Celebrating the Birth of Jesus is an awesome event. The event itself, His coming among us in the flesh and His remaining with us until the end of time, is indeed the event that launched a series of events that challenges, enlightens, and sustains our being in this world. He is the ultimate reason for this season and He is the ultimate reason for every season of every moment of world history including the sometimes difficult and mysterious details of each our personal histories, as well as the histories and experiences of every person, culture, civilization, village, town, city and nation on every square foot of every continent.
The time given to me in solitude, which provided greater pockets of stillness for me to surrender to stillness, was both simultaneously a confrontation and a coronation. The confrontation was with the ever-menacing disturbances of the fact and truth of my limitations on every level – mine, yours, the countries, our families, communities, parishes, nations, cultures, generations, centuries, bodies, hearts, minds, souls and on and on.
The coming of Jesus in the flesh - the fact of his coming, the truth and the love, life, and light that He is which unceasingly glows and flows forth from His Mystery as softly as a morning sunrise and sometimes with the incomprehensible force (thanks B16) of a nuclear fission in the very heart of being – has gifted me with a moment of respite, a brief but ever true and real relief from my-our-“the” limited capacity to be loved and to love. The coronation dimension occurred in the midst of the confrontation. Somehow my heart, with all the “issues” connected with the widespread and deep seeded limitation to be loved and love, was kinda crowned with a brief and real serene contentment – the mystery and gift of peace from above while here below – of being held and embraced… a touch of, a gift from the Divine Infant and His Mother and foster father, as the Prince of Peace was in the midst of new difficult and limiting circumstances that did not reduce in any way the incomprehensible measure of His Fullness… This peace from above, the Peace that the world can not give, the Peace that is beyond our understanding, the Peace from the Prince of Peace Himself, this Christmas Peace has come to be with us and stay with us forever…
Regardless of where you are geographically, spiritually, emotionally, physically, financially, economically, along with your families and friends - whatever – make room for this Peace, for this Prince of Peace… It’s waiting for you… He’s waiting for… I’m sending/giving it you this Christmas and always and forever in Jesus and Mary… a very Blessed Christmas to you and all your families and friends… Lord willing talk to ya’ll next week… frstan†...
Thursday, December 29, 2005
Benedict XVI's Christmas Reflection
"May Our Spirits Open to the True Spiritual Light"
Today's audience takes place in an atmosphere of joy and longing expectation of the now imminent Christmas festivity. The Lord Jesus is coming! We repeat these days in prayer, preparing our hearts to experience the joy of the Redeemer's birth. In particular, in this last week of Advent, the liturgy accompanies and supports our interior journey with repeated invitations to receive the Savior, recognizing him in the humble Child lying in a manger.
This is the mystery of Christmas, which we can understand better through so many symbols. Among these symbols is that of light, which is one of the richest in spiritual meaning and on which I would like to reflect briefly.
The feast of Christmas coincides, in our hemisphere, with the time of the year in which the sun ends its descending parabola and begins the phase in which the time of daylight increases gradually, according to the successive course of the seasons. This helps us to understand better the subject of light that prevails over darkness. It is a symbol that evokes a reality that affects man's inner being: I am referring to the light of good that overcomes evil, of love that overcomes hatred, of life that conquers death.
Christmas makes us think of this interior light, of the divine light that presents to us again the proclamation of the definitive victory of the love of God over sin and death. For this reason, in the novena of holy Christmas that we are now living, there are many and significant references to light.
We were also reminded of it by the antiphon sung at the beginning of our meeting. The Savior awaited by the nations is greeted as the Rising Sun, the star that indicates the way and the guide of people, wayfarers amid the darkness and dangers of the world toward the salvation promised by God and realized in Jesus Christ.
In preparing to celebrate the birth of the Savior with joy in our families and ecclesial communities -- while a certain modern and consumer culture tries to make the Christian symbols of the celebration of Christmas disappear -- let us assume the commitment to understand the value of the Christmas traditions, which are part of the patrimony of our faith and our culture, in order to transmit them to the new generations.
In particular, on seeing the streets and squares of our cities adorned with glittering lights, let us remember that these lights evoke another light, invisible to our eyes, but not to our hearts. Contemplating them, when lighting the candles of churches or the Nativity and Christmas tree lights in our homes, may our spirits open to the true spiritual light brought to all men and women of good will. The God with us, born in Bethlehem of the Virgin Mary is the Star of our lives!
"Rising Sun, splendor of eternal light, sun of justice: come, illuminate those who lie in darkness and in the shadows of death." On assuming this invocation of today\'s liturgy, let us pray to the Lord to hasten his glorious coming among us, among all those who are suffering, as only in him can they find the answer to the authentic expectations of the human heart.
May this Star of light that never sets, communicate to us the strength to follow always the path of truth, justice and love! Let us live intensely these days that precede Christmas together with Mary, the Virgin of silence and listening. May she, who was totally enveloped by the light of the Holy Spirit, help us to understand and to live fully the mystery of Christ's Christmas.
With these sentiments, exhorting you to keep alive the interior wonder in the fervent expectation of the now close celebration of the birth of the Lord, with joy I wish all of you here present, your families, your communities, and your loved ones a holy and happy Christmas.
Merry Christmas to all!
Today's audience takes place in an atmosphere of joy and longing expectation of the now imminent Christmas festivity. The Lord Jesus is coming! We repeat these days in prayer, preparing our hearts to experience the joy of the Redeemer's birth. In particular, in this last week of Advent, the liturgy accompanies and supports our interior journey with repeated invitations to receive the Savior, recognizing him in the humble Child lying in a manger.
This is the mystery of Christmas, which we can understand better through so many symbols. Among these symbols is that of light, which is one of the richest in spiritual meaning and on which I would like to reflect briefly.
The feast of Christmas coincides, in our hemisphere, with the time of the year in which the sun ends its descending parabola and begins the phase in which the time of daylight increases gradually, according to the successive course of the seasons. This helps us to understand better the subject of light that prevails over darkness. It is a symbol that evokes a reality that affects man's inner being: I am referring to the light of good that overcomes evil, of love that overcomes hatred, of life that conquers death.
Christmas makes us think of this interior light, of the divine light that presents to us again the proclamation of the definitive victory of the love of God over sin and death. For this reason, in the novena of holy Christmas that we are now living, there are many and significant references to light.
We were also reminded of it by the antiphon sung at the beginning of our meeting. The Savior awaited by the nations is greeted as the Rising Sun, the star that indicates the way and the guide of people, wayfarers amid the darkness and dangers of the world toward the salvation promised by God and realized in Jesus Christ.
In preparing to celebrate the birth of the Savior with joy in our families and ecclesial communities -- while a certain modern and consumer culture tries to make the Christian symbols of the celebration of Christmas disappear -- let us assume the commitment to understand the value of the Christmas traditions, which are part of the patrimony of our faith and our culture, in order to transmit them to the new generations.
In particular, on seeing the streets and squares of our cities adorned with glittering lights, let us remember that these lights evoke another light, invisible to our eyes, but not to our hearts. Contemplating them, when lighting the candles of churches or the Nativity and Christmas tree lights in our homes, may our spirits open to the true spiritual light brought to all men and women of good will. The God with us, born in Bethlehem of the Virgin Mary is the Star of our lives!
"Rising Sun, splendor of eternal light, sun of justice: come, illuminate those who lie in darkness and in the shadows of death." On assuming this invocation of today\'s liturgy, let us pray to the Lord to hasten his glorious coming among us, among all those who are suffering, as only in him can they find the answer to the authentic expectations of the human heart.
May this Star of light that never sets, communicate to us the strength to follow always the path of truth, justice and love! Let us live intensely these days that precede Christmas together with Mary, the Virgin of silence and listening. May she, who was totally enveloped by the light of the Holy Spirit, help us to understand and to live fully the mystery of Christ's Christmas.
With these sentiments, exhorting you to keep alive the interior wonder in the fervent expectation of the now close celebration of the birth of the Lord, with joy I wish all of you here present, your families, your communities, and your loved ones a holy and happy Christmas.
Merry Christmas to all!
JPII on Christmas 1997
THE TIME OF THE GOSPEL OPENS THE DOOR TO A DEEP KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST
At the General Audience of Wednesday 17 December 1997.
The entrance of eternity into time through the mystery of the Incarnation makes Christ's whole life on earth an exceptional period. The span of this life is a unique time, a time for the fullness of Revelation, in which the eternal God speaks to us in his incarnate Word through the veil of his human existence. It is the time that will remain for ever as a normative point of reference: the time of the Gospel. All Christians recognise it as the time from which their faith begins.
It is the time of a human life that changed all human lives. Christ's live was rather short; but its intensity and value are beyond compare. We stand before the greatest wealth for human history. An inexhaustible richness, because it is the wealth of eternity and divinity. Those who lived in Jesus' time and had the joy of being close to him, seeing him and hearing him were particularly fortunate. Jesus himself calls thm blessed: «Blessed as the eyes which see what you see! For I tell you that many prophets and kings desired to see what you see, and did not see it, and to hear what you hear, and did not hear it» (Lk 10:23-24).
The formula «I tell you» makes it clear that the affirmation goes beyond mere observation of a historical fact. What Jesus says is a word of revelation which sheds light on the profound meaning of history. In the past that precedes him, Jesus does not only see the external events that prepare his coming; he looks at the deep aspirations of hearts which underlie those events and anticipate their final outcome. The majority of Jesus' contemporaries are unaware of their privilege. They see and hear the Messiah without recognising him as the Saviour for whom they hoped. They address him without realising they are speaking to God's Anointed foretold by the prophets.
In saying: «what you see», «what you hear», Jesus invites them to perceive the mystery, going beyond the veil of the senses. He helps his disciples especially to penetrate it: «To you has been given the secret of the kingdom of God» (Mk 4:11). Our faith, based precisely on the disciples' witness, is rooted in their gradual discovery of the mystery. We do not have the privilege of seeing and hearing Jesus, as was possible during the time of his earthly life, but with faith we receive the immeasurable grace of entering into the mystery of Christ and his kingdom. The time of the Gospel opens the door to a deep knowledge of Christ's person. In this regard, we can recall Jesus' sad rebuke to Philip: «Have I been with you so long and yet you do not know me, Philip?» (Jn 14:9). Jesus expected a penetrating knowledge full of love from the one who, as an Apostle, lived in a very close relationship with the Teacher and, precisely because of this intimacy, should have understood that the Father's face was revealed in him: «He who has seen me has seen the Father» (ibid.). With the eyes of faith the disciple is called to discover the invisible face of the Father in Christ's face.
Pope John Paul II
At the General Audience of Wednesday 17 December 1997.
The entrance of eternity into time through the mystery of the Incarnation makes Christ's whole life on earth an exceptional period. The span of this life is a unique time, a time for the fullness of Revelation, in which the eternal God speaks to us in his incarnate Word through the veil of his human existence. It is the time that will remain for ever as a normative point of reference: the time of the Gospel. All Christians recognise it as the time from which their faith begins.
It is the time of a human life that changed all human lives. Christ's live was rather short; but its intensity and value are beyond compare. We stand before the greatest wealth for human history. An inexhaustible richness, because it is the wealth of eternity and divinity. Those who lived in Jesus' time and had the joy of being close to him, seeing him and hearing him were particularly fortunate. Jesus himself calls thm blessed: «Blessed as the eyes which see what you see! For I tell you that many prophets and kings desired to see what you see, and did not see it, and to hear what you hear, and did not hear it» (Lk 10:23-24).
The formula «I tell you» makes it clear that the affirmation goes beyond mere observation of a historical fact. What Jesus says is a word of revelation which sheds light on the profound meaning of history. In the past that precedes him, Jesus does not only see the external events that prepare his coming; he looks at the deep aspirations of hearts which underlie those events and anticipate their final outcome. The majority of Jesus' contemporaries are unaware of their privilege. They see and hear the Messiah without recognising him as the Saviour for whom they hoped. They address him without realising they are speaking to God's Anointed foretold by the prophets.
In saying: «what you see», «what you hear», Jesus invites them to perceive the mystery, going beyond the veil of the senses. He helps his disciples especially to penetrate it: «To you has been given the secret of the kingdom of God» (Mk 4:11). Our faith, based precisely on the disciples' witness, is rooted in their gradual discovery of the mystery. We do not have the privilege of seeing and hearing Jesus, as was possible during the time of his earthly life, but with faith we receive the immeasurable grace of entering into the mystery of Christ and his kingdom. The time of the Gospel opens the door to a deep knowledge of Christ's person. In this regard, we can recall Jesus' sad rebuke to Philip: «Have I been with you so long and yet you do not know me, Philip?» (Jn 14:9). Jesus expected a penetrating knowledge full of love from the one who, as an Apostle, lived in a very close relationship with the Teacher and, precisely because of this intimacy, should have understood that the Father's face was revealed in him: «He who has seen me has seen the Father» (ibid.). With the eyes of faith the disciple is called to discover the invisible face of the Father in Christ's face.
Pope John Paul II
Benedict XVI's Homily at Midnight Mass
"In That Child Lying in the Stable, God Has Shown His Glory"
"The Lord said to me: You are my son; this day I have begotten you." With these words of the second Psalm, the Church begins the Vigil Mass of Christmas, at which we celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ our Redeemer in a stable in Bethlehem. This psalm was once a part of the coronation rite of the kings of Judah. The people of Israel, in virtue of its election, considered itself in a special way a son of God, adopted by God. Just as the king was the personification of the people, his enthronement was experienced as a solemn act of adoption by God, whereby the king was in some way taken up into the very mystery of God. [On] Bethlehem Night, these words, which were really more an expression of hope than a present reality, took on new and unexpected meaning. The Child lying in the manger is truly God's Son. God is not eternal solitude but rather a circle of love and mutual self-giving. He is Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
But there is more: In Jesus Christ, the Son of God, God himself became man. To him the Father says: "You are my son." God's everlasting "today" has come down into the fleeting today of the world and lifted our momentary today into God's eternal today. God is so great that he can become small. God is so powerful that he can make himself vulnerable and come to us as a defenseless child, so that we can love him. God is so good that he can give up his divine splendor and come down to a stable, so that we might find him, so that his goodness might touch us, give itself to us and continue to work through us. This is Christmas: "You are my son, this day I have begotten you."
God has become one of us, so that we can be with him and become like him. As a sign, he chose the Child lying in the manger: This is how God is. This is how we come to know him. And on every child shines something of the splendor of that "today," of that closeness of God which we ought to love and to which we must yield -- it shines on every child, even on those still unborn.
Let us listen to a second phrase from the liturgy of this holy night, one taken from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah: "Upon the people who walked in darkness a great light has shone" (Isaiah 9:1). The word "light" pervades the entire liturgy of tonight's Mass. It is found again in the passage drawn from St. Paul's letter to Titus: "The grace of God has appeared" (2:11). The expression "has appeared," in the original Greek says the same thing that was expressed in Hebrew by the words "a light has shone": this "apparition" -- this "epiphany" -- is the breaking of God's light upon a world full of darkness and unsolved problems. The Gospel then relates that the glory of the Lord appeared to the shepherds and "shone around them" (Luke 2:9). Wherever God's glory appears, light spreads throughout the world. St. John tells us that "God is light and in him is no darkness" (1 John 1:5). The light is a source of life.
But first, light means knowledge; it means truth, as contrasted with the darkness of falsehood and ignorance. Light gives us life, it shows us the way. But light, as a source of heat, also means love. Where there is love, light shines forth in the world; where there is hatred, the world remains in darkness. In the stable of Bethlehem there appeared the great light which the world awaits. In that Child lying in the stable, God has shown his glory -- the glory of love, which gives itself away, stripping itself of all grandeur in order to guide us along the way of love. The light of Bethlehem has never been extinguished. In every age it has touched men and women, "it has shone around them."
Wherever people put their faith in that Child, charity also sprang up -- charity toward others, loving concern for the weak and the suffering, the grace of forgiveness. From Bethlehem a stream of light, love and truth spreads through the centuries. If we look to the saints -- from Paul and Augustine to Francis and Dominic, from Francis Xavier and Teresa of Avila to Mother Teresa of Calcutta -- we see this flood of goodness, this path of light kindled ever anew by the mystery of Bethlehem, by that God who became a Child. In that Child, God countered the violence of this world with his own goodness. He calls us to follow that Child.
Along with the Christmas tree, our Austrian friends have also brought us a small flame lit in Bethlehem, as if to say that the true mystery of Christmas is the inner brightness radiating from this Child. May that inner brightness spread to us, and kindle in our hearts the flame of God's goodness; may all of us, by our love, bring light to the world! Let us keep this light-giving flame from being extinguished by the cold winds of our time! Let us guard it faithfully and give it to others! On this night, when we look toward Bethlehem, let us pray in a special way for the birthplace of our Redeemer and for the men and women who live and suffer there. We wish to pray for peace in the Holy Land: Look, O Lord, upon this corner of the earth, your homeland, which is so very dear to you! Let your light shine upon it! Let it know peace!
The word "peace" brings us to a third key to the liturgy of this holy night. The Child foretold by Isaiah is called "Prince of Peace." His kingdom is said to be one "of endless peace." The shepherds in the Gospel hear the glad tidings: "Glory to God in the highest" and "on earth, peace ...." At one time we used to say: "to men of good will." Nowadays we say "to those whom God loves." What does this change mean? Is good will no longer important? We would do better to ask: Who are those whom God loves, and why does he love them? Does God have favorites? Does he love only certain people, while abandoning the others to themselves?
The Gospel answers these questions by pointing to some particular people whom God loves. There are individuals, like Mary, Joseph, Elizabeth, Zechariah, Simeon and Anna. But there are also two groups of people: the shepherds and the wise men from the East, the "Magi." Tonight let us look at the shepherds. What kind of people were they? In the world of their time, shepherds were looked down upon; they were considered untrustworthy and not admitted as witnesses in court. But really, who were they? To be sure, they were not great saints, if by that word we mean people of heroic virtue. They were simple souls. The Gospel sheds light on one feature which later on, in the words of Jesus, would take on particular importance: They were people who were watchful. This was chiefly true in a superficial way: They kept watch over their flocks by night. But it was also true in a deeper way: They were ready to receive God's word. Their life was not closed in on itself; their hearts were open. In some way, deep down, they were waiting for him.
Their watchfulness was a kind of readiness -- a readiness to listen and to set out. They were waiting for a light which would show them the way. That is what is important for God. He loves everyone, because everyone is his creature. But some persons have closed their hearts; there is no door by which his love can enter. They think that they do not need God, nor do they want him. Other persons, who, from a moral standpoint, are perhaps no less wretched and sinful, at least experience a certain remorse. They are waiting for God. They realize that they need his goodness, even if they have no clear idea of what this means. Into their expectant hearts God's light can enter, and with it, his peace. God seeks persons who can be vessels and heralds of his peace. Let us pray that he will not find our hearts closed. Let us strive to be active heralds of his peace -- in the world of today.
Among Christians, the word "peace" has taken on a very particular meaning: It has become a name for the Eucharist. There Christ's peace is present. In all the places where the Eucharist is celebrated, a great network of peace spreads through the world. The communities gathered around the Eucharist make up a kingdom of peace as wide as the world itself. When we celebrate the Eucharist we find ourselves in Bethlehem, in the "house of bread." Christ gives himself to us and, in doing so, gives us his peace. He gives it to us so that we can carry the light of peace within and give it to others. He gives it to us so that we can become peacemakers and builders of peace in the world. And so we pray: Lord, fulfill your promise! Where there is conflict, give birth to peace! Where there is hatred, make love spring up! Where darkness prevails, let light shine! Make us heralds of your peace! Amen.
"The Lord said to me: You are my son; this day I have begotten you." With these words of the second Psalm, the Church begins the Vigil Mass of Christmas, at which we celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ our Redeemer in a stable in Bethlehem. This psalm was once a part of the coronation rite of the kings of Judah. The people of Israel, in virtue of its election, considered itself in a special way a son of God, adopted by God. Just as the king was the personification of the people, his enthronement was experienced as a solemn act of adoption by God, whereby the king was in some way taken up into the very mystery of God. [On] Bethlehem Night, these words, which were really more an expression of hope than a present reality, took on new and unexpected meaning. The Child lying in the manger is truly God's Son. God is not eternal solitude but rather a circle of love and mutual self-giving. He is Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
But there is more: In Jesus Christ, the Son of God, God himself became man. To him the Father says: "You are my son." God's everlasting "today" has come down into the fleeting today of the world and lifted our momentary today into God's eternal today. God is so great that he can become small. God is so powerful that he can make himself vulnerable and come to us as a defenseless child, so that we can love him. God is so good that he can give up his divine splendor and come down to a stable, so that we might find him, so that his goodness might touch us, give itself to us and continue to work through us. This is Christmas: "You are my son, this day I have begotten you."
God has become one of us, so that we can be with him and become like him. As a sign, he chose the Child lying in the manger: This is how God is. This is how we come to know him. And on every child shines something of the splendor of that "today," of that closeness of God which we ought to love and to which we must yield -- it shines on every child, even on those still unborn.
Let us listen to a second phrase from the liturgy of this holy night, one taken from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah: "Upon the people who walked in darkness a great light has shone" (Isaiah 9:1). The word "light" pervades the entire liturgy of tonight's Mass. It is found again in the passage drawn from St. Paul's letter to Titus: "The grace of God has appeared" (2:11). The expression "has appeared," in the original Greek says the same thing that was expressed in Hebrew by the words "a light has shone": this "apparition" -- this "epiphany" -- is the breaking of God's light upon a world full of darkness and unsolved problems. The Gospel then relates that the glory of the Lord appeared to the shepherds and "shone around them" (Luke 2:9). Wherever God's glory appears, light spreads throughout the world. St. John tells us that "God is light and in him is no darkness" (1 John 1:5). The light is a source of life.
But first, light means knowledge; it means truth, as contrasted with the darkness of falsehood and ignorance. Light gives us life, it shows us the way. But light, as a source of heat, also means love. Where there is love, light shines forth in the world; where there is hatred, the world remains in darkness. In the stable of Bethlehem there appeared the great light which the world awaits. In that Child lying in the stable, God has shown his glory -- the glory of love, which gives itself away, stripping itself of all grandeur in order to guide us along the way of love. The light of Bethlehem has never been extinguished. In every age it has touched men and women, "it has shone around them."
Wherever people put their faith in that Child, charity also sprang up -- charity toward others, loving concern for the weak and the suffering, the grace of forgiveness. From Bethlehem a stream of light, love and truth spreads through the centuries. If we look to the saints -- from Paul and Augustine to Francis and Dominic, from Francis Xavier and Teresa of Avila to Mother Teresa of Calcutta -- we see this flood of goodness, this path of light kindled ever anew by the mystery of Bethlehem, by that God who became a Child. In that Child, God countered the violence of this world with his own goodness. He calls us to follow that Child.
Along with the Christmas tree, our Austrian friends have also brought us a small flame lit in Bethlehem, as if to say that the true mystery of Christmas is the inner brightness radiating from this Child. May that inner brightness spread to us, and kindle in our hearts the flame of God's goodness; may all of us, by our love, bring light to the world! Let us keep this light-giving flame from being extinguished by the cold winds of our time! Let us guard it faithfully and give it to others! On this night, when we look toward Bethlehem, let us pray in a special way for the birthplace of our Redeemer and for the men and women who live and suffer there. We wish to pray for peace in the Holy Land: Look, O Lord, upon this corner of the earth, your homeland, which is so very dear to you! Let your light shine upon it! Let it know peace!
The word "peace" brings us to a third key to the liturgy of this holy night. The Child foretold by Isaiah is called "Prince of Peace." His kingdom is said to be one "of endless peace." The shepherds in the Gospel hear the glad tidings: "Glory to God in the highest" and "on earth, peace ...." At one time we used to say: "to men of good will." Nowadays we say "to those whom God loves." What does this change mean? Is good will no longer important? We would do better to ask: Who are those whom God loves, and why does he love them? Does God have favorites? Does he love only certain people, while abandoning the others to themselves?
The Gospel answers these questions by pointing to some particular people whom God loves. There are individuals, like Mary, Joseph, Elizabeth, Zechariah, Simeon and Anna. But there are also two groups of people: the shepherds and the wise men from the East, the "Magi." Tonight let us look at the shepherds. What kind of people were they? In the world of their time, shepherds were looked down upon; they were considered untrustworthy and not admitted as witnesses in court. But really, who were they? To be sure, they were not great saints, if by that word we mean people of heroic virtue. They were simple souls. The Gospel sheds light on one feature which later on, in the words of Jesus, would take on particular importance: They were people who were watchful. This was chiefly true in a superficial way: They kept watch over their flocks by night. But it was also true in a deeper way: They were ready to receive God's word. Their life was not closed in on itself; their hearts were open. In some way, deep down, they were waiting for him.
Their watchfulness was a kind of readiness -- a readiness to listen and to set out. They were waiting for a light which would show them the way. That is what is important for God. He loves everyone, because everyone is his creature. But some persons have closed their hearts; there is no door by which his love can enter. They think that they do not need God, nor do they want him. Other persons, who, from a moral standpoint, are perhaps no less wretched and sinful, at least experience a certain remorse. They are waiting for God. They realize that they need his goodness, even if they have no clear idea of what this means. Into their expectant hearts God's light can enter, and with it, his peace. God seeks persons who can be vessels and heralds of his peace. Let us pray that he will not find our hearts closed. Let us strive to be active heralds of his peace -- in the world of today.
Among Christians, the word "peace" has taken on a very particular meaning: It has become a name for the Eucharist. There Christ's peace is present. In all the places where the Eucharist is celebrated, a great network of peace spreads through the world. The communities gathered around the Eucharist make up a kingdom of peace as wide as the world itself. When we celebrate the Eucharist we find ourselves in Bethlehem, in the "house of bread." Christ gives himself to us and, in doing so, gives us his peace. He gives it to us so that we can carry the light of peace within and give it to others. He gives it to us so that we can become peacemakers and builders of peace in the world. And so we pray: Lord, fulfill your promise! Where there is conflict, give birth to peace! Where there is hatred, make love spring up! Where darkness prevails, let light shine! Make us heralds of your peace! Amen.
Benedict XVI's Christmas Message
"By Knocking at Our Door, God Challenges Us and Our Freedom"
"I bring you good news of a great joy … for to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord" (Luke 2:10-11).
Last night we heard once more the Angel's message to the shepherds, and we experienced anew the atmosphere of that holy night, Bethlehem Night, when the Son of God became man, was born in a lowly stable and dwelt among us. On this solemn day, the Angel's proclamation rings out once again, inviting us, the men and women of the third millennium, to welcome the Savior. May the people of today's world not hesitate to let him enter their homes, their cities, their nations, everywhere on earth!
In the millennium just past, and especially in the last centuries, immense progress was made in the areas of technology and science. Today we can dispose of vast material resources. But the men and women in our technological age risk becoming victims of their own intellectual and technical achievements, ending up in spiritual barrenness and emptiness of heart. That is why it is so important for us to open our minds and hearts to the Birth of Christ, this event of salvation which can give new hope to the life of each human being.
Wake up, O man! For your sake God became man" (St. Augustine, "Sermo," 185). Wake up, O men and women of the third millennium! At Christmas, the Almighty becomes a child and asks for our help and protection. His way of showing that he is God challenges our way of being human. By knocking at our door, he challenges us and our freedom; he calls us to examine how we understand and live our lives.
The modern age is often seen as an awakening of reason from its slumbers, humanity's enlightenment after an age of darkness. Yet without the light of Christ, the light of reason is not sufficient to enlighten humanity and the world. For this reason, the words of the Christmas Gospel: "the true Light that enlightens every man was coming into this world" (John 1:9) resound now more than ever as a proclamation of salvation. "It is only in the mystery of the Word made flesh that the mystery of humanity truly becomes clear" ("Gaudium et Spes," No. 22). The Church does not tire of repeating this message of hope reaffirmed by the Second Vatican Council, which concluded 40 years ago.
Men and women of today, humanity come of age yet often still so frail in mind and will, let the Child of Bethlehem take you by the hand! Do not fear; put your trust in him! The life-giving power of his light is an incentive for building a new world order based on just ethical and economic relationships. May his love guide every people on earth and strengthen their common consciousness of being a "family" called to foster relationships of trust and mutual support. A united humanity will be able to confront the many troubling problems of the present time: from the menace of terrorism to the humiliating poverty in which millions of human beings live, from the proliferation of weapons to the pandemics and the environmental destruction which threatens the future of our planet.
May the God who became man out of love for humanity strengthen all those in Africa who work for peace, integral development and the prevention of fratricidal conflicts, for the consolidation of the present, still fragile political transitions, and the protection of the most elementary rights of those experiencing tragic humanitarian crises, such as those in Darfur and in other regions of central Africa. May he lead the peoples of Latin America to live in peace and harmony. May he grant courage to people of good will in the Holy Land, in Iraq, in Lebanon, where signs of hope, which are not lacking, need to be confirmed by actions inspired by fairness and wisdom; may he favor the process of dialogue on the Korean peninsula and elsewhere in the countries of Asia, so that, by the settlement of dangerous disputes, consistent and peaceful conclusions can be reached in a spirit of friendship, conclusions which their peoples expectantly await.
At Christmas we contemplate God made man, divine glory hidden beneath the poverty of a Child wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger; the Creator of the Universe reduced to the helplessness of an infant. Once we accept this paradox, we discover the Truth that sets us free and the Love that transforms our lives. On Bethlehem Night, the Redeemer becomes one of us, our companion along the precarious paths of history. Let us take the hand which he stretches out to us: It is a hand which seeks to take nothing from us, but only to give.
With the shepherds let us enter the stable of Bethlehem beneath the loving gaze of Mary, the silent witness of his miraculous birth. May she help us to experience the happiness of Christmas, may she teach us how to treasure in our hearts the mystery of God who for our sake became man; and may she help us to bear witness in our world to his truth, his love and his peace.
"I bring you good news of a great joy … for to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord" (Luke 2:10-11).
Last night we heard once more the Angel's message to the shepherds, and we experienced anew the atmosphere of that holy night, Bethlehem Night, when the Son of God became man, was born in a lowly stable and dwelt among us. On this solemn day, the Angel's proclamation rings out once again, inviting us, the men and women of the third millennium, to welcome the Savior. May the people of today's world not hesitate to let him enter their homes, their cities, their nations, everywhere on earth!
In the millennium just past, and especially in the last centuries, immense progress was made in the areas of technology and science. Today we can dispose of vast material resources. But the men and women in our technological age risk becoming victims of their own intellectual and technical achievements, ending up in spiritual barrenness and emptiness of heart. That is why it is so important for us to open our minds and hearts to the Birth of Christ, this event of salvation which can give new hope to the life of each human being.
Wake up, O man! For your sake God became man" (St. Augustine, "Sermo," 185). Wake up, O men and women of the third millennium! At Christmas, the Almighty becomes a child and asks for our help and protection. His way of showing that he is God challenges our way of being human. By knocking at our door, he challenges us and our freedom; he calls us to examine how we understand and live our lives.
The modern age is often seen as an awakening of reason from its slumbers, humanity's enlightenment after an age of darkness. Yet without the light of Christ, the light of reason is not sufficient to enlighten humanity and the world. For this reason, the words of the Christmas Gospel: "the true Light that enlightens every man was coming into this world" (John 1:9) resound now more than ever as a proclamation of salvation. "It is only in the mystery of the Word made flesh that the mystery of humanity truly becomes clear" ("Gaudium et Spes," No. 22). The Church does not tire of repeating this message of hope reaffirmed by the Second Vatican Council, which concluded 40 years ago.
Men and women of today, humanity come of age yet often still so frail in mind and will, let the Child of Bethlehem take you by the hand! Do not fear; put your trust in him! The life-giving power of his light is an incentive for building a new world order based on just ethical and economic relationships. May his love guide every people on earth and strengthen their common consciousness of being a "family" called to foster relationships of trust and mutual support. A united humanity will be able to confront the many troubling problems of the present time: from the menace of terrorism to the humiliating poverty in which millions of human beings live, from the proliferation of weapons to the pandemics and the environmental destruction which threatens the future of our planet.
May the God who became man out of love for humanity strengthen all those in Africa who work for peace, integral development and the prevention of fratricidal conflicts, for the consolidation of the present, still fragile political transitions, and the protection of the most elementary rights of those experiencing tragic humanitarian crises, such as those in Darfur and in other regions of central Africa. May he lead the peoples of Latin America to live in peace and harmony. May he grant courage to people of good will in the Holy Land, in Iraq, in Lebanon, where signs of hope, which are not lacking, need to be confirmed by actions inspired by fairness and wisdom; may he favor the process of dialogue on the Korean peninsula and elsewhere in the countries of Asia, so that, by the settlement of dangerous disputes, consistent and peaceful conclusions can be reached in a spirit of friendship, conclusions which their peoples expectantly await.
At Christmas we contemplate God made man, divine glory hidden beneath the poverty of a Child wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger; the Creator of the Universe reduced to the helplessness of an infant. Once we accept this paradox, we discover the Truth that sets us free and the Love that transforms our lives. On Bethlehem Night, the Redeemer becomes one of us, our companion along the precarious paths of history. Let us take the hand which he stretches out to us: It is a hand which seeks to take nothing from us, but only to give.
With the shepherds let us enter the stable of Bethlehem beneath the loving gaze of Mary, the silent witness of his miraculous birth. May she help us to experience the happiness of Christmas, may she teach us how to treasure in our hearts the mystery of God who for our sake became man; and may she help us to bear witness in our world to his truth, his love and his peace.
Monday, December 19, 2005
Benedict XVI on the figure of St. Joseph
His Silence Shows "Fullness of Faith"Dear brothers and sisters!
In these days of Advent, the liturgy invites us to contemplate in a special way the Virgin Mary and St. Joseph, who lived with a unique intensity the time of waiting and preparation for the birth of Jesus. Today I want to direct our gaze toward the figure of St. Joseph. In today's Gospel, St. Luke presents the Virgin Mary as "betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the house of David," (Luke 1:27). Yet, the one who gives the most importance to the adoptive father of Jesus is the Evangelist Matthew, emphasizing that, thanks to him, the Child was legally introduced into the lineage of David, fulfilling the Scriptures, in which the Messiah was prophesized as the "son of David."
But the role of Joseph could not be reduced to this legal aspect. He is the model of a "righteous" man (Matthew 1:19), who in perfect harmony with his spouse welcomes the Son of God made man and watches over his human growth. Hence, in these days the precede Christmas, it is particularly fitting to establish a kind of spiritual dialogue with St. Joseph so that he helps us live to the fullest this mystery of faith.
The beloved Pope John Paul II, who was very devoted to St. Joseph, left us an admirable meditation dedicated to him in the apostolic exhortation "Redemptoris Custos" (Custodian of the Redeemer). Among the many aspects that he emphasized, he dedicates a particular importance to the silence of St. Joseph. His silence is permeated with the contemplation of the mystery of God, in an attitude of total availability to the divine will.
In other words, the silence of St. Joseph does not demonstrate an empty interior, but rather the fullness of faith that he carries in his heart, and that guides each of his thoughts and actions. A silence through which Joseph, together with Mary, guard the Word of God, known through sacred Scripture, comparing it continually to the events of the life of Jesus; a silence interwoven with constant prayer, a prayer of blessing of the Lord, of adoration of his holy will and of boundless confidence in his providence. It is not exaggerated to say that Jesus will learn -- on a human level -- precisely from "father" Joseph this intense interior life, which is the condition of authentic righteousness, the "interior righteousness," which one day he will teach to his disciples (cf. Matthew 5:20).
Let's allow ourselves to be "infected" by the silence of St. Joseph! It is so lacking in this world which is often too noisy, which is not favorable to recollection and listening to the voice of God. In this time of preparation for Christmas, let us cultivate interior recollection so as to receive and keep Jesus in our lives.
Friday, December 16, 2005
Benedict XVI comments on Psalm 138 (139): 1-12
"A Song of Confidence: God Is Always With Us"1. In two distinct moments, the Liturgy of Vespers -- on whose psalms and canticles we are meditating -- proposes to us the reading of a sapiential hymn of transparent beauty and of intense emotional impact, Psalm 138(139). Before us we have today the first part of the composition (cf. 1-12), that is to say, the two first stanzas that exalt, respectively, the omniscience of God (cf. 1-6) and his omnipresence in space and time (cf. 7-12).
The vigor of the images and the expressions have as their objective the celebration of the creator: "If the created works are so great," affirmed Theodoret of Cyrus, a Christian writer of the fifth century, "how great the creator must then be!" ("Discorsi sulla Provvidenza," 4: "Collana di Testi Patristici," LXXV [Discourse on Providence: Compilation of Patristic Texts] Roma 1988, p. 115). The meditation of the psalmist seeks above all to penetrate into the mystery of the transcendent God, who at the same time is close to us.
2. The essence of the message that is presented to us is clear: God knows everything and he is with his creature, and it is not possible to elude him. His presence is not threatening nor controlling, even though his gaze certainly is grave when looking on evil, before which he is not indifferent.
Nonetheless, his fundamental element is of a salvific presence, capable embracing all of being and all of history. In short, it is the spiritual setting to which St. Paul alludes when speaking in the Areopagus of Athens, when he quoted a Greek poet: "In him we live and move and have our being" (Acts 17:28).
3. The first passage (cf. Psalm 138[139]:1-6), as he says, is the celebration of the divine omnipresence: In fact, the verbs of knowledge such as "to probe," "to be familiar with," "to understand," "to distinguish" and "to know" are repeated. As is it known, biblical knowledge goes much further than mere intellectual learning and understanding; it is a type of communion between the knower and the known: The Lord is, therefore, intimate with us, in our thoughts and actions.
The second passage of the psalm is dedicated to the divine omnipresence (cf. verses 7-12). In this verse, the illusory will of man to elude the presence of God is described in a palpitating way. All of space is embraced: above all, the vertical axis of "heaven-abyss" (cf. verse 8), and then the horizontal dimension, everything from the dawn, that is to say, from the East, to "beyond the sea," the Mediterranean, that is to say, the West (cf. verse 9). In each one of these spheres of space, including the most secret, God is actively present.
The psalmist also introduces the other reality in which we are submerged, time, symbolically represented by night and light, shadows and day (cf. verses 11-12). Even darkness, in which it is difficult to advance and see, is penetrated by the gaze and by the presence the Lord of being and of time. He is always willing to take us by the hand to guide us on our earthly path (cf. verse 10). Therefore, it is not a closeness of a judge that provokes terror, but rather of support and freedom.
In this way, we are able to understand the ultimate, essential content of this psalm. It is a song of confidence: God is always with us. Even in the dark nights of our life, he does not abandon us. Even in the difficult moments, he is present. And even in the final night, in the final solitude in which no one will be able to accompany us, in the night of death, the Lord does not abandon us. He accompanies us, as well, in this last solitude of the night of death. And for this reason, as Christians, we can be confident: We are never alone. The goodness of God is always with us.
4. We began with a quote of the Christian writer Theodoret of Cyrus. We end now commending ourselves to him and to his "Fourth Discourse on Providence," for this is definitively the theme of the psalm. He reflects on verse 6, in which the psalmist exclaims: "Such knowledge is beyond me, far too lofty for me to reach." Theodoret comments on this passage analyzing in depth in the interior of his conscience and personal experience and affirms: "Recollected and entering into my own intimacy, removing myself from external murmuring, I wanted to submerge myself in the contemplation of my nature. ... Reflecting on this and thinking of the harmony between mortal and immortal nature, I was startled by such wonder, and when I could not contemplate this mystery, I recognized my failure; and what's more, while I proclaim the victory of the knowledge of the Creator, and sing to him songs of praise, I cry: 'Such knowledge is beyond me, far too lofty for me to reach'" ("Collana di Testi Patristici" [Compilation of Patristic Texts] LXXV, Rome, 1988, pp. 116, 117).
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
Benedict XVI on the real spirit of Christmas
"The Crib Can Help Us"Dear Brothers and Sisters:
After celebrating the solemnity of Mary's Immaculate Conception, we enter these days in the evocative atmosphere of preparations for this coming holy Christmas. In the present-day consumer society, this period suffers, unfortunately, a sort of commercial "contamination," which runs the risk of altering its authentic spirit, characterized by recollection, sobriety, a joy that is not exterior but profound.
Therefore, it is providential that, as a door of entrance to Christmas, the feast exists of the Mother of Jesus, who better than any one, can guide us to know, love and worship the Son of God made man. Therefore, let us allow her to accompany us; may her sentiments encourage us to predispose ourselves with sincerity of heart and openness of spirit to recognize the Son of God in the Child of Bethlehem, come to earth for our redemption. Let us walk with her in prayer and accept the reiterated invitation addressed to us by the Advent liturgy to remain in expectation, in a vigilant and joyful expectation, as the Lord will not delay: He comes to deliver his people from sin.
Continuing a beautiful and consolidated tradition, in many families the crib begins to be prepared, as if to relive with Mary these days full of trepidation that preceded Jesus' birth. To set up the crib at home can be a simple but effective way of presenting the faith and transmitting it to one's children. The manger helps us to contemplate the mystery of God's love who revealed himself in the poverty and simplicity of the Bethlehem cave.
St. Francis of Assisi was so overwhelmed by the mystery of the Incarnation, that he wanted to present it again in Greccio with the living manger, thus becoming the initiator of a long popular tradition which still keeps its value for evangelization today.
The crib can help us, in fact, to understand the secret of the true Christmas, because it speaks of humility and the merciful goodness of Christ, who "though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor" (2 Corinthians 8:9). His poverty enriches those who embrace it and Christmas brings joy and peace to those who, as the shepherds, accept in Bethlehem the words of the angel: "And this will be a sign for you: you will find an infant wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger" (Luke 2:12). It continues to be a sign also for us, men and women of the 21st century. There is no other Christmas.
As our beloved John Paul II did, in a few moments I will also bless the images of the Child Jesus that the children of Rome will place in the crib in their homes. With this gesture, I want to invoke the Lord's help so that all Christian families will prepare to celebrate with faith the forthcoming Christmas feasts. May Mary help us to enter into the genuine spirit of Christmas.
Annunciation - Mary as a model disciple
In Luke’s Gospel Jesus says that those who hear the word of God and keep it are blessed and are included in his family of disciples (see Luke 8:21).This is why many scholars—Catholic and Protestant alike—recognize Mary as the first Christian disciple and a model follower of Jesus.Mary fits this description better than anyone else in Luke’s Gospel. From the very beginning she accepts God’s word from the angel Gabriel and calls herself the servant of the Lord. In subsequent scenes we will see that Mary responds promptly to her relative Elizabeth’s needs as soon as she learns from Gabriel that Elizabeth is pregnant in her old age.
Furthermore, she is counted among the “blessed” disciples in Luke’s Gospel. Not only will Elizabeth call Mary blessed for believing God’s word (1:45), but Mary herself will say that all generations will call her blessed (1:48). Similarly, like a good disciple who hears God’s word and keeps it, Mary will “keep in her heart” the angel’s joyous message at Jesus’ birth (2:19) and Christ’s words to her when she finds him in the temple (2:51).
Finally, Luke shows us Mary persevering in faithfulness throughout her life, devoting herself to prayer and to the life of the early Christian community in the days following her Son’s resurrection and ascension into heaven (see Acts 1:14).
Throughout her life, therefore, Mary’s acceptance of God’s word is exemplary. As the first person to accept God’s word in the new covenant, her obedience anticipates the response many will make to Christ’s call to follow him in his public ministry and throughout the Christian era.
Friday, December 09, 2005
Fr. Stan Fortuna on Immaculate Conception
December 8, 2005The Immaculate Conception
Dear Friends of Francesco,
Greetings peace and Blessings to you and all your families and friends. Br. David kindly took me to the airport for my flight to Brazil and in honor the Immaculate Conception we went to pick up 2 chicken parmagian wedges with 2 cans of ginger ale and 2 bottles of water. When I asked the guy how much I owed he said, "19.90". As some of you know, I was ordained a priest of Jesus Christ on December 8, 1990. Boom - 1990 - it was a little anniversary gift from the Blessed Mother! Thanks ma! And thanks to all of you who have been so supportive with your prayers, Masses offered, gifts, calls and e-mails.
I can hear Fr. Benedict preaching on this solemnity regarding how we can never be immaculately conceived, and therefore, how in a certain sense the Immaculate Conception is difficult for us to relate to. True enough. Yet, at the same time the perfection of God's saving power, revealed in the Immaculate Conception, is something that draws me. There is this insatiable thrusting yearning for the perfection of God's amazing and saving grace to be turned loose in my life and in the lives of my family, friends and all the people I know and don't know. This long slow and gradual perfection of grace in our lives, as the Church teaches, perfects the soul to enable it to live with God and to act by his love. The Holy Spirit infuses this grace into our souls to heal it from the miserable effects of sin and to sanctify our souls and shine through the way we live. In other words, to help us grow in holiness.
I'll leave you with a beautiful reflection from St. Anselm:
"Sky and stars, earth and rivers, day and night everything that is subject to the power or use of man rejoice that through you (Mary) they are in some sense restored to their lost beauty and are endowed with inexpressible new grace."
Peace and Blessings to you and your families and friends, now and forever in Jesus and Mary...Lord willing, talk to ya'll next week...fr stan+...
JPII on Immaculate Conception 2004
"On 8 December 1854, 150 years ago, Bl. Pius IX proclaimed the Dogma of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary. The privilege of being preserved free from original sin means that she was the first to be redeemed by her Son. Her sublime beauty, which mirrors that of Christ, is for all believers a pledge of the victory of divine Grace over sin and death. The Immaculate Conception shines like a beacon of light for humanity in all the ages. At the beginning of the third millennium, it guides us to believe and hope in God, in his salvation and in eternal life. In particular, it lights the way of the Church, which is committed to the new evangelization."
Annunciation - Mary’s fiat
By Edward SriMary said: "Let it be to me according to your Word"
Let us now step back and consider all that has happened to Mary in this brief encounter with Gabriel. First, an angel visits the young woman from the small town of Nazareth. This alone would have been quite startling. Second, in hearing the angel’s words “The Lord is with you” and “You have found favor with God,” Mary probably realizes that God is calling her to some daunting task. She is to play a pivotal role in God’s plan of salvation, as did Noah, Abraham, Moses, David and many other key figures in Israel’s history who have gone before her.
Third, she finds out that she will be expecting a baby. Fourth, she is informed that this child just happens to be the long-awaited Messiah who will restore Israel’s kingdom and bring the history of the world to its climactic moment. Fifth, she will conceive of this child not through natural means but through a miraculous conception brought about by God’s Holy Spirit. Finally—as if all this were not already astonishing enough—the angel tells her that this child is the divine Son of God. That’s a lot to swallow in one short conversation with an angel! All of this was given to Mary in a conversation that could have taken place in about a minute or two.
It is difficult to imagine what Mary was going through in those brief moments. Some people would have requested a little time to think about and process all that was just said. Others might have responded, “Why me?” Still others might have just fainted! While we don’t know much about Mary’s emotions and thoughts at the angel’s annunciation, the one response Luke does record for us is one of complete trust: “And Mary said, ‘Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word’” (Luke 1:38).
What is interesting about Mary’s response is that the Greek word in this verse for “let it be to me” expresses not a passive acceptance but a joyful wishing or desiring on Mary’s part. Mary does not passively agree to go along with this challenging vocation, but upon hearing of her extraordinary maternal mission, she positively desires it and fully embraces God’s call for her to serve as the mother of the Messiah.
Thursday, December 08, 2005
Benedict XVI on Solemnity of Immaculate Conception
"In Mary Shines the Eternal Goodness of the Creator"Dear Brothers and Sisters!
Today we celebrate the solemnity of the Immaculate Conception. It is a day of intense spiritual joy, in which we contemplate the Virgin Mary, "in lowliness Surpassing, as in height, above them all, Term by the eternal counsel pre-ordained," as the supreme poet Dante sings ("Paradise," XXXIII, 3). In her shines the eternal goodness of the Creator who, in his plan of salvation, chose her to be mother of his Only-begotten Son, and, in anticipation of his death, preserved her from all stain of sin (cf. Collect Prayer). Thus, in the Mother of Christ and our Mother, the vocation of the human being has been perfectly realized.
All people, the Apostle Paul reminds us, are called to be immaculate saints in the presence of God in love (cf. Ephesians 1:4). When contemplating the Virgin, how is it possible not to reawaken in us, her children, the aspiration to beauty, to goodness, to purity of heart? Her heavenly innocence attracts us to God, helping us to overcome the temptation of a mediocre life, made up of compromises with evil, to direct us decisively to the authentic good, which is the source of joy.
On this day, my thought goes back to December 8, 1965, when the Servant of God Paul VI solemnly closed the Second Ecumenical Vatican Council, the greatest ecclesial event of the 20th century, which Blessed John XXIII had begun three years earlier. Amid the exultation of numerous faithful in St. Peter\'s Square, Paul VI entrusted the application of the conciliar documents to the Virgin Mary, invoking her with the gentle title Mother of the Church. When presiding this morning at a solemn Eucharistic celebration in the Vatican basilica, I wished to thank God for the gift of the Second Vatican Council. Moreover, I wished to praise Mary Most Holy for having accompanied these 40 years of ecclesial life, rich in so many events.
In a special way, Mary has watched with maternal care over the pontificates of my venerated predecessors, each of whom guided Peter\'s bark on the route of authentic conciliar renewal, working incessantly for the faithful interpretation and execution of the Second Vatican Council.
Dear brothers and sisters, as the crowning of this day, dedicated entirely to the Holy Virgin, following an ancient tradition, during the afternoon I shall go to Piazza di Spagna, to the foot of the statue of the Immaculate Conception. I ask you to join me spiritually on this pilgrimage, which endeavors to be an act of filial devotion to Mary, to commend to her the beloved city of Rome, the Church and the whole of humanity.
Benedict XVI comments on Psalm 137(138)
God "Cares for the Lowly"
1. Attributed by the Judaic tradition to David's patronage, although it probably arose in the subsequent period, the hymn of thanksgiving that we now heard, which constitutes Psalm 137[138], opens with a personal song of the psalmist. He raises his voice in the assembly of the temple, or at least having as a point of reference the Sanctuary of Zion, seat of the presence of the Lord and of his encounter with the faithful people.
In fact, the psalmist acknowledges that he bows "low toward your holy temple" of Jerusalem (see verse 2): There he sings before God who is in the heavens with his court of angels, but who is also listening in the earthly space of the temple (see verse 1).
The psalmist is certain that the "name" of the Lord, that is, his personal living and working reality, and his virtues of faithfulness and mercy, signs of the covenant with his people, are the basis of all confidence and hope (see verse 2).
2. One's gaze turns, then, for an instant to the past, to the day of suffering: Then the divine voice responded to the cry of the anguished faithful one. It infused courage in the disturbed soul (see verse 3). The Hebrew original speaks literally of the Lord who "excites strength in the soul" of the oppressed righteous one: It is like the invasion of an impetuous wind that sweeps away hesitations and fears, imprints a new vital energy, and makes fortitude and confidence flourish.
After this seemingly personal preamble, the psalmist extends his gaze over the world and imagines that his testimony spans the whole horizon: "All the kings of earth," in a sort of universal adherence, associate themselves with the Hebrew psalmist in a common praise in honor of the Lord's grandeur and sovereign power (see verses 4-6).
3. The content of this common praise that rises from all the peoples enables one to see already the future Church of pagans, the future universal Church. This content has as its first subject the "glory" and "ways of the Lord" (see verse 5), namely, his plans of salvation and his revelation. Thus one discovers that God is certainly "high" and transcendent, but "cares for the lowly" with affection, while he averts his gaze from the haughty in sign of rejection and judgment (see verse 6).
As Isaiah proclaimed, "For thus says he who is high and exalted, living eternally, whose name is the Holy One: On high I dwell, and in holiness, and with the crushed and dejected in spirit, to revive the spirits of the dejected, to revive the hearts of the crushed" (Isaiah 57:15). God chooses, therefore, to be with the weak, with victims, with the last: This is made known to all kings, so that they will know what their options should be in the governance of nations. Of course, he does not just say it to kings and to all governments, but to all of us, as we also must know which option we must choose: to be on the side of the humble, the last, the poor and the weak.
4. After this worldwide reference to leaders of nations, not only of that time but of all times, the psalmist again speaks of personal praise (see Psalm 137[138]:7-8). With a gaze that is directed to the future of his life, he also implores help from God for the trials that life still holds in store for him.
There is talk in a synthetic way of "the wrath of enemies" (verse 7), a kind of symbol of all the hostilities that the just man might have to face during his journey in history. But he knows that the Lord will never abandon him and will stretch out his hand to support and guide him. The end of the psalm is, therefore, a last impassioned profession of confidence in the God of everlasting goodness: He "will not forsake the work of his hands," namely, his creature (verse 8). And in this confidence, in this certitude of confidence in God, we too must live.
We must be certain that, no matter how heavy and tempestuous the trials are that await us, we will never be abandoned to ourselves, we will never fall from the Lord's hands, those hands that have created us and that now follow us on life's journey. As St. Paul would confess: "The one who began a good work in you will continue to complete it" (Philippians 1:6).
5. Thus we have been able to pray with a psalm of praise, thanksgiving and confidence. We want to continue with this line of hymnal praise through the testimony of a Christian singer, the great Ephraim of Syria (fourth century), author of texts of extraordinary poetic and spiritual fragrance.
"No matter how great our wonder is for you, O Lord, your glory surpasses what our tongues can express," sings Ephraim in a hymn ("Inni sulla Verginità , 7: L'Arpa dello Spirito," [Hymns on Virginity, 7: The Lyre of the Spirit], Rome, 1999, p. 66), and in another he says: "Praise to you, for whom all things are possible, because you are Almighty" ("Inni sulla Natività " [Hymns on the Nativity] 11: ibid., p. 48), this is a further reason for our confidence: God has the power of mercy and uses his power for mercy. And, finally, a last quotation: "Praise to you from all those who understand your truth" ("Inni sulla Fede" [Hymns on Faith] 14: ibid., p. 27).
1. Attributed by the Judaic tradition to David's patronage, although it probably arose in the subsequent period, the hymn of thanksgiving that we now heard, which constitutes Psalm 137[138], opens with a personal song of the psalmist. He raises his voice in the assembly of the temple, or at least having as a point of reference the Sanctuary of Zion, seat of the presence of the Lord and of his encounter with the faithful people.
In fact, the psalmist acknowledges that he bows "low toward your holy temple" of Jerusalem (see verse 2): There he sings before God who is in the heavens with his court of angels, but who is also listening in the earthly space of the temple (see verse 1).
The psalmist is certain that the "name" of the Lord, that is, his personal living and working reality, and his virtues of faithfulness and mercy, signs of the covenant with his people, are the basis of all confidence and hope (see verse 2).
2. One's gaze turns, then, for an instant to the past, to the day of suffering: Then the divine voice responded to the cry of the anguished faithful one. It infused courage in the disturbed soul (see verse 3). The Hebrew original speaks literally of the Lord who "excites strength in the soul" of the oppressed righteous one: It is like the invasion of an impetuous wind that sweeps away hesitations and fears, imprints a new vital energy, and makes fortitude and confidence flourish.
After this seemingly personal preamble, the psalmist extends his gaze over the world and imagines that his testimony spans the whole horizon: "All the kings of earth," in a sort of universal adherence, associate themselves with the Hebrew psalmist in a common praise in honor of the Lord's grandeur and sovereign power (see verses 4-6).
3. The content of this common praise that rises from all the peoples enables one to see already the future Church of pagans, the future universal Church. This content has as its first subject the "glory" and "ways of the Lord" (see verse 5), namely, his plans of salvation and his revelation. Thus one discovers that God is certainly "high" and transcendent, but "cares for the lowly" with affection, while he averts his gaze from the haughty in sign of rejection and judgment (see verse 6).
As Isaiah proclaimed, "For thus says he who is high and exalted, living eternally, whose name is the Holy One: On high I dwell, and in holiness, and with the crushed and dejected in spirit, to revive the spirits of the dejected, to revive the hearts of the crushed" (Isaiah 57:15). God chooses, therefore, to be with the weak, with victims, with the last: This is made known to all kings, so that they will know what their options should be in the governance of nations. Of course, he does not just say it to kings and to all governments, but to all of us, as we also must know which option we must choose: to be on the side of the humble, the last, the poor and the weak.
4. After this worldwide reference to leaders of nations, not only of that time but of all times, the psalmist again speaks of personal praise (see Psalm 137[138]:7-8). With a gaze that is directed to the future of his life, he also implores help from God for the trials that life still holds in store for him.
There is talk in a synthetic way of "the wrath of enemies" (verse 7), a kind of symbol of all the hostilities that the just man might have to face during his journey in history. But he knows that the Lord will never abandon him and will stretch out his hand to support and guide him. The end of the psalm is, therefore, a last impassioned profession of confidence in the God of everlasting goodness: He "will not forsake the work of his hands," namely, his creature (verse 8). And in this confidence, in this certitude of confidence in God, we too must live.
We must be certain that, no matter how heavy and tempestuous the trials are that await us, we will never be abandoned to ourselves, we will never fall from the Lord's hands, those hands that have created us and that now follow us on life's journey. As St. Paul would confess: "The one who began a good work in you will continue to complete it" (Philippians 1:6).
5. Thus we have been able to pray with a psalm of praise, thanksgiving and confidence. We want to continue with this line of hymnal praise through the testimony of a Christian singer, the great Ephraim of Syria (fourth century), author of texts of extraordinary poetic and spiritual fragrance.
"No matter how great our wonder is for you, O Lord, your glory surpasses what our tongues can express," sings Ephraim in a hymn ("Inni sulla Verginità , 7: L'Arpa dello Spirito," [Hymns on Virginity, 7: The Lyre of the Spirit], Rome, 1999, p. 66), and in another he says: "Praise to you, for whom all things are possible, because you are Almighty" ("Inni sulla Natività " [Hymns on the Nativity] 11: ibid., p. 48), this is a further reason for our confidence: God has the power of mercy and uses his power for mercy. And, finally, a last quotation: "Praise to you from all those who understand your truth" ("Inni sulla Fede" [Hymns on Faith] 14: ibid., p. 27).
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
Annunciation - What child is this?
By Edward Sri“And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High; and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob for ever; and of his kingdom there will be no end.” — Luke 1:31-33
Now the angel Gabriel gets to the heart of his message and the nature of Mary’s mission: Mary will bear a son who will bring Israel’s history to its climax. She will be the mother of Israel’s long-awaited Messiah-King.
Each of these lines is highly charged with Davidic kingdom themes—we can see numerous parallels between the words God spoke to David (see 2 Samuel 7:9, 12-14, 16) and the words Gabriel speaks to Mary. For example, Mary’s child is called “son of the Most High,” recalling how David’s sons were described as having a unique filial-like relationship with God (see 2 Samuel 7:14; Psalm 2:7; 89:26-27). Similarly, God’s giving Mary’s child “the throne of his father David” brings to mind how David’s heir was to receive “the throne of his kingdom for ever” (2 Samuel 7:13).
Futhermore, the description of Jesus’ never-ending kingdom—“He will reign over the house of Jacob forever; and of his kingdom there will be no end”—reminds us of the everlasting dynasty God originally promised to David’s family (see 2 Samuel 7:13, 16; Psalm 89:36-37).
These themes—the throne of David, greatness, sonship, an everlasting kingdom—make the angel’s message to Mary quite clear: Mary will have the long-awaited royal Son who will fulfill the dynastic promises God made to David.
For hundreds of years the Jews have been longing for God to rebuild the kingdom that Babylon destroyed. Their prophets have foretold that one day God would send a new Davidic heir who would comfort the people in their oppression and free them from their enemies. This new Davidic king not only would restore the great dynasty to its former glory but also would bring Israel’s history and the history of the world to its ultimate destination: the reunion of the human family into covenant with God. The Jews called this long-awaited son of David “the anointed one”—or in Hebrew, Messiah.
Mary’s mission is to be the mother of this particular King, the Messiah. In her womb she is to carry the summation of all of Israel’s expectations and the culmination of God’s plan of salvation. Indeed, “the hopes and fears of all the years” find their answer in Mary’s child.
It is important to note that up to this point of the angel’s announcement, there has been no explicit mention of the child’s divine origins. All the language so far about the everlasting kingdom and Jesus’ being the Son of God is taken from terms that the Old Testament commonly used to describe the Davidic king.
Also, there has been no explicit mention yet of a miraculous virgin birth. Presumably, if Mary were like most first-century betrothed women, she would anticipate conceiving of this child through the natural means of marital relations after her betrothal period ended and after she moved in with her husband.
However, Mary surprisingly asks, “How shall this be, since I have no husband?” Only now does Gabriel underscore the extraordinary type of motherhood to which Mary is being called: “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be called holy, the Son of God.”
How will Mary, who is betrothed and still a virgin, bear a child? By the spirit and power of God, Gabriel says. Here we have the first clear indication of the virginal conception of the Messiah.
Furthermore, we see that Jesus’ filial relationship with God far surpasses that of any king in David’s dynasty. Jesus will be called Son of God not simply because of his role as Davidic heir and Messiah but because of his unique divine origin. Gabriel tells Mary that she will conceive through God’s extraordinary intervention of sending the Holy Spirit upon her, and this is the reason for calling him God’s Son.
Early Christians saw Mary’s conceiving Jesus by the power of the Holy Spirit as an important sign of Christ’s humanity and divinity. On one hand, it points to his divine nature by highlighting his unique divine origin. By the power of God’s Spirit, Mary really becomes the mother of her God.
On the other hand, the Church fathers also saw the virginal conception as a sign that the divine Son of God really became human, taking the flesh of his mother Mary. Within the first century of Christianity, St. Ignatius of Antioch, for example, emphasized that the Son of God really entered into the human family and really took on human flesh that he received in the virgin’s womb. God did not just appear as a man, but he truly became one of us in Jesus, experiencing birth, life, suffering and even death.
Benedict XVI on religious freedom
"God Awaits a Response of Love"
Dear Brothers and Sisters!
In this time of Advent, the ecclesial community is invited, while it prepares to celebrate the great mystery of the Incarnation, to rediscover and deepen its personal relationship with God. The Latin word "adventus" refers to the coming of Christ and highlights God's movement toward humanity, to which each one is called to respond with openness, expectation, search and adherence. And just as God is sovereignly free when he reveals and gives himself, as he is moved only by love, so the human person is free in giving him his assent, although it is something that is due: God awaits a response of love. In these days, the liturgy presents the Virgin Mary - whom we will contemplate next Thursday, Dec. 8, in the mystery of the Immaculate Conception -- as the perfect model of this response.
The Virgin listens, ready at all times to fulfill the will of the Lord, and is an example for the believer who lives searching for God. To this topic, as well as to the relationship between truth and freedom, the Second Vatican Council dedicated a careful reflection. In particular, the conciliar Fathers approved, exactly 40 years ago, a declaration on the question of religious freedom, namely, the right of persons and communities to be able to seek the truth and profess their faith freely. The first words that make up the title of this document are "dignitatis humanae": Religious freedom stems from the singular dignity of man who, among all the creatures of this earth, is the only one able to establish a free and conscious relationship with his creator.
"It is in accordance with their dignity as persons -- that is, beings endowed with reason and free will and therefore privileged to bear personal responsibility -- that all men should be at once impelled by nature and also bound by a moral obligation to seek the truth, especially religious truth," said the council.
Thus the Second Vatican Council reaffirms the traditional Catholic doctrine, according to which, man, in so far as spiritual creature, can know the truth and, therefore, has the duty and right to seek it (cf. Ibid., 3). With this foundation, the council insists extensively on religious freedom, which must be guaranteed both to individuals as well as to communities, in respect of the legitimate exigencies of public order. And this conciliar teaching, after 40 years, continues to be very timely. In fact, religious freedom is far from being ensured everywhere: In some cases it is denied for religious or ideological motives; in others, even though recognized in written form, it is hindered in practice by the political power or, in a more insidious way by the cultural prevalence of agnosticism and relativism.
Let us pray that every human being will be able to realize the religious vocation he bears inscribed in his being. May Mary help us to recognize in the face of the child of Bethlehem, conceived in her virginal womb, the divine Redeemer, who came into the world to reveal to us the authentic face of God.
Sunday, December 04, 2005
The Mystical Significance of the Hebrew Letteres - ALEF
ALEFThe Paradox: God and Man
The alef is formed by two yuds, one to the upper right and the other to the lower left, joined by a diagonal vav. These represent the higher and lower waters and the firmament between them, as taught by the Ari z"l ("Rabbi Isaac Luria of blessed memory," who received and revealed new insights into the ancient wisdom of Kabbalah)
Water is first mentioned in the Torah in the account of the first day of Creation: "And the spirit of God hovered over the surface of the water." At this time the higher and the lower waters were indistinguishable; their state is referred to as "water in water." On the second day of Creation God separated the two waters by "stretching" the firmament between them.
In the service of the soul, as taught in Chassidut, the higher water is water of joy, the experience of being close to God, while the lower water is water of bitterness, the experience of being far from God.
In Jewish philosophy, the two intrinsic properties of water are "wet" and "cold." The higher water is "wet" with the feeling of oneness with the "exaltation of God," while the lower water is "cold" with the feeling of separation, the frustration of experiencing the inherent "lowliness of man." Divine service, as taught by Chassidut, emphasizes that in fact the primary consciousness of both waters is the sense of the Divine, each from its own perspective: from the perspective of the higher water, the greater the "exaltation of God," the greater the oneness of all in His Absolute Being; from the perspective of the lower water, the greater the "exaltation of God," the greater the existential gap between the reality of God and that of man, thus the inherent "lowliness of man."
The Talmud tells of four sages who entered the "Pardes," the mystical orchard of spiritual elevation reached only through intense meditation and Kabbalistic contemplations. The greatest of the four, Rabbi Akiva, said to the others before entering, "When you come to the place of pure marble stone, do not say 'water-water,' for it is said, 'He who speaks lies shall not stand before my eyes.'" The Ari z"l explains that the place of "pure marble stone" is where the higher and the lower waters unite. Here one must not call out 'water-water,' as if to divide the higher and lower waters. "The place of pure marble stone" is the place of truth--the Divine power to bear two opposites simultaneously; in the words of Rabbi Shalom ben Adret: "the paradox of paradoxes." Here "the exaltation of God" and His "closeness" to man unite with the "lowliness of man" and his "distance" from God.
The Torah begins with the letter beit: "Bereishit (In the beginning) God created the heavens and the earth." The Ten Commandments, the Divine revelation to the Jewish People at Sinai, begin with the letter alef: "Anochi [I] am God your God who has taken you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage." The Midrash states that "higher reality" had been set apart from "lower reality," for God had decreed that neither higher reality descend nor lower reality ascend. In giving the Torah, God annulled His decree, He Himself being the first to descend, as it is written: "And God came down on Mount Sinai". Lower reality, in turn, ascended: "And Moses approached the cloud...." The union of "higher reality," the upper yud, with the "lower reality," the lower yud, by means of the connecting vav of Torah, is the ultimate secret of the letter alef.
Annunciation - Full of grace, the Lord is with you
By Edward Sri"Full of grace, the Lord is with you"
Mary’s world radically changes when the angel Gabriel appears to her saying, “Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with you!” Understandably, Mary “was greatly troubled.” Imagine being home alone, walking into a room and finding an angel suddenly standing before you! However, Luke’s Gospel tells us that Mary is not startled simply by the angel itself but by the angel’s greeting: “She was greatly troubled at the saying, and considered in her mind what sort of greeting this might be.”
Why might Mary be so anxious about the angel’s words? First the angel says, “Hail, full of grace.” No one else in the Bible has ever been honored by an angel with such an exalted title. The Greek word kecharitomene, which here is translated “full of grace,” indicates that Mary already possesses God’s saving grace. The Lord has prepared her as a pure and holy temple in which the divine Christ child will dwell for nine months. Now the Son of God will reside in the womb of a woman who is full of grace.
The Catholic Church has often turned to this passage when commenting on Mary’s Immaculate Conception—the belief that Mary was conceived full of grace as God prepared her to be the mother of the Messiah.
Second, the angel says, “The Lord is with you!” Although many Catholics today are accustomed to hearing “The Lord be with you” repeated throughout the Mass, we might not be as familiar with the powerful significance these words originally had in ancient Judaism.
Many times in the Old Testament the words “the Lord is with you” signaled that someone was being called to a daunting task. In fact, these words often accompanied an invitation from God to play a crucial role in his plan of salvation. Such a divine calling generally entailed great sacrifices and challenged people to step out of their comfort zones and put their trust in God like never before.
At the same time, these words offered assurance that they would not face these challenges alone. They would not have to rely solely on their own abilities and talents because God’s presence and protection would be with them throughout their mission. Some of Israel’s greatest leaders—men like Isaac, Jacob, Joshua, Gideon and David—were told that God would be with them when they were commissioned to serve his people.
One of the most famous stories that illustrates the meaning of “the Lord is with you” can be found in Exodus, when God called Moses at the burning bush to confront Pharaoh and lead the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt. Feeling fearfully inadequate for the job, Moses responded the same way many people respond when they feel they are in over their heads: with a “Why me?”—and a disbelief that God would call him to this important task.
The Lord’s response to Moses’ fears is striking. God did not say to Moses, “I will send you to a Toastmasters’ workshop on public speaking,” or, “I’ll fly you out to a Franklin Covey seminar on effective leadership.” Rather, God told Moses the one thing he needed to hear most: “I will be with you” (Exodus 3:12).
Similarly, when Mary hears the angel say to her, “The Lord is with you,” she is not simply receiving a formal, pious salutation. With these words Mary probably realizes that a lot is being asked of her. Yet she will not have to face these difficulties alone. God will give her the one thing she needs most: the assurance that he will be with her.
Third, we learn more of Mary’s mission in Luke 1:30, as the angel says, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.” Like the phrase “The Lord is with you,” the notion of finding “favor with God” also would bring to mind Old Testament covenant mediators in God’s salvation plan.
Noah was the first person in the Bible described as finding favor with God (see Genesis 6:8). God saved him and his family from the flood and gave him a covenant to be the head of a renewed human family. The next person to find favor with God was Abraham (see Genesis 18:2-3). God made a covenant with him, calling on his family to be the instrument through which he would bring blessing to all the nations of the world. Similarly, Moses, the covenant mediator who led Israel out of slavery in Egypt, found favor with God (see Exodus 33:12-17), as did David, for whom God established a kingdom (see 2 Samuel 15:25).
Like these great covenant mediators of the Old Testament, Mary has found favor with God. Walking in the footsteps of Noah, Abraham, Moses and David, Mary now is called to serve as an important cooperator in the divine plan to bring salvation to all the nations.
Friday, December 02, 2005
The Annunciation - The angel Gabriel was sent to Mary
By Edward SriIn the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent from God to a city of Galilee named Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David; and the virgin’s name was Mary. Luke 1:26-27
What was Mary’s life like originally—before she learned that she was to become the mother of Israel’s Messiah? While Luke’s Gospel does not offer a lot of information about the mother of Jesus, it does tell us three important details that allow us to catch a glimpse of Mary’s life before the angel Gabriel visited.
First, we learn that she lives in Nazareth. This was a small village in the region of Galilee. Jesus’ coming from such an obscure village will cause him trouble later in his public ministry. Some will question how he really could be sent from God, since no prophet ever came out of this region (see John 7:52), while others will wonder whether anything good at all could come out of this little town (see John 1:46).
Second, Luke describes Mary as betrothed to Joseph. In first-century Judaism, betrothal was the first step of a two-stage marriage process. At her betrothal Mary would have consented before public witnesses to marry Joseph, and this would have established the couple as husband and wife. As a betrothed wife, however, Mary would have continued to live with her own family, apart from her husband, for up to a year. Only after this period of betrothal would the second stage of marriage take place—the consummation of the marriage and the wife’s moving into the husband’s home.
Consequently, as a betrothed woman, Mary still would have been living with her family in Nazareth. As such, it makes sense that Luke would describe her at this stage as “a virgin.” Perhaps even more noteworthy, however, is the fact that women in first-century Palestine generally were betrothed in their early teen years. This tells us that Mary probably was a very young woman when God called her to serve as the mother of the Messiah.
Finally, the most striking point we know about Mary’s life prior to the Annunciation is that she married a man from “the house of David” (1:27). This small detail indicates that Mary became part of the most famous family in all of Israel: King David’s family.
In the time of Mary and Joseph, the Jews are suffering under Roman occupation. In such oppressive conditions, being a member of David’s family no longer holds the privileges, authority and honor that it held in the glory days of the kings who reigned in Jerusalem. Instead, this Joseph “of the house of David” is a humble carpenter, leading a quiet, ordinary life in the small town of Nazareth.
God isn't big enough for some people
By Umberto EcoWe are now approaching the critical time of the year for shops and supermarkets: the month before Christmas is the four weeks when stores of all kinds sell their products fastest. Father Christmas means one thing to children: presents. He has no connection with the original St Nicholas, who performed a miracle in providing dowries for three poor sisters, thereby enabling them to marry and escape a life of prostitution.
Human beings are religious animals. It is psychologically very hard to go through life without the justification, and the hope, provided by religion. You can see this in the positivist scientists of the 19th century.
They insisted that they were describing the universe in rigorously materialistic terms - yet at night they attended seances and tried to summon up the spirits of the dead. Even today, I frequently meet scientists who, outside their own narrow discipline, are superstitious - to such an extent that it sometimes seems to me that to be a rigorous unbeliever today, you have to be a philosopher. Or perhaps a priest.
And we need to justify our lives to ourselves and to other people. Money is an instrument. It is not a value - but we need values as well as instruments, ends as well as means. The great problem faced by human beings is finding a way to accept the fact that each of us will die.
Money can do a lot of things - but it cannot help reconcile you to your own death. It can sometimes help you postpone your own death: a man who can spend a million pounds on personal physicians will usually live longer than someone who cannot. But he can't make himself live much longer than the average life-span of affluent people in the developed world.
And if you believe in money alone, then sooner or later, you discover money's great limitation: it is unable to justify the fact that you are a mortal animal. Indeed, the more you try escape that fact, the more you are forced to realise that your possessions can't make sense of your death.
It is the role of religion to provide that justification. Religions are systems of belief that enable human beings to justify their existence and which reconcile us to death. We in Europe have faced a fading of organised religion in recent years. Faith in the Christian churches has been declining.
The ideologies such as communism that promised to supplant religion have failed in spectacular and very public fashion. So we're all still looking for something that will reconcile each of us to the inevitability of our own death.
G K Chesterton is often credited with observing: "When a man ceases to believe in God, he doesn't believe in nothing. He believes in anything." Whoever said it - he was right. We are supposed to live in a sceptical age. In fact, we live in an age of outrageous credulity.
The "death of God", or at least the dying of the Christian God, has been accompanied by the birth of a plethora of new idols. They have multiplied like bacteria on the corpse of the Christian Church -- from strange pagan cults and sects to the silly, sub-Christian superstitions of The Da Vinci Code.
It is amazing how many people take that book literally, and think it is true. Admittedly, Dan Brown, its author, has created a legion of zealous followers who believe that Jesus wasn't crucified: he married Mary Magdalene, became the King of France, and started his own version of the order of Freemasons. Many of the people who now go to the Louvre are there only to look at the Mona Lisa, solely and simply because it is at the centre of Dan Brown's book.
The pianist Arthur Rubinstein was once asked if he believed in God. He said: "No. I don't believe in God. I believe in something greater." Our culture suffers from the same inflationary tendency. The existing religions just aren't big enough: we demand something more from God than the existing depictions in the Christian faith can provide. So we revert to the occult. The so-called occult sciences do not ever reveal any genuine secret: they only promise that there is something secret that explains and justifies everything. The great advantage of this is that it allows each person to fill up the empty secret "container" with his or her own fears and hopes.
As a child of the Enlightenment, and a believer in the Enlightenment values of truth, open inquiry, and freedom, I am depressed by that tendency. This is not just because of the association between the occult and fascism and Nazism - although that association was very strong. Himmler and many of Hitler's henchmen were devotees of the most infantile occult fantasies.
The same was true of some of the fascist gurus in Italy - Julius Evola is one example - who continue to fascinate the neo-fascists in my country. And today, if you browse the shelves of any bookshop specialising in the occult, you will find not only the usual tomes on the Templars, Rosicrucians, pseudo-Kabbalists, and of course The Da Vinci Code, but also anti-semitic tracts such as the Protocols of the Elders of Zion.
I was raised as a Catholic, and although I have abandoned the Church, this December, as usual, I will be putting together a Christmas crib for my grandson. We'll construct it together - as my father did with me when I was a boy. I have profound respect for the Christian traditions - which, as rituals for coping with death, still make more sense than their purely commercial alternatives.
I think I agree with Joyce's lapsed Catholic hero in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man: "What kind of liberation would that be to forsake an absurdity which is logical and coherent and to embrace one which is illogical and incoherent?" The religious celebration of Christmas is at least a clear and coherent absurdity. The commercial celebration is not even that.
27/11/2005
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Benedict XVI comments on Psalm 136 (137)
"A National Hymn of Sorrow"1. On this first Wednesday of Advent, a liturgical time of silence, watching and prayer in preparation for Christmas, we meditate on Psalm 136(137), which has become famous in the Latin version of its beginning, "Super flumina Babylonis." The text evokes the tragedy that the Jewish people lived through during the destruction of Jerusalem, which took place in the year 586 B.C., and the subsequent exile in Babylon. We are before a national hymn of sorrow, characterized by a dry nostalgia of what was lost.
This profound invocation to the Lord to liberate his faithful from the slavery of Babylon also expresses sentiments of hope and expectation of the salvation with which we have begun the Advent journey.
The first part of the Psalm (cf. verses 1-4) has, as a background, the land of exile, with its rivers and canals, which watered the plain of Babylon, headquarters of the deported Jews. It is as a symbolic anticipation of the extermination camps in which the Jewish people -- in the century that just ended -- were led to an infamous operation of death, which has remained as an indelible disgrace in the history of humanity.
The second part of the Psalm (cf. verses 5-6) is full of loving memories of Zion, the lost city, but which continues to be alive in the hearts of the deported.
2. Involved in the psalmist's words are the hand, tongue, palate, voice and tears. The hand is indispensable for the one who plays the lyre. But it has remained paralyzed (cf. verse 5) by sorrow because, moreover, the lyres have been hung on the willows.
The singer needs the tongue, but now it cleaves to his palate (cf. verse 6). The songs of Zion are the Lord's canticles (verses 3-4), they are not folkloric songs or performances. Only in the liturgy and in the freedom of a people can they rise up to heaven.
3. God, who is the ultimate arbiter of history, will be able to understand and accept, according to his justice, the cry of the victims, beyond the harsh tones that it sometimes acquires.
We want to commend to St. Augustine a further meditation on our psalm. In it, the Father of the Church introduces a surprising element of great timeliness: He knows that also among the inhabitants of Babylon there are people who are committed to peace and the good of the community, despite the fact that they do not share the biblical faith, that they do not know the hope of the Eternal City to which we aspire. They have a spark of desire for the unknown, for the greatest, for the transcendent, for a genuine redemption.
And he says that among the persecutors, among the nonbelievers, there are people with this spark, with a kind of faith, of hope, in the measure that is possible for them in the circumstances in which they live. With this faith in an unknown reality, they are really on the way to the authentic Jerusalem, to Christ. And with this opening of hope, valid also for the Babylonians -- as Augustine calls them -- for those who do not know Christ, and not even God, and who nevertheless desire the unknown, the eternal, he exhorts us not to look only at the material things of the present moment, but to persevere in the path to God. Only with this greater hope can we transform this world in a just way.
St. Augustine says it with these words: "If we are citizens of Jerusalem ... and we have to live on this earth, in the confusion of the present world, in the present Babylon, where we do not live as citizens but are prisoners, it is necessary that we not only sing what the Psalm says, but that we live it: This is achieved with a profound aspiration of the heart, fully and religiously desirous of the Eternal City."
And making reference to the "earthly city called Babylon," he adds: In it "there are people who, moved by love for it, contrive to ensure peace, temporal peace, without nourishing another hope in their hearts than the joy of working for peace. And we see them make every effort to be useful to the earthly society. However, if they are committed with a pure conscience in these tasks, God will not allow them to perish with Babylon, having predestined them to be citizens of Jerusalem, on the condition, however, that, living in Babylon, they do not seek pride, outdated pomp and arrogance. ... He sees their service and will show them the other city, toward which they must really long and orient all their effort" ("Esposizioni sui Salmi" [Commentaries on the Psalms] 136, 1-2: "New Augustinian Library," XXVIII, Rome, 1977, pp. 397, 399).
And let us pray to the Lord that he will awaken in all of us this desire, this openness to God, and that those who do not know God may also be touched by his love, so that all of us journey together toward the definitive City and that the light of this City might also shine in our time and in our world.
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