking about here. Now, a Darwinian might reply, "No, actually, you can speculate all you want but I know what the purpose of sex is. The purpose of sex is to get genes into the next generation. That's why sex is. In the Catholic church is generally known for having accepted Darwinism although that's maybe an issue...

Lorenzo Albacete: That was a false alarm.

Wright: Well we'll talk about that, but first how would you reconcile what this Darwinian says with what you're saying about the purpose of sex?

Lorenzo Albacete: I would say, I don't know anything about Darwinism scientifically. If you tell me that, well that's interesting, fascinating... I have no problem with that. But you are speaking about life as a Darwinian. If all you are, if all you are capable of knowing, of whatever fits within Darwinian scientific method, I have nothing... I accept what you say. But I would say how sorry. I mean, you are depriving yourself of experiences that are to me decisive human experiences.

Wright: Do you think Darwinism is true in so far...

Lorenzo Albacete: ...within it's scope...

Wright: But if those are the only questions you are asking...

Lorenzo Albacete: Exactly. Within it's scope. Again, fields of knowledge like that have to define their scope and their methodology and everything that doesn't fit is excluded. In Darwinism, in order to get biological results ... last night I found out that these huge swarms of ants all over the world and they started like in Argentina but if an Argentinian ant arrive at Paris it would recognize immediately the other ant and build together, they will not be antagonistic generations afterwards because of the continuity of that species. That's beautiful stuff. I love to see all of that. And if at that moment that is discovered by a method once you know what is the purpose of ants and why there are ants and why there is life to begin with... They will never find this. The price to have the progress in this way is to exclude from it certain things and I think as long as we are aware of what is being excluded, I have no problem. That's fine. That's the way it works. But, for life? When you take that from which you have excluded something and make that the norm of your I, of how you express yourself, of how you see life, I think that is a very tragic narrowing of horizons at least...

0:31:35

Wright: Ok and this does bring us this controversy over what the church in fact ... the connection with Darwinism. An influential Cardinal not too long ago in the New York Times seemed to back track on the traditional seeming position of the Catholic church and said ...and seemed to be you know taking issue with conventional Darwinism, that is the idea that evolution happens through the selective retention of randomly generate traits. As I understood it, and he was a little vague, but as I understood it he was not happy with that model of how evolution happens. Right?

Lorenzo Albacete: Well I read it and I know the man very well, he's a friend of mine. I haven't called him up or anything to find out ... I have written Op Eds for the Times and you always want to say more, to explain, etc.

Wright: But what do you think he was getting at?

Lorenzo Albacete: I think his concern is the concern we have just expressed. The problem isn't Darwinism or Neo- or Neo-neo-Darwinism as a proposal for the scientific explanation of life. The problem is Darwinism or any -ism -- Creationism for that matter -- as an ideology, that is to say, as a scientific method that accounts for all human experiences. And to me that, the church, after the Galileo scare and things like that, when the evolution thing came up the was caution on how to deal with this so we wouldn't be embarrassed like before and I think that continues. It's outrageous. I know this Cardinal, I know Ratzinger. These are people who are not sitting there saying that you know evolutionary biology or biology or whatever their science is in this case has to you know accept direct creation or whatever it is. This is just not a Catholic thing. I am interested though in why this was said at the present time. In a sense it was a repetition of what the church has always held. As a scientific reality proposal, let science decide it, with it's own methods and by it's own peers. As an ideology that is to say, as a proposal for organizing one's life in all it's dimensions, then we have something to say. We cannot accept that.

Wright: Ok but why can't it be the case... you said you object when people say Darwinism can account for everything. Why can't it be the case that Darwinism can in some sense account for everything but it's not the final account... in other words to look at the example of sex again. Yes the function of sex, the reason in material terms that sex exists is because it was good at getting genes...

Lorenzo Albacete: Yes yes yes.

Wright: ... but maybe the Creator of natural selection had something larger in mind ...

Lorenzo Albacete: I have no problem with that, I would just say the word I would like to use is ... it accounts and maybe it will not, no, I think it accounts for everything within it's own sphere and that remains true if I come up with something that seems to contradict the verifiable without the sphere of science within the sphere of science then I have a problem.

Wright: Right.

Lorenzo Albacete: I mean, the faith proposal. I cannot only have to say "There is meaning in the universe. Everywhere. Everything points to the mystic." This is my proposal. Now if that proposal makes impossible or rules out a scientific discovery that is verifiable in it's own terms, I'm prepared to abandon it. Of course, this is absurd.

Wright: Well I mean if your position is that, yes natural selection is the immediate explanation for the human experience...

Lorenzo Albacete: As far as that science goes in it's own terms...

Wright: But natural selection is itself subordinate to some larger purpose that is less immediately evident than ... to me that's...

Lorenzo Albacete: How do I know that?

Wright: Right. That's my question...

Lorenzo Albacete: ... I ask myself, "Is natural selection, as I best understand it, or these guys tell me and they'll tell me, I don't have this background, I have to accept the fact that this is a (()) intelligent people. Although they are people they are affected by politics and ideology as anybody else. I was one of them so I know that very well. On the other hand, you got what you got. My question is: Does this account, does if fulfill, does it account, does it correspond to my experience of life? That's what I want to deal with I don't want to compare it directly to something somebody tells me about God. I want to compare it to myself... because I want to embrace what somebody tells me about God because it does correspond. The moment it stops accounting for my experiences I will leave it. Why not? It would be absurd...a completely alienated creature walking around as a contradiction of ... you stop believing..embrace that which accounts for the experience of your heart but do that in a reasonable way. That's all I advise. Even in matters of faith, even later when you come to actual doctrines of Christianity or even doctrines of Catholicism. The Church cannot get away by simply telling you "This is it and shut up." It has to invite you to verify it.

0:37:50

Wright: What's a good example of an experience that you just ... that Darwinism isn't enough just to either account for ...

Lorenzo Albacete: When I say to someone, "I love you."

Wright: Okay, now you can understand how a Darwinian can say, "Look, falling in love is the first step to sex. Sex gets you ..."

Lorenzo Albacete: I agree, fine.

Wright: So, but in what sense...

Lorenzo Albacete: But when I say to someone "I love you" is this what I am saying? I am saying this is I feel this attraction to continue the species through this... that's not what you are saying it is...

Wright: It's not what you're saying but it could still be the reason you feel what you feel, right?

Lorenzo Albacete: It is not the reason I am saying what I am saying. It is not. I give you the example of the pathologist who goes after work -- I can never understand how a pathologist could lie down with his woman or her man or his man, whatever, because I mean you would be thinking ... Oh my God, I know what's inside... it just destroys the whole damn thing. Police people, for example, are always seeing potential criminals. I wonder if pathologists are always seeing potential dead bodies for autopsies where you can take things... if that is so then you've got a real problem.

Wright: You're saying that... if you take your work home with you... if even a Darwinian takes his/her work home it would deprive life of meaning.

Lorenzo Albacete: And the fact is, the Darwinian, sooner or later, would contradict his position that neo-Darwinism or whatever explains everything because the Darwinians, in their lives, they do not act like that. I even quote Singer in the "Feast of Reason" ... all his life And this is what he holds... everything can be explained this way. But yet certainly at the end he begins to feel a responsibility towards the new generations to educate him in a particular way because he begins to have thoughts which contradict what he has just said, that there is no meaning in the universe inherent in it... usually happens when you get old enough. My friend over here at Colombia, Bob who wrote "The Biology of Faith"...

Wright: Bob Pollack?

Wright: Yes. He admits it. He said, "...at a certain point I realize that my scientific conviction" -- to which he adheres -- "do not explain all of my life." My problem with him was that he says the reason doesn't explain it so one must somehow go into the unreasonable. I don't think so. I think one must somehow expand what reason means beyond scientific reasoning. Scientific reason is a form of reasoning.

0:41:15

Wright: My position, not that you asked, is that Darwinism can account for everything in the history of human experience in the history of organic life broadly speaking at least but that some of these features suggest that the Darwinian machine was set in motion with larger purposes in mind. It's not that there's a part of my life that just couldn't make sense as an ultimate result of natural selection, it's that life in various senses too interesting or that evolution by natural selection has too much direction or even the kind of moral direction in history we were talking about.. too much that is suggestive that there is a larger story unfolding, even if the machine that's driving it is natural selection it's just that I don't think it's the end ...

Lorenzo Albacete: I don't have a problem with that. My only concern is that I get nervous when science starts telling me the larger story.

Wright: The largest part of this story, maybe one level removed. Science is suggestive of the existence of that but is not equipped to unravel it.

Lorenzo Albacete: Again, it means how one defines the science. Any contact we have with reality will immediately suggest... will evoke And in some way launch you in a quest for meaning And purpose... any contact. Seeing this... I may or may not mention it in the book... there is a man... the man who found the movement that I follow ... he was saying "Just imagine if you were born with all your mental capacities that you have now." I mean, a baby is born, that's that. But here you would have all the mental capacities. When you were born, what would strike you the most? What would strike you the most is other things. A mountain. A pencil. And so, once it strikes you, the next step is "Where did it come from?" And the next And the next And the next. So striking with reality always launches you. You may crash, you may run out of energy, you may, in the end, whatever ... Darwinism, as a scientific proposal, it is my opinion, it will suggest just as any reality does...but I get kind of nervous when somehow or other that suggestion has to itself be taken out from experimental results. I worry that that is a violation of scientific rules just as I would worry if science starts moving into other areas, other ways of knowing. In the end there is only one of us. That is to say, it isn't that there are three people ... the scientist, the religious person... that's split. That is why I think the religious impulse is in fact the impulse making science possible. I think a scientific quest is an expression of a quest...

0:45:18

Wright: ...of wanting to make sense of things. Let me ask you a related question, I gather you somewhat sign on to the kind of language I'm using, I mean the idea that if natural selection is the immediate explanation for organic life including humans then for a religious person, natural selection must have itself been set in motion with some larger purpose in mind.

Lorenzo Albacete: It's within a larger...

Wright: Then you would expect natural selection to have some features that embody those larger purposes, right? I mean, or the direction of evolution to have some features... Do you see products of evolution or that are suggestive of this larger purpose?

Lorenzo Albacete: I don't know. I know there is a difference... people think this way And they try to actually construct some kind of evolutionary direction. Things like intelligent design And all of that ... I don't know enough about it. It doesn't bother me. If it were to show no particular direction it wouldn't bother me at all.

Wright: It could also have a direction...

Lorenzo Albacete: If it does, that's nice.

Wright: But it could have a direction towards intelligence through convention Darwinian mechanism. That doesn't involve the intelligent design stuff...

Lorenzo Albacete: Sometimes you wonder how certain solutions were embraced... seem to be set backs but I have no problem with that. What do I know?

Wright: As a related question, not about the direction of evolution but about the direction of history, you write in your book that human beings do subdue And develop nature not only in order to build a world responsive to our material needs but also to build a world responsive to our need for the infinite. There's a task we were given at the beginning by God, having to do with the kind of world we're supposed to build. One question is, how are we doing?

Lorenzo Albacete: How are we doing? I would say it varies. Ask me tomorrow I will have another answer but for the moment right now I'm kind of grading the whole effort with a C+.

Wright: What kind of things do you think we should ... what were we supposed to do?

Lorenzo Albacete: It's funny because, going back to Flannery O'Connor, And I mentioned it there, she says "today we feel more but see less." This is what is interesting. I think, this is outrageous ... but history is like a BBC lecture. You've seen the progress, the moral progress in sensitivities. There is progress to me in sensitivities And recognition towards you know dialogue, peace, etc. etc. interrupted many times by the total collapse And set backs but somehow, after long processes, things kind of stay in... that is to say, even the phenomenon like political correctness is an expression of that. There are certain things you don't say anymore And certain things you just cannot do.

0:48:41

Wright: We were talking about the direction of history And you were saying...

Lorenzo Albacete: The achievements, yes. I would say, myself, if I look at that I have to admit that there have been, in human history, achievements... ethical achievements... first of all there have certainly been achievements in our ability to decipher nature, to understand nature And then second I think ... And to control it, to guide it in a direct natural process, the direction of an improvement of life. That's there. There have been improvements in sensitivity to certain realities that before we could not see but now can see. We are horrified by certain things that before did not horrify even great saints And moral people before. I see this as a direction that's there. I cannot see how it's undeniable. I have no desire to go back to a past And expose myself to it's ethical considerations, are you kidding? If anything, I would like to move on to improve to increase this sensitivity.

Wright: You see this in The Bible, right?

Lorenzo Albacete: Oh yes.

Wright: If you look at Deuteronomy, you see things that are (()) by God, encouraged by God...

Lorenzo Albacete: Hurling babies against the way...

Wright: ...that are abhorrent to a modern sensibility.

Lorenzo Albacete: Rightly so. In fact I once read a study on the conception of adultery in the Bible And at the beginning it is forbidden because women are property. Adultery is just another form of stealing your horse or your house. It is not an offense against the person And the dignity of the person. But you could see through the prophetic words And see this moral awareness growing And this why it is said that the whole Bible can be seen as an educational process.

Wright: Whose getting educated?

Lorenzo Albacete: The human heart. The humaneness...

Wright: But it's almost as if God Himself...

Lorenzo Albacete: Well ... He's educating our ideas of God.

Wright: Right.

Lorenzo Albacete: And He has to use whatever ideas are there because, remember, what is being educated -- you asked a good question -- is our freedom. And so, therefore, if you are going to freely move from one step to the next step you know you have to work with what you have. I can just see how God, among the objects of his desire would be to purify our idea of God because there is, remember, this other aspect to it And this is the great mystery which -- for lack of a better term -- but it's out there And you just can't ignore it... Christianity doesn't make sense without it ... is the mystery of original sin. Namely, there is another direction or -- yes, original sin often would require that there be another direction, almost opposite to the one that we have just traced, towards the direction of selfishness And pride And lived out not just in theory but lived out in my relations with other people And with nature And so forth... even the idea of God, even the knowledge of God is used in that direction too. In the name of God I kill other people. In the name of God I become intolerant. And the more I know about awesomeness of God And the truth of God the more intolerant I get.

0:52:49

Wright: Let me see if I correctly understand something you were saying just now. In some parts of the Bible, presumably parts that were written earlier than others, God Himself is depicted in a way that most of us would find morally repugnant.

Lorenzo Albacete: Yes.

Wright: He says, "Go slaughter the entire city ... wipe out every living thing..." Because their beliefs would be a threat to the Israelites beliefs ...

Lorenzo Albacete: Right right.

Wright: Now, are you saying that that ... of course if a premise of Christianity is that the scriptures are divinely inspired then you have to somehow account for this. Are you saying then, In a certain sense, God is at that point speaking to people in a language they will understand. In other words He can only go so far to enlighten people at a given stage And what seems to us like a morally primitive phase is just an example of him working within the constraints of that time...

Lorenzo Albacete: I'll settle for that because I don't think it's as neat as God sitting there And saying, "Well, let me see... morality 101: the lesson today... I don't know a damn thing about tolerance. I've got to let them kill each other And maybe send someone to suggest..." I don't know that there is God And then there is us. I think that God works through us, through our reason And our hearts And our intelligence, our ability... this is how the Bible is of divine inspiration but it is not dictated in anyway... it's like a scrapbook, accounts here And there... what do they have in common? They have in common the history, the experience of particular concrete people, what we call in the Old Testament is one people And it's history. History of what? ...of it's understanding of And reaction to the mystery. At any one time, as you would have to do today, if you took a flash at a particular year in this history you will find some people more advanced, some people more behind ethically, as well as in other areas. There are many theologies of God in the Bible. If you set one against the other you can say "What's the real Biblical one?" That's why one is not a fundamentalist, to read this thing as if it were a text... You find conflict, you find contradictions. What they have in common is a history of a people And now you can look back And see if there is any direction in the sensitivity of this people as time passes And I believe you find it all the time...

Wright: And in the history of other peoples as well...

Lorenzo Albacete: Absolutely.

Wright: All this together raises for me the question of particular revelations being uniquely privileged, that is the revelation to Abraham, as opposed to the idea that history itself is a kind of revelation And you see this among Buddhists And Hindus And so on... It seems to me, right now in the modern world, this is a very important question because the idea of privileged revelation is the source of a certain amount of intolerance as you were saying...

Lorenzo Albacete: ... do we have another two hours? This, in my opinion, is one of the questions of today. I do not treat it in the book really And require another book And I may be working on it... because this is what is really interesting. We see as contradictory the particular revelation to one particular person or people or whatever And openness to all manifestations of the human search And, in my opinion, that I find an understandable concern, a valid one And one that one should be present there... in so much that I would say in concrete cases to the degree that in the name of a privileged revelation certain actions are proposed, recommended, or approved or for that matter rejected that are not actions that open us rather than narrow our consciousness And our sensitivity then I think that privileged revelation should be rejected as intolerant. On the other hand, I can see -- again, the principle we talked about before -- God works through what's there, I can see that in normal life the way human beings progress or are educated is always very concrete... a teacher... a Martin Luther King comes. He does not have a privileged revelation but this is very personalized. This guy is there ahead of the people And he teaches a people. That is to say, this seems to be -- to me -- the way human beings are educated And live together by means of these leaders that appear here And there... that is so, in a non-religious way. And in sense it has to be this way because there are so many things to learn that science, economics, ethics, politics... noone is an expert on all of these things. It has to be this way. I can see that. That one would use this method -- the method of preference election or particularity in order to convey whatever it is he wants to convey to us doesn't worry me. I don't think it is necessarily conflicting with what we want which is humanity.

0:59:56

Wright: But is it a problem for you if we put Jesus in that category?

Lorenzo Albacete: No, I believe Jesus to be the teacher...

Wright: To be that teacher....

Lorenzo Albacete: To be that teacher of humanity, to be the savior of humanity. All of humanity.

Wright: ...the savior?

Lorenzo Albacete: THE savior.

Wright: Martin Luther King or Gandhi ... you would be willing to say maybe, tell me if I'm wrong, is a particularly exemplary And kind of enlightened manifestation of the process of history as revelation. In other words, some particular people embody history as revelation because they're kind of ahead of the curve And they carry things further ... but you can't be willing as a matter of doctrine to put Jesus in that category.

Lorenzo Albacete: No.

Wright: ... And that's where it seems to me...

Lorenzo Albacete: Because ... I am assuming that this is somehow originating in the reality I am calling the mystery. This is the reality that is behind the human heart wherever it is. All human beings search this mystery, the human heart.. what unites us is that. No matter religious beliefs... even if you are a criminal, you are responding to needs of the human heart. This is what we have in common. The religious proposal says, at the heart of it all, at the origin of this is the mystery which you can call God, the Creator, (()) the great lizard... whatever you want to call it, okay? Now, the question is, this reality I believe educates us, educates our freedom just as you ... what does revelation mean? What does God reveal? He reveals Himself. That is to say, it is as if you let another person, someone you love, you reveal yourself to that person And you have to work with what's there, through a person's interests, etc. Now, my point is, this God follows this educational method of selecting all of these people. But, as a Christian -- And this is what makes me a Christian -- I come to believe that the concretization of all of this... that at one point the manifestation of the mystery, not just of any other teacher of the mystery as authentic as they may be, but of the mystery itself is the person of Jesus of Nazareth. This is what I hold as a Christian. I don't think this closes me ... I say, "that's it, those who do not accept Jesus are done." No. "Those that do not accept Jesus should be excluded." Of course not. To me, the purpose of Jesus is precisely to move us to the next stage which is all embracing.

Wright: But didn't Paul say in the Bible that you do have to believe that Jesus is the son of God to be saved?

Lorenzo Albacete: Yes... but then I don't read the Bible that way. I read Paul in it's context in whatever he was dealing with in his own because ... "You're right Paul, no problem. Look I'll sign on to anything but you now explain to me, what do you mean by believe that Jesus is the son of God? Recite the creed? What if you've never heard of Jesus?

Wright: To me it would mean believing that he has completely unique status among people who have appeared on the planet And is not just like the Buddha in being particularly enlightened but has a completely unique connection to the divine.

Lorenzo Albacete: If you have heard of him, he has a completely unique connection, as much as this claim has been made of him. It may have been a misunderstanding but it's pretty unique because Christianity is the only one that makes this claim of any man.

Wright: So you believe that a Buddhist can be saved, can have salvation, the afterlife that a Christian has...

Lorenzo Albacete: Probably faster than I would.

Wright: And what about an atheist?

Lorenzo Albacete: Oh yes, faster than I would in all probability...

Wright: What would an atheist have to do to get into Heaven?

Lorenzo Albacete: Even St. Thomas Aquinas would say "Follow his or her conscience." Be honest to your heart.

Wright: But clear moral...

Lorenzo Albacete: Yes but it's not the morality that gains you heaven. It's not because an atheist does good things. It is the heart that gets you there. This is very important. Even for the Christian, a Christian can fulfill every damn moral law there is And end up in hell. This is a doctrine of the church. It's not what you do, it is your stand in respect to otherness. It is your conscience. I don't know a more beautiful expression in this than the work of Levinas, who is not a Christian. He talks about the moral challenge to you by the face of an other. It's your ability to see And respond to this otherness of the other in a way that gives yourself to them...

Wright: It isn't just being nice to people, it's being nice to people out of conviction And understanding ...

Lorenzo Albacete: Which doesn't even have to be formulated in the mind.

Wright: But at some level, either conscious or unconscious, there has to an apprehension that love is moral truth...

Lorenzo Albacete: Love is truth. Being is love which is the reason why for the mystery of the trinity... that's what it means anyway... And between truth And love they are two names of the same reality. Truth that inspires you to do violence to the dignity of another person, including their religious consciousness or vices, etc. that is not truth. You are being guided by something horrible, a monstrous distortion of the truth which is the other energy... whether you want to call it Satanic, original sin... this is the distortion, it's the very negative of the truth.

1:06:31

Wright: As a matter of fact, you've just expressed a very liberal salvation doctrine... inclusive And modern...

Lorenzo Albacete: I think you could look it up And read in Pope John Paul II, the redeemer of man, Second Vatican Council ... I can give you many references... the cataclysm of the church...

Wright: Is that the Catholic position that a Buddhist or an atheist can go to Heaven?

Lorenzo Albacete: Yes. Sure.

Wright: There are a lot of Protestant denominations that aren't saying that...

Lorenzo Albacete: That's right.. I respect that. We do not say that. In the mass in the fourth Eucharistic prayer of the mass, we pray for those who seek you -- we are praying to God -- for those who seek you with a sincere heart. We are praying as much for them as we are for the Pope, the bishop, the church, etc.

Wright: So ultimately yours is ...

Lorenzo Albacete: I don't think I'm being a liberal Catholic. That is the doctrine of the church.

Wright: Ok but it's more liberal than some Christians.

Lorenzo Albacete: I know ... to use that word, I suppose I accept it.

Wright: And it's not a particularist doctrine of salvation... would you agree with me that ... maybe somewhat particularist in terms of revelation, depending on...

Lorenzo Albacete: It is not particularist in the sense that you mean particulars. It is universal... the word Catholic means universal... but I don't think that there is a conflict between the particular And the universal.

Wright: And do you agree that, for the purposes of the salvation of the world in the mundane sense of salvation that is the world's survival in good shape, there needs to be a movement towards universalism on the part of those people that remain intensely particularistic.

Lorenzo Albacete: I think that particularism itself will move in that direction.

Wright: And that would be part of the progress of history that you talked about...

Lorenzo Albacete: It is the dynamics of love. In the marriage rite, at the end of the wedding, you chose among final blessings, there is a blessing that I like to chose because it is very awesome And it says to the couple, "Now that you have" --- more or less this way --- "particularized your love to such an extent, one person forever, etc. mutually, follow the dynamics of this love as it opens you up to other people especially the poor And the needy in the world because some day they will be your judges. That is to say, the openness to the responsibility for the poor, justice And charity is seen in this prayer as inherent in the very particularity of the love between the husband And the wife... I don't want to open another can of worms but this is part of the concern about contraception, about the refusal to have children because as the first opening up of that exclusive love... please, let's not discuss this but I'm trying to say, look, don't not talk about methods or means just look at the dynamics of a thing. Love has a certain dynamics to it. It's very particularization broadens it... it's always all embracing...

1:10:23

Wright: We shouldn't get off on this tangent but the puzzle to me has always been if the problem of contraception is refusing to share your life with the people who would be born of sex, well there are all kinds of ways to avoid having children ...

Lorenzo Albacete: But the church, when it talks about method, approves natural family planning methods but warns that they may be used sinfully. That part is not... what I want to see is we are all involved in trying to figure something out. All of us... Buddhists, atheists, un-believes, Catholics, Protestants... all of us. We're trying to figure out what it means to be alive, to deal with the circumstances of our lives, with reality in, I hope, two ways: a satisfactory way And fulfilling way... the pursuit of happiness it is called... And in a responsible way because even St. Augustine ... even the thief And the crook has honesty. We're all trying to do that. In so doing, certain questions keep coming back And I believe that the question of the need for universality is the direction to go. It's all embracing And more. In fact we want more And more And more... more justice, more inclusivity, bring more people in, the direction of more is the human direction...

Wright: It seems to me ... if you want to look at aspects of history that are arguably manifestations of some larger purpose, one interesting thing is history seems to have been moving to this point where either humanity makes a moral breakthrough or ...

Lorenzo Albacete: ... it destroy itself.... because of the other direction, exactly. In that context, as a follower of Christ And believing he And only he is the center of history And the universe, I do not find this particularity not only not conflicting with my desire to open to every manifestation of the human but it even animates it... it is the source of it for me.

Wright: It follows that you would say that there are Hindus who are worshiping their gods in a manner that you respect in the sense that the values that inform their worship are the values that you respect as a Christian And you would say that in a sense when they're worshiping their gods, their worshiping your God?

Lorenzo Albacete: Yes they are.

Wright: The term used sometimes here is the "godhead."

Lorenzo Albacete: I don't think they're just worshiping a god, I think they are following Jesus Christ, a man.

Wright: Even though they don't ...

Lorenzo Albacete: ... don't know who he is And what they may know is what they know...

Wright: And you don't feel it necessary to inform them that that's ...

Lorenzo Albacete: I would love to in the context of a discussion with mutual respect... I would propose it... I have no problem with it. Why would it be wrong? If I come with any threat or suggestion of a powerfully imposing this on them or it's consequences on it's culture or something like that, then I am against it... but proposing it? You take the woman you love to meet everyone at the office...

Wright: But if you were say Buddhist And you said "Wait a second, I think the Buddha is the genuine article" And you compare what the Buddha did to what Christ did...

Lorenzo Albacete: Well that's fine we disagree but you like coffee... we disagree...

Wright: That's a superficial disagreement in a sense.

Lorenzo Albacete: It's a disagreement that comes from the fact that this person does not have Christian faith And I don't control that And to me the purpose of Christ is universal. I don't have to design how to live that I just rejoice And follow what I have discovered... I offer it to the people... if they accept it, fine; if not, they are not my enemy... It's going to be like this because even in Christ's own life, even among those circles that he attracted, he attracted hostility, he attracted curiosity, he attracted admiration And he attracted folly. I don't see why we have to expect anything different... I leave that to the mystery... I would like all to believe in Christ...

Wright: The salvation of the world doesn't depend on that, the salvation of the world depends on an imbibing the spirit...

Lorenzo Albacete: Exactly. Salvation comes from their open... I think the person of Christ is (()) for them... that is to say, even without their knowing it... it creates a certain energy ... what I wanted to say is that what it requires is not moral achievement but ... what is the beatitude? Blessed are the pure of heart because they shall see God... Words of Jesus himself. So what it requires is purity of heart... you figure that out... and in the end one must go to the movies. We do not live for thinking about these things all the time. We have to... but we live for the movies, to build, to have a good time, to get to know other people... you understand what I mean? That is life. The man I follow said here in New York 1986 came back from a press conference -- he was walking out and then he came back -- and said "I have one more thing to say, maybe this will explain... I do not love humanity because I love Christ. I love Christ because I love humanity." I hold that.

Wright: In other words his fundamental insight he had to some extent derived from experience...

Lorenzo Albacete: For that passion for the human, for the excitement of human life present in spite of it's horrors and negative challenges and everything... He turns to Christ because he makes sense of this. He doesn't turn to Christ and then imposed a sense of what he does...

Wright: And it's not just in the divine revelation imposed on him...

Lorenzo Albacete: No exactly.... he finds it rather figure it out. The word he uses is it corresponds with the desires of your heart so you say yes to it. If it didn't, you are out of your mind to continue... you are crazy, that's like self-hatred of some kind... And in our movement that I am responsible for in the United States, we follow that method... we are people who are not believers... one young woman came to see me just last month, she's Jewish... but then she said, "You people have this thing that fulfills you, it is Christ. Who is my Christ?" And I said, "You go and be the best Jew you can. Don't even worry about Christ. That's us, we travel his path..." And I have given that advice to non-believers. Be faithful to your atheist. See where it leads you. I have total confidence that it will lead them to the mystery because I think we are structured that way.

Wright: Thanks a lot. This has been great.

Three temptations

2010-02-22T08:36:00.000-08:00

Temptation in the Wilderness, by Briton Riviere

VATICAN CITY, FEB. 21, 2010.- Here is a translation of the address Benedict XVI gave today before and after praying the midday Angelus with those gathered in St. Peter's Square.

* * *

Dear Brothers and Sisters!

Last Wednesday, with the penitential rite of the ashes, we began Lent, a time of spiritual renewal in preparation for the annual celebration of Easter. But what does it mean to enter into the Lenten journey?

The Gospel of this First Sunday of Lent illustrates it, with the account of Jesus’ temptation in the desert. The evangelist St. Luke tells us that Jesus, after having received baptism from John, “full of the Holy Spirit, left the Jordan and was led by the Holy Spirit into the desert for 40 days and was tempted by the devil” (Luke 4:1-2). It is evident that there is an insistence on the fact that the temptations were no accident but the consequence of Jesus’ choice to carry out the mission entrusted to him by the Father, to embrace completely his reality as beloved Son, who hands himself over entirely to the Father. Christ came into the world to free us from sin and the dangerous fascination of planning our lives without God. He did it not with high-sounding proclamations, but by personally struggling against the Tempter, right to the cross. This is an example for all: The world improves beginning with ourselves, changing what is not right in our lives with the grace of God.

Of the three temptations that Satan proposes to Jesus, the first has to do with hunger, that is, material need: “If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become bread.” But Jesus answers with sacred Scripture: “One does not live on bread alone” (Luke 4:3-4; cf. Deuteronomy 8:3).

Then the devil shows all the kingdoms of the earth to Jesus and says: All this will be yours, if you will fall down and worship me. It is the deception of power, and Jesus unmasks this temptation and rejects it: “You shall worship the Lord, your God, and him alone shall you serve” (Luke 4:5-8; Deuteronomy 6:13). Power is not to be worshiped but God alone, truth and love.

Finally, the Tempter proposes that Jesus perform a spectacular miracle: He should throw himself from the high walls of the Temple and make the angels save him so that everyone would believe in him. But Jesus answers that God must never be put to the test (cf. Deuteronomy 6:16). We must never try an experiment in which God is supposed to respond and show himself to be God: we must believe in him! We must not make God “material” for our “experiment”! Referring again to sacred Scripture, Jesus opposes to human criterion the only authentic criterion: obedience, conformity with God’s will, which is the foundation of our being. This too is a basic teaching for us: If we carry the Word of God in our heart and in our mind, if it enters into our lives, if we have confidence in God, we can reject any sort of deception of the Tempter. Moreover, from the whole story there clearly emerges the image of Christ as the new Adam, Son of God, humble and obedient to the Father, unlike Adam and Eve, who in the Garden of Eden gave in to the seductions of the spirit of evil to become immortal without God.

Lent is a long “retreat,” during which we return to ourselves and listen to God’s voice to overcome the temptations of the Evil One and find the truth of our being. It is a time, we could say, of spiritual “contest” to live together with Jesus, not with pride and presumption, but using the weapons of faith, that is, prayer, listening to God’s Word and penance. In this way we will be able to celebrate Easter in truth, ready to renew the promises of our baptism. May the Virgin Mary help us so that, guided by the Holy Spirit, we live this time of grace with joy and fruit. May she especially intercede for me and my co-workers in the Roman Curia since this evening we will begin our retreat.

[Translation by Joseph G. Trabbic]

reprinted from Zenit

"I do not want you to die, but that you live"

2010-02-19T08:57:00.000-08:00

ROME, FEB. 18, 2010.- Here is a translation of the homily delivered Wednesday by Benedict XVI during the celebration of the Mass of Imposition of Ashes in the Basilica of St. Sabina on the Aventine Hill.

* * *

"You love all creatures, Lord,
And do not loath anything you have made;
You forget the sins of those who convert and forgive them,
Because you are the Lord our God" (Entrance Antiphon)

Venerated Brothers in the Episcopate,
Dear Brothers and Sisters,

With this moving invocation, taken from the Book of Wisdom (cf 11:23-26), the liturgy introduces the Eucharistic celebration of Ash Wednesday. They are words that, in some way, open the whole Lenten journey, placing as their foundation the omnipotence of the love of God, his absolute lordship over every creature, which is translated in infinite indulgence, animated by a constant and universal will to live. In fact, to forgive someone is equivalent to saying: I do not want you to die, but that you live; I always and only want your good.

This absolute certainty sustained Jesus during the 40 days transpired in the desert of Judea, after the baptism received from John in the Jordan. This long time of silence and fasting was for him a complete abandonment to the Father and to his plan of love; it was a "baptism," that is, an "immersion" in his will, and in this sense, an anticipation of the Passion and the Cross. To go into the desert and to stay there a long time, alone, meant to be willingly exposed to the assaults of the enemy, the tempter who made Adam fall and through whose envy death entered the world (cf Wisdom 2:24); it meant engaging in open battle with him, defying him with no other weapons than limitless confidence in the omnipotent love of the Father. Your love suffices me, my food is to do your will (cf John 4:34): This conviction dwelt in the mind and heart of Jesus during that "Lent" of his. It was not an act of pride, a titanic enterprise, but a decision of humility, consistent with the Incarnation and the Baptism in the Jordan, in the same line of obedience to the merciful love of the Father, who "so loved the world that he gave his only Son" (John 3:16).

The Lord did all this for us. He did it to save us and, at the same time, to show us the way to follow him. Salvation, in fact, is a gift, it is God's grace, but to have effect in my existence it requires my consent, an acceptance demonstrated in deeds, that is, in the will to live like Jesus, to walk after him. To follow Jesus in the Lenten desert is, hence, the condition necessary to participate in his Easter, in his "exodus." Adam was expelled from the earthly Paradise, symbol of communion with God; now, to return to that communion and, therefore, to true life, it is necessary to traverse the desert, the test of faith. Not alone, but with Jesus! He -- as always -- has preceded us and has already conquered in the battle against the spirit of evil. This is the meaning of Lent, liturgical time that every year invites us to renew the choice to follow Christ on the path of humility to participate in his victory over sin and death.

Understood in this perspective also is the penitential sign of the ashes, which are imposed on the head of those who begin with good will the Lenten journey. It is essentially a gesture of humility, which means: I recognize myself for what I am, a frail creature, made of earth and destined to the earth, but also made in the image of God and destined to him. Dust, yes, but loved, molded by love, animated by his vital breath, capable of recognizing his voice and of responding to him; free and, because of this, also capable of disobeying him, yielding to the temptation of pride and self-sufficiency. This is sin, the mortal sickness that soon entered to contaminate the blessed earth that is the human being. Created in the image of the Holy and Righteous One, man lost his own innocence and he can now return to be righteous only thanks to the righteousness of God, the righteousness of love that -- as St. Paul writes -- was manifested "through faith in Jesus Christ" (Romans 3:22). From these words of the Apostle I took my inspiration for my Message, addressed to all the faithful on the occasion of this Lent: a reflection on the theme of righteousness in the light of the Sacred Scriptures and of its fulfillment in Christ.

Also very present in the biblical readings of Ash Wednesday is the theme of righteousness. First of all, the page of the prophet Joel and the Responsorial Psalm -- the Miserere -- form a penitential diptych, which manifests how at the origin of all material and social injustice is what the Bible calls "iniquity," that is, sin, which consists essentially in a disobedience to God, namely, a lack of love. "For I know my transgressions, / and my sin is ever before me. / Against thee, thee only, have I sinned, / and done that which is evil in thy sight" (Psalm 51 (50): 3-4). The first act of righteousness, therefore, is to recognize one's own iniquity, it is to recognize that it is rooted in the "heart," in the very center of the human person. "Fasting," "weeping", "mourning" (cf. Joel 2:12) and every penitential expression has value in the eyes of God only if it is the sign of truly repentant hearts. Also the Gospel, taken from the "Sermon on the Mount," insists on the need to practice proper "righteousness" -- almsgiving, prayer and fasting -- not before men but only in the eyes of God, who "sees in secret" (cf Matthew 6:1-6.16-18). The true "recompense" is not others' admiration, but friendship with God and the grace that derives from it, a grace that gives strength to do good, to love also the one who does not deserve it, to forgive those who have offended us.

The second reading, Paul's appeal to allow ourselves to be reconciled with God (cf 2 Corinthians 5:20), contains one of the famous Pauline paradoxes, which redirects the whole reflection on righteousness to the mystery of Christ. St. Paul writes: "For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God" (2 Corinthians 5:21). In the heart of Christ, that is, in the center of his divine-human Person, the whole drama of liberty was at stake in decisive and definitive terms. God took to the extreme consequences his own plan of salvation, remaining faithful to his love even at the cost of giving his Only-begotten Son to death, and to death on a cross. As I wrote in the Lenten Message, "here divine righteousness is revealed, profoundly different from the human. [...] Thanks to Christ's action, we can enter the 'greatest' righteousness, which is that of love (cf Romans 13:8-10)."

Dear brothers and sisters, Lent lengthens our horizon, it orients us to eternal life. On this earth we are on pilgrimage, "[f]or here we have no lasting city, but we seek the city which is to come," says the Letter to the Hebrews (Hebrews 13:14). Lent makes us understand the relativity of the goods of this earth and thus makes us capable of the necessary self-denials, free to do good. Let us open the earth to the light of heaven, to the presence of God in our midst. Amen.

reprinted from Zenit

Pope's Lectio Divina on the True Vine

2010-02-18T11:24:00.000-08:00

VATICAN CITY, FEB. 19, 2010.- Here is the address Benedict XVI delivered Feb. 12 upon visiting the Roman Major Seminary on the feast of Our Lady of Trust.

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Your Eminence,
Your Excellencies,
Dear Friends,

Every year it is a great joy to me to be with the seminarians of the Diocese of Rome, young men who are preparing themselves to respond to the Lord's call to be labourers in his vineyard and priests of his mystery. This is the joy of seeing that the Church lives, that the Church's future is also present in our region and, precisely, also in Rome.

In this Year for Priests let us be particularly attentive to the Lord's words about our service. The Gospel Passage that has just been read speaks indirectly but profoundly of our sacrament, of our call to be in the Lord's vineyard, to be servants of his mystery.

In this brief passage we find certain key words that give an idea of the proclamation that the Lord wishes to make with this text. "Abide": in this short passage we find the word "abide" ten times. We then find the new commandment: "Love one another as I have loved you" , "No longer do I call you servants... but friends", "bear fruit"; and lastly, "Ask, and it will be given you... that your joy may be full".

Let us pray to the Lord that he may help us enter into the meaning of his words, that these words may penetrate our hearts, thus becoming in us the way and life, with us and through us.

The first words are: "Abide in me... in my love". Abiding in the Lord is fundamental as the first topic of this passage. Abide: where? In love, in the love of Christ, in being loved and in loving the Lord. The whole of chapter 15 explains where we are to abide, because the first eight verses explain and present the Parable of the Vine: "I am the vine, you are the branches". The vine is an Old Testament image that we find in both the Prophets and the Psalms and it has a double meaning: It is a parable for the People of God which is his vineyard. He planted a vine in this world, he tended this vine, he tended his vineyard, he protected his vineyard and what was his intention? It was of course to produce fruit, to harvest the precious gift of grapes, of good wine.

And thus the second meaning appears: Wine is a symbol, the expression of the joy of love. The Lord created his people to find the answer to his love. This image of the vine, of the vineyard thus has a spousal meaning, it is an expression of the fact that God seeks his creature's love, through his Chosen People he wants to enter into a relationship of love, a spousal relationship with the world.

Then, however, history proved to be a history of infidelity: Instead of precious grapes, only small "inedible fruits" are produced. The response of this great love is not forthcoming, this unity, this unconditional union between man and God in the communion of love does not come about, man withdraws into himself, he wants to keep himself to himself, he wants to have God for himself, he wants the world for himself. Consequently the vineyard is devastated, the boar from the forest and all the enemies arrive and the vineyard becomes a wilderness.

But God does not give up. God finds a new way of reaching a free, irrevocable love, the fruit of this love, the true grape: God becomes man, and thus he himself becomes the root of the vine, he himself becomes the vine and so the vine becomes indestructible. This people of God cannot be destroyed for God himself has entered it, he has put down roots in this land. The new People of God is truly founded in God himself who becomes man and thus calls us to be the new vine in him and to abide in him, to dwell in him.

Let us also bear in mind that in chapter 6 of John's Gospel we find the Discourse of the Bread that becomes the great Discourse on the Eucharistic mystery. In this chapter 15 we have the Discourse on the Vine: the Lord does not speak explicitly of the Eucharist. Naturally, however, behind the mystery of the wine is the reality that he has made himself fruit and wine for us, that his Blood is the fruit of the love born from the earth for ever and, in the Eucharist, this Blood becomes our blood, we are renewed, we receive a new identity because Christ's Blood becomes our blood. Thus we are related to God in the Son and, in the Eucharist, this great reality of life in which we are branches joined to the Son and thereby in union with eternal love becomes our reality.

"Abide": Abide in this great mystery, abide in this new gift of the Lord that has made us a people in itself, in his Body and with his Blood. It seems to me that we must meditate deeply on this mystery, that is, that God makes himself Body, one with us; Blood, one with us; that we may abide abide in this mystery in communion with God himself, in this great history of love that is the history of true happiness. In meditating on this gift God made himself one of us and at the same time he made us all one, a single vine we must also begin to pray so that this mystery may penetrate our minds and hearts ever more deeply and that we may be ever more capable of living the greatness of the mystery and thus begin to put this imperative: "abide" into practice.

If we continue to read this Gospel passage attentively, we also find a second imperative: "abide", and "observe my commandments".

"Observe" only comes second. "Abide" comes first, at the ontological level, namely that we are united with him, he has given himself to us beforehand and has already given us his love, the fruit. It is not we who must produce the abundant fruit; Christianity is not moralism, it is not we who must do all that God expects of the world but we must first of all enter this ontological mystery: God gives himself. His being, his loving, precedes our action and, in the context of his Body, in the context of being in him, being identified with him and ennobled with his Blood, we too can act with Christ.

Ethics are a consequence of being: first the Lord gives us new life, this is the great gift. Being precedes action and from this being action then follows, as an organic reality, for we can also be what we are in our activity. Let us thus thank the Lord for he has removed us from pure moralism; we cannot obey a prescribed law but must only act in accordance with our new identity. Therefore it is no longer obedience, an external thing, but rather the fulfilment of the gift of new life.

I say it once again: Let us thank the Lord because he goes before us, he gives us what we must give, and we must then be, in the truth and by virtue of our new being, protagonists of his reality. Abiding and observing: Observing is the sign of abiding and abiding is the gift that he gives us but which must be renewed every day of our lives.

Next comes this new commandment: "Love one another as I have loved you". There is no greater love than this, "that a man lay down his life for his friends". What does this mean? Here too it is not a question of moralism. Some might say: "It is not a new commandment; the commandment to love one's neighbour as oneself already exists in the Old Testament".

Others say: "This love should be even more radicalized; this love of others must imitate Christ who gave himself for us; it must be a heroic love, to the point of the gift of self".

In this case, however, Christianity would be a heroic moralism. It is true that we must reach the point of this radicalism of love which Christ showed to us and gave for us, but here too the true newness is not what we do, the true newness is what he did: The Lord gave us himself, and the Lord gave us the true newness of being members of his Body, of being branches of the vine that he is. Therefore, the newness is the gift, the great gift, and from the gift, from the newness of the gift, also follows, as I have said, the new action.

St. Thomas Aquinas says this very succinctly when he writes: "The New Law is the grace of the Holy Spirit" (Summa Theologiae, i-iiae, q.106 a. 1). The New Law is not another commandment more difficult than the others: The New Law is a gift, the New Law is the presence of the Holy Spirit imparted to us in the sacrament of Baptism, in Confirmation, and given to us every day in the Most Blessed Eucharist. The Fathers distinguished here between "sacramentum" and "exemplum". "Sacramentum" is the gift of the new being, and this gift also becomes an example for our action, but "sacramentum" precedes it and we live by the sacrament. Here we see the centrality of the sacrament which is the centrality of the gift.

Let us proceed in our reflection. The Lord says: "No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you".

No longer servants who obey orders, but friends who know, who are united in the same will, in the same love. Hence the newness is that God has made himself known, that God has shown himself, that God is no longer the unknown God, sought but not found or only perceived from afar. God has shown himself: In the Face of Christ we see God, God has made himself "known", and has thereby made us his friends.

Let us think how, in humanity's history, in all the archaic religions, it is known that there is a God. This knowledge is deeply rooted in the human heart, the knowledge that God is one, that deities are not "the" God. Yet this God remains very distant, he does not seem to make himself known, he does not make himself loved, he is not a friend, but is remote. Religions, therefore, were not very concerned with this God, concrete life was concerned with the spirits that we meet every day and with which we must reckon daily. God remained distant.

Then we see the great philosophical movement: Let us think of Plato and Aristotle who began to understand that this God is the agathon, goodness itself, that he is the eros that moves the world; yet this remains a human thought, it is an idea of God that comes close to the truth but it is an idea of ours and God remains the hidden God.

A Regensburg professor recently wrote to me, a professor of physics who had read my Discourse to the University very late. He wrote to tell me that he could not agree, or not fully, with my logic. He said:

"Of course, the idea is convincing that the rational structure of the world demands a creative reason that made this rationality which is not explained by itself". And he continued: "But if a demiurge can exist", this is how he put it, "a demiurge seems to me certain by what you say, I do not see that there is a God who is good, just and merciful. I can see that there is a reason that precedes the rationality of the cosmos, but I cannot see the rest".

Thus God remains hidden to him. It is a reason that precedes our reasoning, our rationality, the rationality of being, but eternal love does not exist, the great mercy that gives us life does not exist.

And here, in Christ, God showed himself in his total truth, he showed that he is reason and love, that eternal reason is love and thus creates. Unfortunately, today too, many people live far from Christ, they do not know his face and thus the eternal temptation of dualism, which is also hidden in this professor's letter, is constantly renewed, in other words perhaps there is not only one good principle but also a bad principle, a principle of evil; perhaps the world is divided and there are two equally strong realities and the Good God is only part of the reality. Today, even in theology, including Catholic theology, this thesis is being disseminated: That God is not almighty. Thus an apology is sought for God who would not, therefore, be responsible for the great store of evil we encounter in the world. But what a feeble apology! A God who is not almighty! Evil is not in his hands! And how could we possibly entrust ourselves to this God? How could we be certain of his love if this love ended where the power of evil began?

However, God is no longer unknown: In the Face of the Crucified Christ we see God and we see true omnipotence, not the myth of omnipotence. For us human beings, almightiness, power, is always identified with the capacity to destroy, to do evil. Nevertheless the true concept of omnipotence that appears in Christ is precisely the opposite: In him true omnipotence is loving to the point that God can suffer: Here his true omnipotence is revealed, which can even go as far as a love that suffers for us. And thus we see that he is the true God and the true God, who is love, is power: the power of love. And we can trust ourselves to his almighty love and live in this, with this almighty love.

I think we should always meditate anew on this reality, that we should thank God because he has shown himself, because we know his Face, we know him face to face; no longer like Moses who could only see the back of the Lord.

This too is a beautiful idea of which St. Gregory of Nyssa said: "Seeing only his back, means that we must always follow Christ". But at the same time God showed us his Countenance with Christ, his Face. The curtain of the temple was torn. It opened, the mystery of God is visible. The first commandment that excludes images of God because they might only diminish his reality is changed, renewed, taking another form. Today we can see God's Face in Christ the man, we can have an image of Christ and thus see who God is.

I think that those who have understood this, who have been touched by this mystery, that God has revealed himself, that the curtain of the temple has been torn asunder, that he has shown his Face, find a source of permanent joy. We can only say "thank you. Yes, now we know who you are, who God is and how to respond to him".

And I think that this joy of knowing God who has shown himself, to the depths of his being, also embraces the joy of communicating this: those who have understood this, who live touched by this reality, must do as the first disciples did when they went to their friends and brethren saying: "We have found the one of whom the Prophets spoke. He is present now".

Mission is not an external appendix to the faith but rather the dynamism of faith itself. Those who have seen, who have encountered Jesus, must go to their friends and tell them: "We have found him, he is Jesus, the One who was Crucified for us".

Then, continuing, the text says: "I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide". With this we return to the beginning, to the image, to the Parable of the Vine: it is created to bear fruit. And what is the fruit? As we have said, the fruit is love. In the Old Testament, with the Torah as the first stage of God's revelation of himself, the fruit was understood as justice, that is, living in accordance with the Word of God, living in accordance with God's will, hence, living well.

This continues but at the same time is transcended: True justice does not consist in obedience to a few norms, rather it is love, creative love that finds in itself the riches and abundance of good.

Abundance is one of the key words of the New Testament. God himself always gives in abundance. In order to create man, he creates this abundance of an immense cosmos; to redeem man he gives himself, in the Eucharist he gives himself.

And anyone who is united with Christ, who is a branch of the Vine and who abides by this law does not ask: "Can I still do this or not?", "Should I do this or not?". Rather, he lives in the enthusiasm of love that does not ask: "Is this still necessary or is it forbidden?", but simply, in the creativity of love, wants to live with Christ and for Christ and give his whole self to him, thus entering into the joy of bearing fruit.

Let us also bear in mind that the Lord says: "I chose you and appointed you that you should go": This is the dynamism that dwells in Christ's love; to go, in other words not to remain alone for me, to see my perfection, to guarantee eternal beatification for me, but rather to forget myself, to go as Christ went, to go as God went from the immensity of his majesty to our poverty, to find fruit, to help us, to give us the possibility of bearing the true fruit of love. The fuller we are of this joy in having discovered God's Face, the more real will the enthusiasm of love in us be and it will bear fruit.

And finally, we come to the last words in this passage: "Whatever you ask the Father in my name, he may give it to you": a brief catechesis on prayer that never ceases to surprise us. Twice in this chapter 15 the Lord says: "Ask whatever you will, and it shall be done for you", and he says it once more in chapter 16.

And we want to say: "But no, Lord it is not true". There are so many good and deeply-felt prayers of mothers who pray for a dying child which are not heard, so many prayers that something good will happen and the Lord does not grant it. What does this promise mean? In chapter 16 the Lord offers us the key to understanding it: He tells us what he gives us, what all this is, chara, joy. If someone has found joy he has found all things and sees all things in the light of divine love. Like St. Francis, who wrote the great poem on creation in a bleak situation, yet even there, close to the suffering Lord, he rediscovered the beauty of being, the goodness of God and composed this great poem.

It is also useful to remember at the same time some verses of Luke's Gospel, in which the Lord, in a parable, speaks of prayer, saying, "If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!" .

The Holy Spirit, in the Gospel according to Luke, is joy, in John's Gospel he is the same reality: joy is the Holy Spirit and the Holy Spirit is joy or, in other words from God we do not ask something small or great, from God we invoke the divine gift, God himself; this is the great gift that God gives us: God himself.

In this regard we must learn to pray, to pray for the great reality, for the divine reality, so that God may give us himself, may give us his Spirit and thus we may respond to the demands of life and help others in their suffering. Of course he teaches us the "Our Father". We can pray for many things. In all our needs we can pray: "Help me!". This is very human and God is human, as we have seen; therefore it is right to pray God also for the small things of our daily lives.

However, at the same time, prayer is a journey, I would say flight of stairs: We must learn more and more what it is that we can pray for and what we cannot pray for because it is an expression of our selfishness.

I cannot pray for things that are harmful for others, I cannot pray for things that help my egoism, my pride. Thus prayer, in God's eyes, becomes a process of purification of our thoughts, of our desires.

As the Lord says in the Parable of the Vine: We must be pruned, purified, every day; living with Christ, in Christ, abiding in Christ, is a process of purification and it is only in this process of slow purification, of liberation from ourselves and from the desire to have only ourselves, that the true journey of life lies and the path of joy unfolds.

As I have already said, all the Lord's words have a sacramental background. The fundamental background for the Parable of the Vine is Baptism: We are implanted in Christ; and the Eucharist: We are one loaf, one body, one blood, one life with Christ. Thus this process of purification also has a sacramental background: The sacrament of Penance, of Reconciliation, in which we accept this divine pedagogy which day by day, throughout our life, purifies us and increasingly makes us true members of his Body. In this way we can learn that God responds to our prayers, that he often responds with his goodness also to small prayers, but often too he corrects them, transforms them and guides them so that we may at last and really be branches of his Son, of the true vine, members of his Body.

Let us thank God for the greatness of his love, let us pray that he may help us to grow in his love and truly to abide in his love.

© Copyright 2010 -- Libreria Editrice Vaticana

reprinted from Zenit

Ash Wednesday

2010-02-17T19:09:00.000-08:00

VATICAN CITY, FEB. 17, 2010.- Here is a translation of the address Benedict XVI gave today at the general audience in Paul VI Hall.

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Dear brothers and sisters,

Today, Ash Wednesday, we begin the Lenten journey: a journey that extends over 40 days and that leads us to the joy of the Lord's Easter. We are not alone in this spiritual itinerary, because the Church accompanies and sustains us from the start with the Word of God, which encloses a program of spiritual life and penitential commitment, and with the grace of the sacraments.

The words of the Apostle Paul offer us a precise instruction: "Working together, then, we appeal to you not to receive the grace of God in vain. For he says: 'In an acceptable time I heard you, and on the day of salvation I helped you.' Behold, now is a very acceptable time; behold, now is the day of salvation" (2 Corinthians 6:1-2). In fact, in the Christian vision of life every moment must be called favorable and every day must be called the day of salvation. But the liturgy of the Church refers these words in a very particular way to the time of Lent. And that the 40 days of preparation for Easter be a favorable time and grace we can understand precisely in the call that the austere rite of the imposition of ashes addresses to us and which is expressed, in the liturgy, with two formulae: "Repent and believe in the Gospel," and "Remember man that thou art dust and unto dust thou shalt return."

The first call is to conversion, a word that must be taken in its extraordinary seriousness, discovering the amazing novelty it contains. The call to conversion, in fact, uncovers and denounces the easy superficiality that very often characterizes our way of living. To be converted means to change direction along the way of life -- not for a slight adjustment, but a true and total change of direction. Conversion is to go against the current, where the "current" is a superficial lifestyle, inconsistent and illusory, which often draws us, controls us and makes us slaves of evil, or in any case prisoners of moral mediocrity. With conversion, instead, one aims to the lofty measure of Christian life; we are entrusted to the living and personal Gospel, which is Christ Jesus. His person is the final goal and the profound meaning of conversion; he is the way which we are called to follow in life, allowing ourselves to be illumined by his light and sustained by his strength that moves our steps. In this way conversion manifests its most splendid and fascinating face: It is not a simple moral decision to rectify our conduct of life, but it is a decision of faith, which involves us wholly in profound communion with the living and concrete person of Jesus.

To be converted and to believe in the Gospel are not two different things or in some way closely related, but rather, they express the same reality. Conversion is the total "yes" of the one who gives his own existence to the Gospel, responding freely to Christ, who first offered himself to man as Way, Truth and Life, as the one who frees and saves him. This is precisely the meaning of the first words with which, according to the Evangelist Mark, Jesus began the preaching of the "Gospel of God." "This is the time of fulfillment. The kingdom of God is at hand. Repent, and believe in the Gospel" (Mark 1:15).

"Repent and believe in the Gospel" is not only at the beginning of the Christian life, but accompanies all its steps, [this call] remains, renewing itself, and spreads, branching out in all its expressions. Every day is a favorable moment of grace, because each day invites us to give ourselves to Jesus, to have confidence in him, to remain in him, to share his style of life, to learn from him true love, to follow him in daily fulfilling of the will of the Father, the only great law of life -- every day, even when difficulties and toil, exhaustion and falls are not lacking, even when we are tempted to abandon the following of Christ and to shut ourselves in ourselves, in our egoism, without realizing the need we have to open to the love of God in Christ, to live the same logic of justice and love.

In the recent Message for Lent, I wished to remind that "humility is required to accept that I need Another to free me from 'what is mine,' to give me gratuitously 'what is his.' This happens especially in the sacraments of reconciliation and the Eucharist. Thanks to Christ’s action, we may enter into the 'greatest' justice, which is that of love (cf. Rm 13, 8-10), the justice that recognizes itself in every case more a debtor than a creditor, because it has received more than could ever have been expected" (L'Osservatore Romano, Feb. 5, 2010, p. 8).

The favorable moment and grace of Lent shows us the very spiritual meaning also through the old formula: "Remember man that thou art dust and unto dust thou shalt return," which the priest pronounces when he places ashes on our head. We are thus remitted to the beginning of human history, when the Lord said to Adam after the original fault: "By the sweat of your face shall you get bread to eat, Until you return to the ground, from which you were taken; For you are dirt, and to dirt you shall return" (Genesis 3:19).

Here, the Word of God reminds us of our frailty, including our death, which is the extreme expression of our frailty. In face of the innate fear of the end, and even more so in the context of a culture that in so many ways tends to censure the reality and the human experience of dying, the Lenten liturgy on one hand reminds us of death, inviting us to realism and to wisdom but, on the other hand, it drives us above all to accept and live the unexpected novelty that the Christian faith liberates us from the reality of death itself.

Man is dust and to dust he shall return, but he is precious dust in God's eyes, because God created man for immortality. Thus the liturgical formula "Remember man that thou art dust and to dust thou shalt return" finds the fullness of its meaning in reference to the new Adam, Christ. The Lord Jesus also wished to freely share with every man the lot of frailty, in particular through his death on the cross; but precisely this death, full of his love for the Father and for humanity, has been the way for the glorious resurrection, through which Christ has become the source of a grace given to those who believe in him and are made participants of divine life itself. This life which will have no end is already present in the earthly phase of our existence, but will be led to fulfillment after the "resurrection of the flesh." The little gesture of the imposition of ashes reveals to us the singular richness of its meaning: It is an invitation to live the time of Lent as a more conscious and more intense immersion in the Paschal Mystery of Christ, in his death and resurrection, through participation in the Eucharist and in the life of charity, which stems from the Eucharist and in which it finds its fulfillment. With the imposition of ashes we renew our commitment to follow Jesus, to allow ourselves to be transformed by his Paschal Mystery, to overcome evil and do good, to have the "old man" in us die, the one linked to sin, and to have the "new man" be born, transformed by the grace of God.

Dear friends! While we hasten to undertake the austere Lenten journey, we want to invoke with particular confidence the protection and help of the Virgin Mary. May she, the first believer in Christ, be the one who accompanies us in these 40 days of intense prayer and sincere penance, to be able to celebrate, purified and completely renewed in mind and spirit, the great mystery of her Son's Easter.

Good Lent to all!

reprinted from Zenit

Here I am

2010-02-11T13:18:00.000-08:00

VATICAN CITY, FEB. 7, 2010.- Here is a translation of the address Benedict XVI gave today before and after praying the midday Angelus with those gathered in St. Peter's Square.

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Dear brothers and sisters,

The liturgy of this Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time presents us with the theme of the divine call. In a majestic vision, Isaiah finds himself in the presence of the Thrice-Holy Lord and is seized by a great fear and by the profound feeling of his own unworthiness. But a seraph purifies his lips with a hot coal and takes away his sin, and he, making himself ready to answer the call, exclaims: "Here I am, Lord, send me!" (cf. Isaiah 6:1-2, 3-8).

The same succession of sentiments is present in the episode of the miraculous catch of fish, about which today's Gospel passage speaks. Invited by Jesus to lower their nets, despite a night of fruitless effort, Simon Peter and the other disciples, trusting in his word, make a huge catch. Faced with such a prodigy, Simon Peter does not throw his arms around Jesus to express his joy over the unexpected catch but, as the Evangelist St. Luke recounts, falls to his knees, saying: "Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man." Jesus then answers him: "Do not be afraid; from now on I will make you a fisher of men" (cf. Luke 5:10); and Peter, leaving everything, follows him.

Paul too, noting that he was a persecutor of the Church, confesses that he is unworthy of being called an apostle, but he recognizes that the grace of God has accomplished marvels in him and, despite his own limitations, has entrusted to him the task and the honor of preaching the Gospel (cf. 1 Corinthians 15:8-10). In these three experiences we see how the authentic encounter with God brings man to recognize his own poverty and inadequacy, his limitations and his sin. But this fragility notwithstanding, the Lord, rich in mercy and forgiveness, transforms man's life and calls man to follow him.

The humility that Isaiah, Peter and Paul bear witness to, invites those who have received the gift of a divine calling not to focus on their own limits, but to keep their gaze fixed on the Lord and on his surprising mercy, to convert the heart and continue, with joy, to "leave everything" for him. He, in fact does not look at what man considers important: "Man sees the appearance but the Lord sees the heart" (1 Samuel 16:7), and renders men who are poor and weak, but who have faith in him, intrepid apostles and proclaimers of salvation.

In this Year for Priests, let us pray that the Lord of the harvest send workers into fields. Let's pray that those who hear the Lord's invitation to follow him, after the necessary discernment, know how to respond to him with generosity, not trusting in their own power, but opening themselves to the action of his grace. In particular, I invite all priests to revive their generous availability to respond to the Lord's call every day with the same humility and faith that Isaiah, Peter and Paul had.

We entrust to the Holy Virgin all vocations, especially those to the religious and priestly life. May Mary awaken in everyone the desire to say his own "yes" to the Lord with joy and total dedication.

reprinted from Zenit

Promoting social integration

2010-02-05T09:43:00.000-08:00

NEW YORK, FEB. 5, 2010.- Here is the statement regarding social integration that Archbishop Celestino Migliore, permanent observer of the Holy See at the United Nations, delivered Thursday at the 48th session of the Commission for Social Development of the United Nations Economic and Social Council.

* * *

Mr. Chairman,

On behalf of my Delegation, I wish to express best wishes to you and the Bureau for a productive session on this year's priority theme "Promoting social integration" and look forward to working with the membership and other stakeholders to address the daunting challenges of social integration.

For more than twenty years now the human community has been living and interacting within the context of the so-called globalization of society. And yet, "as society becomes ever more globalized, it makes us neighbours but does not make us brothers."

All those responsible for promoting social integration and cohesion know all too well that this is not attainable by a simple, though indispensable, mix of good laws and social measures and incentives. There is always a need to push further ahead and take into consideration the integral good of the human person in his various dimensions, including the spiritual.

In a world beset with the soaring woes of the economic and financial crisis, the deliberations over promoting social integration must take into account its link with poverty eradication and full employment, including decent work for all.

While the financial system seems to be regaining stability and increasing production in some sectors offers signs of economic recovery, still in many places the level of unemployment continues to worsen.

In this context, in order to promote economic and social growth along with employment, it seems that the patterns of consumption should be focused upon relational goods and services which promote greater connection between people. By investing in relational goods, such as medical care, education, culture, art, sport -- all things which develop a person and require unique human interaction rather than machine production -- the State, through its public intervention, would be addressing development at its root, while also promoting employment and long-term development.

Social development and integration will not come about solely from technological solutions, since they concern primarily human relations.

Focusing on human relations necessarily calls for an openness to life which is a positive contribution to social and economic development. In this light, too often population growth is viewed as the cause of poverty whereas it is a means of overcoming it, for only within the work force can the solution for poverty be found. It is therefore imperative that countries focus their efforts on finding the ways and means for ensuring that people receive the necessary skills, training and education so that human ingenuity can be harnessed in a way which promotes development and human rights. Similarly, where economic growth rates have declined, the answers lie not in trying to close society to others and pushing for population decline but rather in creating a society which is open to and encourages life. Promoting life and the family and finding ways to integrate the contribution of all people will allow societies to realize their full potential and achieve development.

For this reason, the family occupies a central place. The family is the first context in which children learn certain skills, attitudes and virtues which prepare them for the labor force and thus allow them to contribute to economic growth and social development. Education and formation is a long-term investment. It requires that policies promoting the family be based not only on redistribution but above all on justice and efficiency and assume responsibility for the economic and fiscal needs of families.

Mr. Chairman, as we promote social integration in our world today we cannot overlook the increasing concern that needs to be given to migration, and in particular, irregular migration.

Intolerance and mutual friction between citizens and newcomers is always more noted in countries of intense immigration. The phenomenon calls for strong attention to the two tracks of acceptance of migrants and respect for the law, on which the solutions to the problem can be found. Also in this field, integration and social cohesion are the parameters that allow us to find adequate solutions to complex issues connected with immigration.

Integration requires a long time and is usually realized in subsequent generations. It is built on the premise of a proactive vision of national citizenship, of the mechanisms of interaction that involves full respect of the fundamental rights of all -- of citizens as well as of newcomers -- and of a culture of social justice.

In social integration programs, including the efforts to bridge the gap in education, health care and care for environment, important roles are played by civil society and faith based organizations since they help to ensure the involvement of local communities and promote cooperation and participation of all peoples.

Thank you, Mr. Chairman.

reprinted from Zenit

"What is needed is an even deeper 'exodus'"

2010-02-05T06:05:00.000-08:00

VATICAN CITY, FEB. 4, 2010.- Here is Benedict XVI's message for Lent, which was published today by the Vatican press office. The message has as its theme: "The Justice of God Has Been Manifested Through Faith in Jesus Christ."

Lent begins Feb. 17.

* * *

Dear Brothers and Sisters!

Each year, on the occasion of Lent, the Church invites us to a sincere review of our life in light of the teachings of the Gospel. This year, I would like to offer you some reflections on the great theme of justice, beginning from the Pauline affirmation: "The justice of God has been manifested through faith in Jesus Christ" (cf. Rm 3, 21-22).

Justice: "dare cuique suum"

First of all, I want to consider the meaning of the term "justice," which in common usage implies "to render to every man his due," according to the famous expression of Ulpian, a Roman jurist of the third century. In reality, however, this classical definition does not specify what "due" is to be rendered to each person. What man needs most cannot be guaranteed to him by law. In order to live life to the full, something more intimate is necessary that can be granted only as a gift: we could say that man lives by that love which only God can communicate since He created the human person in His image and likeness. Material goods are certainly useful and required – indeed Jesus Himself was concerned to heal the sick, feed the crowds that followed Him and surely condemns the indifference that even today forces hundreds of millions into death through lack of food, water and medicine – yet "distributive" justice does not render to the human being the totality of his "due." Just as man needs bread, so does man have even more need of God. Saint Augustine notes: if "justice is that virtue which gives every one his due ... where, then, is the justice of man, when he deserts the true God?" (De civitate Dei, XIX, 21).

What is the Cause of Injustice?

The Evangelist Mark reports the following words of Jesus, which are inserted within the debate at that time regarding what is pure and impure: "There is nothing outside a man which by going into him can defile him; but the things which come out of a man are what defile him … What comes out of a man is what defiles a man. For from within, out of the heart of man, come evil thoughts" (Mk 7, 14-15, 20-21). Beyond the immediate question concerning food, we can detect in the reaction of the Pharisees a permanent temptation within man: to situate the origin of evil in an exterior cause. Many modern ideologies deep down have this presupposition: since injustice comes "from outside," in order for justice to reign, it is sufficient to remove the exterior causes that prevent it being achieved. This way of thinking – Jesus warns – is ingenuous and shortsighted. Injustice, the fruit of evil, does not have exclusively external roots; its origin lies in the human heart, where the seeds are found of a mysterious cooperation with evil. With bitterness the Psalmist recognises this: "Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me" (Ps 51,7). Indeed, man is weakened by an intense influence, which wounds his capacity to enter into communion with the other.

By nature, he is open to sharing freely, but he finds in his being a strange force of gravity that makes him turn in and affirm himself above and against others: this is egoism, the result of original sin. Adam and Eve, seduced by Satan’s lie, snatching the mysterious fruit against the divine command, replaced the logic of trusting in Love with that of suspicion and competition; the logic of receiving and trustfully expecting from the Other with anxiously seizing and doing on one’s own (cf. Gn 3, 1-6), experiencing, as a consequence, a sense of disquiet and uncertainty. How can man free himself from this selfish influence and open himself to love?

Justice and Sedaqah

At the heart of the wisdom of Israel, we find a profound link between faith in God who "lifts the needy from the ash heap" (Ps 113,7) and justice towards one’s neighbor. The Hebrew word itself that indicates the virtue of justice, sedaqah, expresses this well. Sedaqah, in fact, signifies on the one hand full acceptance of the will of the God of Israel; on the other hand, equity in relation to one’s neighbour (cf. Ex 20, 12-17), especially the poor, the stranger, the orphan and the widow (cf. Dt 10, 18-19). But the two meanings are linked because giving to the poor for the Israelite is none other than restoring what is owed to God, who had pity on the misery of His people. It was not by chance that the gift to Moses of the tablets of the Law on Mount Sinai took place after the crossing of the Red Sea. Listening to the Law presupposes faith in God who first "heard the cry" of His people and "came down to deliver them out of hand of the Egyptians" (cf. Ex 3,8). God is attentive to the cry of the poor and in return asks to be listened to: He asks for justice towards the poor (cf. Sir 4,4-5, 8-9), the stranger (cf. Ex 22,20), the slave (cf. Dt 15, 12-18). In order to enter into justice, it is thus necessary to leave that illusion of self-sufficiency, the profound state of closure, which is the very origin of injustice. In other words, what is needed is an even deeper "exodus" than that accomplished by God with Moses, a liberation of the heart, which the Law on its own is powerless to realize. Does man have any hope of justice then?

Christ, the Justice of God

The Christian Good News responds positively to man’s thirst for justice, as Saint Paul affirms in the Letter to the Romans: "But now the justice of God has been manifested apart from law … the justice of God through faith in Jesus Christ for all who believe. For there is no distinction; since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, they are justified by His grace as a gift, through the redemption which is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as an expiation by his blood, to be received by faith" (3, 21-25).

What then is the justice of Christ? Above all, it is the justice that comes from grace, where it is not man who makes amends, heals himself and others. The fact that "expiation" flows from the "blood" of Christ signifies that it is not man’s sacrifices that free him from the weight of his faults, but the loving act of God who opens Himself in the extreme, even to the point of bearing in Himself the "curse" due to man so as to give in return the "blessing" due to God (cf. Gal 3, 13-14). But this raises an immediate objection: what kind of justice is this where the just man dies for the guilty and the guilty receives in return the blessing due to the just one? Would this not mean that each one receives the contrary of his "due"? In reality, here we discover divine justice, which is so profoundly different from its human counterpart. God has paid for us the price of the exchange in His Son, a price that is truly exorbitant. Before the justice of the Cross, man may rebel for this reveals how man is not a self-sufficient being, but in need of Another in order to realize himself fully. Conversion to Christ, believing in the Gospel, ultimately means this: to exit the illusion of self-sufficiency in order to discover and accept one’s own need – the need of others and God, the need of His forgiveness and His friendship. So we understand how faith is altogether different from a natural, good-feeling, obvious fact: humility is required to accept that I need Another to free me from "what is mine," to give me gratuitously "what is His." This happens especially in the sacraments of Reconciliation and the Eucharist. Thanks to Christ’s action, we may enter into the "greatest" justice, which is that of love (cf. Rm 13, 8-10), the justice that recognises itself in every case more a debtor than a creditor, because it has received more than could ever have been expected.

Strengthened by this very experience, the Christian is moved to contribute to creating just societies, where all receive what is necessary to live according to the dignity proper to the human person and where justice is enlivened by love.

Dear brothers and sisters, Lent culminates in the Paschal Triduum, in which this year, too, we shall celebrate divine justice – the fullness of charity, gift, salvation. May this penitential season be for every Christian a time of authentic conversion and intense knowledge of the mystery of Christ, who came to fulfill every justice. With these sentiments, I cordially impart to all of you my Apostolic Blessing.
From the Vatican, 30 October 2009

BENEDICTUS PP. XVI

© Copyright 2010 -- Libreria Editrice Vaticana

"We did not feel like individual experts"

2010-02-03T09:27:00.000-08:00

VATICAN CITY, JAN. 29, 2010.- Here is a Vatican translation of the German-language address Benedict XVI delivered extemporaneously Jan. 16 upon being made an honorary citizen of the south German city of Freising at a ceremony at the Vatican. He spoke of the time he spent there as a seminarian, and the day of his ordination.

* * *

Dear Mayor,
Your Eminence, Dear Archbishop,
Dear Auxiliary Bishop,

Dear Citizens of Freising,
Dear Friends,

It is a moving moment for me to have now legally become a citizen of Freising and thus belong in a new and deeply profound way to the City to which I feel I intimately belong.

For this reason I can only say from the bottom of my heart "Vergelt's Gott" (may God reward you). My joy at this moment will stay with me.

In my life biography in the biography of my heart, if I may the City of Freising has played a very special role. In this City I received the formation that has marked my life ever since. Thus, in a certain way, Freising is always present in me and I in it. And as you noted, Mr Mayor the inclusion in my coat-of-arms of the Moor and Bear of Freising shows the whole world how closely I belong to it. Then the fact that I am also now legally a citizen of Freising, is the crowning point and I am profoundly glad.

On this occasion a whole horizon of images and memories wells up within me. You have mentioned some of them, dear Mr Mayor. I would like to take up certain points.

To start with there is 3 January 1946. After a long wait, the time came at last when the Seminary of Freising could open its doors to all who were returning home. Indeed, it was still a hospital for former prisoners-of-war, but we were then able to begin. That moment marked a turning point in our lives: being on the path to which we felt called.

In today's context we lived in a very "old-fashioned" way without comforts. We were in dormitories, study halls and so forth, but we were happy and not only because we had at last escaped the wretchedness and threats of war and Nazi domination, but also because we were free and, especially, because we had set out on the path to which we felt called.

We knew that Christ was stronger than the tyranny, than the power of the Nazi ideology and its mechanisms of oppression. We knew that time and the future belong to Christ and we knew that he had called us and that he needed us, that there was a need for us.

We knew that the people of those changed times were waiting for us, they were waiting for priests to arrive with a new impetus of faith to build the house of the living God. On this occasion I must also raise a small hymn of praise to the old athenaeum to which I belonged, first as a student and then as a teacher.

Some were very erudite, and some were even known internationally, but what, to my mind, was most important was that they were not only scholars but also teachers, people who not only offered the first-fruits of their specialization but were concerned to give the students the essential, the healthy bread they needed in order to receive faith from within.

And it was important that we if I may now say we did not feel like individual experts but rather that we were part of a whole, that each one of us was working for theology as a whole; that our work had to make visible the logic of faith as unity and thereby increase our ability to account for our faith, as St Peter said (cf. 1 Pt 3: 15), so as to pass it on in a new epoch with new challenges.

The second image that I would like to mention is the day of my ordination to the priesthood. The Cathedral was always the centre of our life, just as at the seminary where we were one family. And it was Fr Höck who made us a real family. The Cathedral was the centre of it and for our entire life represented the unforgettable day of our priestly ordination.

Three moments are particularly deeply impressed within me.

First of all, lying stretched out on the ground during the litany of the saints. In lying prostrate on the ground, one becomes newly aware of all one's poverty and asks oneself: am I truly capable of it? And at the same time the names of all the saints of history and the entreaty of the faithful ring out: "Hear us; help them".

In this way the awareness grows that, yes, I am weak and inadequate but I am not alone, there are others with me, the entire community of the saints is with me. They accompany me and thus I can make this journey and become a companion and guide for others.

The second moment, the imposition of hands by the elderly, venerable Cardinal Faulhaber who laid his hands upon me, upon all of us, in a profound and intense manner and the knowledge that it was the Lord who was laying his hands upon me and saying: "you belong to me, you do not simply belong to yourself, I want you, you are at my service"; but also the awareness that this imposition of hands is a grace, that it does not only create obligations, but above all is a gift, that he is with me and that his love protects and accompanies me.

Then there was also the old rite in which the power to forgive sins was conferred at a separate moment. It began when the Bishop, pronouncing the Lord's words, said: "No longer do I call you servants... but... friends". And I knew we knew that this is not only a quotation from John 15 but a timely word that the Lord is addressing to me now. He accepts me as a friend; I am in this friendly relationship; he has given me his trust and I can work within this friendship and make others friends of Christ.

You have already alluded to the third image, Mr Mayor: I was able to pass a further unforgettable three and a half years with my parents at Lerchenfeldhof. Thus once again I could feel completely at home. These last three and a half years with my parents were an immense gift to me and truly made Freising my home. I am thinking of the celebrations, of how we celebrated Christmas, Easter and Pentecost together; of our walks through the fields together, of how we would go to the woods to gather fir-tree branches and moss for the crib, and of our outings to the fields on the banks of the Isar. Thus Freising became a real homeland to us, and as a homeland it lives on in my heart.

Today Munich airport is located at the gates of Freising. Those who land or take off from there see the towers of Freising Cathedral, they see the mons doctus, and can perhaps understand a little of its past history and of its present.

Freising has always had a sweeping view of the chain of the Alps. By means of the airport it has become, in a certain sense, also global and open to the world.

And yet I want to say: the Cathedral with its towers points upwards to heights that are loftier by far and very different from those we reach in airplanes; the true heights, the heights of God from whom comes the love that gives us authentic humanity.

Yet the Cathedral does not only indicate the loftiness of God who forms us and shows us the way, but also indicates an expanse, and this is not only because the Cathedral embraces centuries of faith and prayer, because it contains, so to speak, the whole community of saints, of all those who went before us who believed, prayed, suffered and rejoiced. It indicates, in general, the great host of all believers of all time. Thus it also shows a vastness which goes beyond globalization, because, in diversity, even in the different cultures and origins, it gives the strength of inner unity, in other words it gives that which can unite us: the unifying power of being loved by God. Thus for me Freising also continues to point out a path.

In closing, I would like once again to thank you for the great honour you have conferred on me, and to thank the band, which evokes here the true Bavarian culture. My desire my prayer is that the Lord may continue to bless this City and that Our Lady of the Cathedral of Freising may protect it, so that in the future too it may be a place of human life, faith and joy. Many thanks.

© Copyright 2010 -- Libreria Editrice Vaticana

More on Christian unity

2010-02-02T07:09:00.000-08:00

VATICAN CITY, JAN. 29, 2010.- Here is a Vatican translation of the address Benedict XVI delivered Monday at the celebration of vespers for the feast of the Conversion of St. Paul in the Basilica of St. Paul Outside the Walls, with which he also concluded the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity.

* * *

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

Gathered together in this fraternal liturgical assembly, on the Feast of the Conversion of St Paul, today we conclude the annual Week of Prayer for Christian Unity. I greet all of you warmly, in particular Cardinal Walter Kasper, President of the Pontifical Council for Promoting Christian Unity, and the Archpriest of this Basilica, Archbishop Francesco Monterisi, along with the Abbot and the Community of monks whose guests we are. I also extend my cordial thoughts to the Cardinals here present, to the Bishops and to all who represent the Churches and ecclesial Communities of this City who are here today.

Only a few months have passed since the conclusion of the Year dedicated to St Paul, which gave us an opportunity to deepen our awareness of his extraordinary work as a preacher of the Gospel and also of our call to be missionaries of the Gospel, as the theme of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity reminds us "You are witnesses of these things" (Lk 24: 48).

Paul, although he retained an intense memory of his own past as a persecutor of Christians, did not hesitate to call himself an Apostle. For him, the basis of that title lay in his encounter with the Risen One on the road to Damascus, which also became the beginning of his tireless missionary activity. In this he was to spend every ounce of his energy, proclaiming to all the peoples the Christ whom he had met personally.

Thus Paul, from being a persecutor of the Church, was in his turn to become a victim of persecution for the sake of the Gospel to which he witnessed: "Five times I have received at the hands of the Jews the forty lashes less one. Three times I have been beaten with rods; once I was stoned.... On frequent journeys, in danger from rivers, danger from robbers, danger from my own people, danger from Gentiles, danger in the city, danger in the wilderness, danger at sea, danger from false brethren; in toil and hardship, through many a sleepless night, in hunger and thirst, often without food, in cold and exposure. And, apart from other things, there is the daily pressure upon me of my anxiety for all the churches" (2 Cor 11: 24-25, 26-28). Paul's witness reached its culmination in his martyrdom when, not so far from here, he was to give proof of his faith in Christ who conquers death.

The dynamic of Paul's experience is clearly expressed in the pages of the Gospel that we have just heard. The disciples of Emmaus, after having recognized the Risen Lord, return to Jerusalem and find the Eleven gathered together with the others. The Risen Christ appears to them, comforts them, overcomes their fear and doubts, and eats with them. Thus he opens their hearts to the intelligence of the Scriptures, recalling what had to happen, which would constitute the nucleus of the Christian proclamation. Jesus affirms: "Thus it is written, that the Christ should suffer and on the third day rise from the dead, and that repentance and forgiveness of sins should be preached in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem" (Lk 24: 46-47). These are the events to which the disciples of the first hour were to bear witness, followed by believers in Christ of all times and places. It is important, however, to emphasize that this witness, then just as now, is born from the encounter with the Risen One, is fed by a constant relationship with him and animated by a profound love for him. One can only be his witness if one has had the experience of feeling Christ alive and present "See my hands and my feet, that it is I myself" (Lk 24: 39) of sitting at table with him, of listening as he sets one's heart aflame! For this, Jesus promises his disciples and each of us a powerful aid from on high, a new presence, that of the Holy Spirit, gift of the Risen Christ, who guides us to the whole truth: "And behold, I send the promise of my Father upon you" (Lk 24: 49). The Eleven were to spend their whole lives proclaiming the Good News of the death and Resurrection of the Lord. Almost all of them were to seal their witness with the blood of martyrdom, a fertile seed that has produced an abundant harvest.

The choice of the theme of this year's Week of Prayer for Christian Unity the invitation, that is, to a common witness of the Risen Christ in accordance with the mandate he entrusted to his disciples is linked to the memory of the 100th anniversary of the Edinburgh Missionary Conference, in Scotland, widely considered a crucial event in the birth of the modern ecumenical movement.

In the summer of 1910, in the Scottish capital, over 1,000 missionaries from diverse branches of Protestantism and Anglicanism, who were joined by one Orthodox guest, met to reflect together on the necessity of achieving unity in order to be credible in preaching the Gospel of Jesus Christ. In fact, it is precisely this desire to proclaim Christ to others and to carry his message of reconciliation throughout the world that makes one realize the contradiction posed by division among Christians.

Indeed, how can non-believers accept the Gospel proclamation if Christians even if they all call on the same Christ are divided among themselves? Moreover, as we know, the same Teacher, at the end of the Last Supper, had prayed to the Father for his disciples: "That they may all be one... so that the world may believe" (Jn 17: 21). The communion and unity of Christ's disciples is therefore a particularly important condition to enhance the credibility and efficacy of their witness.

Now a century after the Edinburgh event, the intuition of those courageous precursors is still very timely. In a world marked by religious indifference, and even by a growing aversion to the Christian faith, it is necessary to discover a new, intense method of evangelization, not only among the peoples who have never known the Gospel but also among those where Christianity has spread and is part of their history. Unfortunately, the issues that separate us from each other are many, and we hope that they can be resolved through prayer and dialogue. There is, however, a core of the Christian message that we can all proclaim together: the fatherhood of God, the victory of Christ over sin and death with his Cross and Resurrection, and faith in the transforming action of the Spirit.

While we journey toward full communion, we are called to offer a common witness in the face of the ever increasingly complex challenges of our time, such as secularization and indifference, relativism and hedonism, the delicate ethical issues concerning the beginning and end of life, the limits of science and technology, the dialogue with other religious traditions. There are also other areas in which we must from now on give a common witness: the safeguard of Creation, the promotion of the common good and of peace, the defense of the centrality of the human person, the commitment to overcome the shortcomings of our time, such as hunger, poverty, illiteracy, and the unequal distribution of goods.

The commitment to unity among Christians is not the work of a few only, nor is it an incidental undertaking for the life of the Church. Each one of us is called to make his or her contribution towards the completion of those steps that lead to full communion among the disciples of Christ, without ever forgetting that this unity is above all a gift from God to be constantly invoked. In fact, the force that supports both unity and the mission flows from the fruitful encounter with the Risen One, just as was the case for St Paul on the road to Damascus, and for the Eleven and the other disciples gathered at Jerusalem.

May the Virgin Mary, Mother of the Church, grant that her Son's desire may be fulfilled as soon as possible: "That they may all be one... so that the world may believe" (Jn 17: 21).

© Copyright 2010 -- Libreria Editrice Vaticana

Life as a hymn to charity, a living canticle to God's love!

2010-02-02T06:28:00.000-08:00

VATICAN CITY, JAN. 31, 2010.- Here is a translation of the address Benedict XVI gave today before and after praying the midday Angelus with those gathered in St. Peter's Square.

* * *

Dear brothers and sisters!

In this Sunday’s liturgy is read one of the most beautiful passages of the New Testament and of the whole Bible: St. Paul’s so-called hymn to charity (1 Corinthians 12:31-13:13). In the First Letter to the Corinthians, after having explained, using the image of the body, that the different gifts of the Holy Spirit are for the benefit of the one Church, Paul shows the “way” of perfection. This way, he says, does not consist in possessing exceptional qualities: speaking new languages, knowing all the mysteries, having a prodigious faith, or doing heroic deeds. It consists rather in charity -- “agape” -- that is, in authentic love, that love that God revealed to us in Jesus Christ.

Charity is the “greatest” gift, which confers worth on others, and yet “does not boast, does not puff up with pride,” indeed, “it rejoices in truth” and the good of others. He who truly loves “does not seek his own interests,” “does not keep track of evil received,” “bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things” (cf. 1 Corinthians 13:4-7).

In the end, when we will meet God face to face, all the other gifts will disappear; the only one that will remain in eternity will be charity, because God is love and we will be like him, in complete communion with him.

For now, while we are in this world, charity is the Christian difference. The Christian’s whole life is summed up by charity: what he believes and what he does. For this reason, at the beginning of my pontificate, I wanted to dedicate my first encyclical precisely to the theme of love: “Deus caritas est.” As you will remember, in this encyclical there are two parts that correspond to the two components of charity: its meaning and its practice. Love is the essence of God himself, it is the meaning of creation and history, it is the light that gives goodness and beauty to every man’s existence.

At the same time, love is the “style,” of God and the believer, it is the comportment of him who, responding to God’s love, makes his own life a gift of self to God and neighbor.

In Jesus Christ these two aspects form a perfect unity: He is Love incarnate. This love is fully revealed to us in Christ crucified. Fixing our gaze upon him, we can confess with the Apostle John: “We have seen the love that God has for us and we have believed in it” (cf. 1 John 4:16; “Deus Caritas Est,” 1).

Dear friends, if we think of the saints, we see the variety of their spiritual gifts, and also their human characters. But the life of each of them is a hymn to charity, a living canticle to God’s love!

Today, Jan. 31, we especially remember St. John Bosco, founder of the Salesian family and patron saint of young people. In this Year for Priests I would like to invoke his intercession so that priests always be educators and fathers for young people; and that, experiencing this pastoral charity, many young people will welcome the call to give their life for Christ and the Gospel. May Mary Our Help, model of charity, obtain these graces for us.

reprinted from Zenit

The Pope on St. Francis

2010-01-27T18:24:00.000-08:00

VATICAN CITY, JAN. 27, 2010.- Here is a translation of the address Benedict XVI gave today during the general audience in Paul VI Hall.

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Dear brothers and sisters,

In a recent catechesis, I already illustrated the providential role that the Order of Friars Minor and the Order of Preachers, founded respectively by St. Francis of Assisi and St. Dominic Guzmán, had in the renewal of the Church of their time. Today I would like to present to you the figure of Francis, an authentic "giant" of holiness, who continues to fascinate very many people of every age and every religion.

"A son is born to the world." With these words, in the Divine Comedy (Paradiso, Canto XI), the greatest Italian poet, Dante Alighieri, alludes to Francis' birth, which occurred at the end of 1181 or the beginning of 1182, in Assisi. Belonging to a wealthy family -- his father was a textile merchant -- Francis enjoyed a carefree adolescence and youth, cultivating the chivalrous ideals of the time. When he was 20 he took part in a military campaign, and was taken prisoner. He became ill and was released. After his return to Assisi, a slow process of spiritual conversion began in him, which led him to abandon gradually the worldly lifestyle he had practiced until then.

Striking at this time are the famous episodes of the meeting with the leper -- to whom Francis, getting off his horse, gave the kiss of peace; and the message of the Crucifix in the little church of San Damiano. Three times the crucified Christ came to life and said to him: "Go, Francis, and repair my Church in ruins." This simple event of the Word of the Lord heard in the church of San Damiano hides a profound symbolism. Immediately, St. Francis is called to repair this little church, but the ruinous state of this building is a symbol of the tragic and disturbing situation of the Church itself at that time, with a superficial faith that does not form and transform life, with a clergy lacking in zeal, with the cooling off of love; an interior destruction of the Church that also implied a decomposition of unity, with the birth of heretical movements.

However, at the center of this Church in ruins is the Crucified and he speaks: he calls to renewal, he calls Francis to manual labor to repair concretely the little church of San Damiano, symbol of the more profound call to renew the Church of Christ itself, with his radical faith and his enthusiastic love for Christ.

This event, which probably occurred in 1205, makes one think of another similar event that happened in 1207: the dream of Pope Innocent III. He saw in a dream that the Basilica of St. John Lateran, the Mother Church of all churches, was collapsing and a small and insignificant religious supported the church with his shoulders so that it would not collapse. It is interesting to note, on one hand, that it is not the Pope who helps so that the church will not collapse, but a small and insignificant religious, whom the Pope recognizes in Francis who visited him. Innocent III was a powerful Pope, of great theological learning, as well as of great political power, yet it was not for him to renew the Church, but for the small and insignificant religious: It is St. Francis, called by God.

On the other hand, however, it is important to note that St. Francis does not renew the Church without or against the Pope, but only in communion with him. The two realities go together: the Successor of Peter, the bishops, the Church founded on the succession of the Apostles and the new charism that the Holy Spirit created at this moment to renew the Church. True renewal grows together.

Let us return to St. Francis' life. Because his father Bernardone reproved him for excessive generosity to the poor, Francis, with a symbolic gesture, and before the bishop of Assisi, stripped himself of his clothes, thus intending to renounce his paternal inheritance: As at the moment of creation, Francis had nothing, but only the life that God gave him, and into whose hands he entrusted himself. Then he lived as a hermit until, in 1208, another fundamental event took place in the journey of his conversion. Hearing a passage of the Gospel of Matthew -- Jesus' discourse to the Apostles sent on mission -- Francis feels he is called to live in poverty and to dedicate himself to preaching. Other companions associated themselves to him and, in 1209, he went to Rome, to submit to the Pope the project of a new form of Christian life. He was given a paternal reception by the great Pontiff who, enlightened by the Lord, intuited the divine origin of the movement awakened by Francis. The Poverello of Assisi had understood that every charism given by the Holy Spirit is placed at the service of the Body of Christ, which is the Church; hence, he always acted in full communion with the ecclesiastical authority. In the life of saints there is no opposition between a prophetic charism and the charism of government and, if some tension is created, they must wait patiently for the times of the Holy Spirit.

In reality, some historians in the 19th century and also in the last century tried to create behind the Francis of tradition, a so-called historical Francis, just as there is a desire to create behind the Jesus of the Gospels, a so-called historical Jesus. Such a historical Francis would not have been a man of the Church, but a man linked immediately only to Christ, a man who wished to create a renewal of the people of God, without canonical forms and without the hierarchy. The truth is that St. Francis really had a very immediate relationship with Jesus and with the Word of God, which he wished to follow sine glossa, exactly as it is, in all its radicalism and truth. It is also true that initially he did not have the intention of creating an order with the necessary canonical forms, but, simply, with the Word of God and the presence of the Lord, he wished to renew the people of God, to call them again to listening to the Word and to literal obedience to Christ. Moreover, he knew that Christ never is "mine" but always is "ours," that "I" cannot have Christ and "I" cannot reconstruct against the Church, his will and his teaching -- but only in communion with the Church, built on the succession of the Apostles, is obedience to the Word of God also renewed.

It is also true that he did not intend to create a new order, but only to renew the people of God for the Lord who comes. But he understood with suffering and pain that everything must have its order, that even the law of the Church is necessary to give shape to renewal and thus he really inserted himself totally, with the heart, in the communion of the Church, with the Pope and the bishops. He knew always that the center of the Church is the Eucharist, where the Body and Blood of Christ are made present. Through the priesthood, the Eucharist is the Church. Where priesthood, and Christ and communion of the Church go together, only there does the Word of God also dwell. The true historical Francis and the Francis of the Church speaks precisely in this way also to non-believers, to believers of other confessions and religions.

Francis and his friars, ever more numerous, established themselves in the Porziuncola, or church of Saint Mary of the Angels, sacred place par excellence of Franciscan spirituality. Also Clare, a young lady of Assisi of a noble family, placed herself in Francis' school. Thus the Second Franciscan Order originated, that of the Poor Clares, another experience destined to bear outstanding fruits of sanctity in the Church.

The successor of Innocent III, Pope Honorius III, with his bull "Cum dilecti" of 1218, also upheld the singular development of the first Friars Minor, who were opening their missions in several countries of Europe, and even in Morocco. In 1219 Francis obtained permission to go to speak with the Muslim Sultan Melek-el-Kamel in Egypt, and also to preach the Gospel of Jesus there. I want to underline this episode of the life of St. Francis, which is very timely. At a time in which there was under way a clash between Christianity and Islam, Francis, armed deliberately only with his faith and his personal meekness, pursued with efficacy the way of dialogue. The chronicles tell us of a benevolent and cordial reception by the Muslim Sultan. It is a model that also today should inspire relations between Christians and Muslims: to promote a dialogue in truth, in reciprocal respect and in mutual understanding (cf. "Nostra Aetate," 3).

It seems, then, that in 1220 Francis visited the Holy Land, thus sowing a seed that was to bear much fruit: his spiritual sons, in fact, made of the places in which Jesus lived a privileged realm of their mission. With gratitude I think today of the great merits of the Franciscan Custody of the Holy Land.

Returning to Italy, Francis entrusted the government of the order to his vicar, Friar Pietro Cattani, while the Pope entrusted the order, which continued gathering more followers, to the protection of Cardinal Ugolino, the future Supreme Pontiff Gregory IX. For his part the founder, totally dedicated to preaching, which he carried out with great success, wrote a Rule, later approved by the Pope.

In 1224, in the hermitage of La Verna, Francis saw the Crucified in the form of a seraphim and from the encounter with the crucified seraphim, he received the stigmata; he thus became one with the crucified Christ: a gift, hence, which expresses his profound identification with the Lord.

Francis' death -- his transitus -- occurred on the evening of Oct. 3, 1226, at the Porziuncola. After blessing his spiritual sons, he died, lying on the naked earth. Two years later Pope Gregory IX inscribed him in the register of saints. A short time later, a large basilica was raised in Assisi in his honor, still today a destination for very many pilgrims, who can venerate the tomb of the saint and enjoy Giotto's frescoes, a painter who illustrated in a magnificent way the life of Francis.

It has been said that Francis represents an alter Christus, he was truly a living icon of Christ. He was even called "Jesus' brother." Indeed, this was his ideal: to be like Jesus; to contemplate the Christ of the Gospel, to love him intensely and to imitate his virtues. In particular, he wished to give a fundamental value to interior and exterior poverty, teaching it also to his spiritual sons. The first Beatitude of the Sermon on the Mount -- blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven (Matthew 5:3) -- found a luminous fulfillment in the life and in the words of St. Francis.

Truly, dear friends, the saints are the best interpreters of the Bible; they, incarnating in their lives the Word of God, render it more than attractive, so that it really speaks to us. Francis' witness, who loved poverty to follow Christ with dedication and total liberty, continues to be also for us an invitation to cultivate interior poverty to grow in trust of God, uniting also a sober lifestyle and detachment from material goods.

In Francis, love for Christ is expressed in a special way in adoration of the Most Blessed Sacrament of the Eucharist. In Franciscan sources one reads moving expressions, such as this: "The whole of humanity fears, the whole universe trembles and heaven exults, when on the altar, in the hand of the priest, there is Christ, the Son of the living God. O wonderful favor! O sublime humility, that the Lord of the universe, God and Son of God, so humbles himself as to hide himself for our salvation, under the low form of bread" (Francis of Assisi, Scritti, Editrici Francescane, Padua, 2002, 401).

In this Year for Priests, it pleases me also to recall a recommendation addressed by Francis to priests: "When you wish to celebrate Mass, certainly in a pure way, carry out with reverence the true sacrifice of the most holy Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ" (Francis of Assisi, Scritti, 399).

Francis always showed great deference to priests, and recommended that they always be respected, even in the case when, at the personal level, they are not very worthy. He cherished, as motivation for this profound respect, the fact that they have received the gift of consecrating the Eucharist. Dear brothers in the priesthood, let us never forget this teaching: the holiness of the Eucharist asks us to be pure, to live in a consistent way with the mystery we celebrate.

From the love of Christ is born love of people and also of all God's creatures. Here is another characteristic trait of Francis' spirituality: the sense of universal fraternity and love for Creation, which inspired his famous Canticle of Creatures. It is a very timely message. As I reminded in my recent encyclical "Caritas in Veritate," the only sustainable development is one that respects Creation and does not damage the environment (cf. No. 48-52), and in the Message for the World Day of Peace of this year I underlined that also the building of a solid peace is linked to respect for creation. Francis reminds us that in creation is displayed the wisdom and benevolence of the Creator. In fact, nature is understood by him as a language in which God speaks with us, in which reality becomes transparent and we can speak of God and with God.

Dear friends, Francis was a great saint and a joyful man. His simplicity, his humility, his faith, his love of Christ, his kindness to every man and woman made him happy in every situation. In fact, between sanctity and joy there subsists a profound and indissoluble relation. A French writer said that there is only one sadness in the world: that of not being saints, that is, of not being close to God. Looking at St. Francis' witness, we understand that this is the secret of true happiness: to become saints, close to God!

May the Virgin, tenderly loved by Francis, obtain this gift for us. We entrust ourselves to her with the same words of the Poverello of Assisi: "Holy Virgin Mary, there is no one like you born in the world among women, daughter and handmaid of the Most High King and heavenly Father, Mother of our Most Holy Lord Jesus Christ, spouse of the Holy Spirit: pray for us ... to your most holy favorite Son, Lord and Master" (Francis of Assisi, Scritti, 163).

reprinted from Zenit