VATICAN CITY, JAN. 23, 2006
"I Wished to Show the Humanity of Faith"
The cosmic excursion in which Dante wants to involve the reader in his "Divine Comedy" ends before the everlasting Light that is God himself, before that Light which at the same time is the love "which moves the sun and the other stars ("Paradise" XXXIII, verse 145). Light and love are but one thing. They are the primordial creative power that moves the universe.
If these words of the poet reveal the thought of Aristotle, who saw in the "eros" the power that moves the world, Dante's gaze, however, perceives something totally new and unimaginable for the Greek philosopher.
Eternal Light not only is presented with the three circles of which he speaks with those profound verses that we know: "Eternal Light, You only dwell within Yourself, and only You know You; Self-knowing, Self-known, You love and smile upon Yourself!" ("Paradise," XXXIII, verses 124-126). In reality, the perception of a human face -- the face of Jesus Christ -- which Dante sees in the central circle of light is even more overwhelming than this revelation of God as Trinitarian circle of knowledge and love.
God, infinite Light, whose incommensurable mystery had been intuited by the Greek philosopher, this God has a human face and -- we can add -- a human heart. In this vision of Dante is shown, on one hand, the continuity between the Christian faith in God and the search promoted by reason and by the realm of religions; at the same time, however, in it is also appreciated the novelty that exceeds all human search, the novelty that only God himself could reveal to us: the novelty of a love that has led God to assume a human face, more than that, to assume the flesh and blood, the whole of the human being.
God's "eros" is not only a primordial cosmic force, it is love that has created man and that bends before him, as the Good Samaritan bent before the wounded man, victim of thieves, who was lying on the side of the road that went from Jerusalem to Jericho.
Today the word "love" is so tarnished, so spoiled and so abused, that one is almost afraid to pronounce it with one's lips. And yet it is a primordial word, expression of the primordial reality; we cannot simply abandon it, we must take it up again, purify it and give back to it its original splendor so that it might illuminate our life and lead it on the right path. This awareness led me to choose love as the theme of my first encyclical.
I wished to express to our time and to our existence something of what Dante audaciously recapitulated in his vision. He speaks of his "sight" that "was enriched" when looking at it, changing him interiorly [The textual quotation in English is: "But through the sight, that fortified itself in me by looking, one appearance only to me was ever changing as I changed" (cf. "Paradise," XXXIII, verses 112-114)]. It is precisely this: that faith might become a vision-comprehension that transforms us.
I wished to underline the centrality of faith in God, in that God who has assumed a human face and a human heart. Faith is not a theory that one can take up or lay aside. It is something very concrete: It is the criterion that decides our lifestyle. In an age in which hostility and greed have become superpowers, an age in which we witness the abuse of religion to the point of culminating in hatred, neutral rationality on its own is unable to protect us. We are in need of the living God who has loved us unto death.
Thus, in this encyclical, the subjects "God," "Christ" and "Love" are welded, as the central guide of the Christian faith. I wished to show the humanity of faith, of which "eros" forms part, man's "yes" to his corporeal nature created by God, a "yes" that in the indissoluble marriage between man and woman finds its rooting in creation. And in it, "eros" is transformed into "agape," love for the other that no longer seeks itself but that becomes concern for the other, willingness to sacrifice oneself for him and openness to the gift of a new human life.
The Christian "agape," love for one's neighbor in the following of Christ, is not something foreign, put to one side or something that even goes against the "eros"; on the contrary, with the sacrifice Christ made of himself for man he offered a new dimension, which has developed ever more in the history of the charitable dedication of Christians to the poor and the suffering.
A first reading of the encyclical might perhaps give the impression that it is divided in two parts, that it is not greatly related within itself: a first, theoretical part that talks about the essence of love, and a second part that addresses ecclesial charity, with charitable organizations. However, what interested me was precisely the unity of the two topics, which can only be properly understood if they are seen as only one thing.
Above all, it was necessary to show that man is created to love and that this love, which in the first instance is manifested above all as "eros" between man and woman, must be transformed interiorly later into "agape," in gift of self to the other to respond precisely to the authentic nature of the "eros." With this foundation, it had then to be clarified that the essence of the love of God and of one's neighbor described in the Bible is the center of Christian life, it is the fruit of faith.
Then, it was necessary to underline in a second part that the totally personal act of the "agape" cannot remain as something merely individual, but, on the contrary, it must also become an essential act of the Church as community: that is, an institutional form is also needed that expresses itself in the communal action of the Church. The ecclesial organization of charity is not a form of social assistance that is superimposed by accident on the reality of the Church, an initiative that others could also take.
On the contrary, it forms part of the nature of the Church. Just as to the divine "Logos" corresponds the human announcement, the word of faith, so also to the "Agape," which is God, must correspond the "agape" of the Church, her charitable activity. This activity, in addition to its first very concrete meaning of help to the neighbor, also communicates to others the love of God, which we ourselves have received. In a certain sense, it must make the living God visible. In the charitable organization, God and Christ must not be strange words; in fact, they indicate the original source of ecclesial charity. The strength of "Caritas" depends on the strength of faith of all its members and collaborators.
The spectacle of suffering man touches our heart. But charitable commitment has a meaning that goes well beyond mere philanthropy. God himself pushes us in our interior to alleviate misery. In this way, in a word, we take him to the suffering world. The more we take him consciously and clearly as gift, the more effectively will our love change the world and awaken hope, a hope that goes beyond death.
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
Thursday, January 12, 2006
JPII on inculturation
“Eccleasia In Africa” #87.
Inculturation, through which the faith penetrates the life of individuals and their primary communities, is also a path to holiness. Just as in the Incarnation Christ assumed human nature in everything but sin, analogously through inculturation the Christian message assimilates the values of the society to which it is proclaimed, rejecting whatever is marked by sin. To the extent that an ecclesial community can integrate the positive values of a specific culture, inculturation becomes an instrument by which the community opens itself to the riches of Christian holiness. An inculturation wisely carried out purifies and elevates the cultures of the various peoples.
Inculturation, through which the faith penetrates the life of individuals and their primary communities, is also a path to holiness. Just as in the Incarnation Christ assumed human nature in everything but sin, analogously through inculturation the Christian message assimilates the values of the society to which it is proclaimed, rejecting whatever is marked by sin. To the extent that an ecclesial community can integrate the positive values of a specific culture, inculturation becomes an instrument by which the community opens itself to the riches of Christian holiness. An inculturation wisely carried out purifies and elevates the cultures of the various peoples.
Benedict XVI On Baptism
"We Are All Children of God in Christ Jesus"
Dear Brothers and Sisters!
On this Sunday following the solemnity of the Epiphany, we celebrate the feast of the Baptism of the Lord, which ends the liturgical time of Christmas. Today we contemplate Jesus who, at the age of about 30, had John baptize him in the Jordan River. It was a baptism of penance, which used the symbol of water to express the purification of heart and life.
John, called the "Baptist"" that is, he who baptizes, preached this baptism to Israel to prepare for the imminent coming of the Messiah; and he told all that after him another would come, greater than he, who would not baptize with water but with the Holy Spirit (cf. Mark 1:7-8). When Jesus was baptized in the Jordan, the Holy Spirit descended, rested on him with the corporal appearance of a dove, and John the Baptist recognized that he was the Christ, the "Lamb of God," who came to take away the sins of the world (cf. John 1:29).
Therefore, the baptism in the Jordan is also an "epiphany," a manifestation of the messianic identity of the Lord and of his redeeming work, which will culminate with another "baptism," that of his death and resurrection, through which the whole world will be purified in the fire of divine mercy (cf. Luke 12:49-50).
On this feast, Pope John Paul II usually administered the sacrament of baptism to some children. For the first time, this morning, I also had the joy of baptizing 10 newborns in the Sistine Chapel. I renew with affection my greeting to these little ones, to their families, as well as to the godfathers and godmothers.
The baptism of children expresses and realizes the mystery of the new birth to divine life in Christ: Believing parents take their children to the baptismal font, representation of the "womb" of the Church, from whose blessed waters the children of God are begotten. The gift received by the newborns calls for its being accepted by them, once they become adults, in a free and responsible way: This process of maturation will lead them later to receive the sacrament of confirmation, which in fact will confirm their baptism and will confer on them the "seal" of the Holy Spirit.
Dear Brothers and Sisters, may today's solemnity be a propitious opportunity for all Christians to discover the joy and beauty of their baptism that, lived with faith, is an ever present reality: It continually renews us in the image of the new man, in holiness of thoughts and deeds. Baptism, moreover, unites Christians of all creeds. Insofar as baptized, we are all children of God in Christ Jesus, our master and Lord. May the virgin Mary obtain for us the grace to understand ever more the value of our baptism and to witness to it with a worthy conduct of life.
Dear Brothers and Sisters!
On this Sunday following the solemnity of the Epiphany, we celebrate the feast of the Baptism of the Lord, which ends the liturgical time of Christmas. Today we contemplate Jesus who, at the age of about 30, had John baptize him in the Jordan River. It was a baptism of penance, which used the symbol of water to express the purification of heart and life.
John, called the "Baptist"" that is, he who baptizes, preached this baptism to Israel to prepare for the imminent coming of the Messiah; and he told all that after him another would come, greater than he, who would not baptize with water but with the Holy Spirit (cf. Mark 1:7-8). When Jesus was baptized in the Jordan, the Holy Spirit descended, rested on him with the corporal appearance of a dove, and John the Baptist recognized that he was the Christ, the "Lamb of God," who came to take away the sins of the world (cf. John 1:29).
Therefore, the baptism in the Jordan is also an "epiphany," a manifestation of the messianic identity of the Lord and of his redeeming work, which will culminate with another "baptism," that of his death and resurrection, through which the whole world will be purified in the fire of divine mercy (cf. Luke 12:49-50).
On this feast, Pope John Paul II usually administered the sacrament of baptism to some children. For the first time, this morning, I also had the joy of baptizing 10 newborns in the Sistine Chapel. I renew with affection my greeting to these little ones, to their families, as well as to the godfathers and godmothers.
The baptism of children expresses and realizes the mystery of the new birth to divine life in Christ: Believing parents take their children to the baptismal font, representation of the "womb" of the Church, from whose blessed waters the children of God are begotten. The gift received by the newborns calls for its being accepted by them, once they become adults, in a free and responsible way: This process of maturation will lead them later to receive the sacrament of confirmation, which in fact will confirm their baptism and will confer on them the "seal" of the Holy Spirit.
Dear Brothers and Sisters, may today's solemnity be a propitious opportunity for all Christians to discover the joy and beauty of their baptism that, lived with faith, is an ever present reality: It continually renews us in the image of the new man, in holiness of thoughts and deeds. Baptism, moreover, unites Christians of all creeds. Insofar as baptized, we are all children of God in Christ Jesus, our master and Lord. May the virgin Mary obtain for us the grace to understand ever more the value of our baptism and to witness to it with a worthy conduct of life.
Benedict XVI on Feast of Epiphany
"The Magi's Worship: Fulfillment of Scriptures"
Dear Brothers and Sisters!
Today we celebrate the Epiphany of the Lord, namely, his manifestation to the Gentiles, represented by the Wise Men, mysterious people who came from the East, of which the Gospel according to Matthew speaks (Matthew 2:1-12). The Magi's worship of Jesus was recognized immediately as fulfillment of the prophetic Scriptures. "And nations shall come to your light," we read in the Book of Isaiah, "and kings to the brightness of your rising. … They shall bring gold and frankincense, and shall proclaim the praise of the Lord" (Isaiah 60:3,6). The light of Christ, which the cave of Bethlehem contained, today expands in all its universal splendor. My thoughts go particularly to the beloved brothers and sisters of the Oriental Churches who, following the Julian calendar, celebrate today holy Christmas: I address to them my most cordial greetings of peace and goodness in the Lord.
It seems spontaneous to recall today World Youth Day. Last August, it gathered in Cologne more than 1 million young people, who raised as their motto the Magi's words in reference to Jesus: "We Have Come to Worship Him" (Matthew 2:2). How many times we have heard and repeated them! Now we cannot hear them without returning spiritually to that memorable event that represented a genuine "epiphany." In fact, the pilgrimage of young people in its most profound dimension, can be seen as an itinerary guided by the light of a "star," by the light of faith. And today I want to extend to the whole Church the message that I then proposed to young people gathered on the banks of the Rhine River: "Open wide your hearts to God; let yourselves be astonished by Christ! Open the doors of your freedom to his merciful love! Show Christ your joys and sorrows, allowing him to illuminate your mind with his light and touch your hearts with his grace" (Address of Aug. 18, 2005).
I would like the entire Church to breathe, as in Cologne, the atmosphere of "epiphany," and of genuine missionary commitment aroused by the manifestation of Christ, light of the world, sent by God the Father to reconcile and unify humanity with the force of love. With this spirit, let us pray with fervor for full Christian unity so that their testimony will become the leaven of communion for the whole world. For this reason, let us invoke the intercession of Mary Most Holy, Mother of Christ and Mother of the Church.
Dear Brothers and Sisters!
Today we celebrate the Epiphany of the Lord, namely, his manifestation to the Gentiles, represented by the Wise Men, mysterious people who came from the East, of which the Gospel according to Matthew speaks (Matthew 2:1-12). The Magi's worship of Jesus was recognized immediately as fulfillment of the prophetic Scriptures. "And nations shall come to your light," we read in the Book of Isaiah, "and kings to the brightness of your rising. … They shall bring gold and frankincense, and shall proclaim the praise of the Lord" (Isaiah 60:3,6). The light of Christ, which the cave of Bethlehem contained, today expands in all its universal splendor. My thoughts go particularly to the beloved brothers and sisters of the Oriental Churches who, following the Julian calendar, celebrate today holy Christmas: I address to them my most cordial greetings of peace and goodness in the Lord.
It seems spontaneous to recall today World Youth Day. Last August, it gathered in Cologne more than 1 million young people, who raised as their motto the Magi's words in reference to Jesus: "We Have Come to Worship Him" (Matthew 2:2). How many times we have heard and repeated them! Now we cannot hear them without returning spiritually to that memorable event that represented a genuine "epiphany." In fact, the pilgrimage of young people in its most profound dimension, can be seen as an itinerary guided by the light of a "star," by the light of faith. And today I want to extend to the whole Church the message that I then proposed to young people gathered on the banks of the Rhine River: "Open wide your hearts to God; let yourselves be astonished by Christ! Open the doors of your freedom to his merciful love! Show Christ your joys and sorrows, allowing him to illuminate your mind with his light and touch your hearts with his grace" (Address of Aug. 18, 2005).
I would like the entire Church to breathe, as in Cologne, the atmosphere of "epiphany," and of genuine missionary commitment aroused by the manifestation of Christ, light of the world, sent by God the Father to reconcile and unify humanity with the force of love. With this spirit, let us pray with fervor for full Christian unity so that their testimony will become the leaven of communion for the whole world. For this reason, let us invoke the intercession of Mary Most Holy, Mother of Christ and Mother of the Church.
Benedict XVI on Feast of St. Stephen
"Professing the Christian Faith Demands the Heroism of the Martyrs\"
Dear Brothers and Sisters,
Yesterday, after solemnly celebrating Christ's Birth, today we are commemorating the birth in Heaven of St Stephen, the first martyr. A special bond links these two feasts and it is summed up well in the Ambrosian liturgy by this affirmation: "Yesterday, the Lord was born on earth, that Stephen might be born in Heaven" (At the breaking of the bread).
Just as Jesus on the Cross entrusted himself to the Father without reserve and pardoned those who killed him, at the moment of his death St. Stephen prayed: "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit"; and further: "Lord, do not hold this sin against them" (cf. Acts 7:59-60). Stephen was a genuine disciple of Jesus and imitated him perfectly. With Stephen began that long series of martyrs who sealed their faith by offering their lives, proclaiming with their heroic witness that God became man to open the Kingdom of Heaven to humankind.
In the atmosphere of Christmas joy, the reference to the martyr St. Stephen does not seem out of place. Indeed, the shadow of the Cross was already extending over the manger in Bethlehem.
It was foretold by the poverty of the stable in which the infant wailed, the prophecy of Simeon concerning the sign that would be opposed and the sword destined to pierce the heart of the Virgin, and Herod's persecution that would make necessary the flight to Egypt.
It should not come as a surprise that this Child, having grown to adulthood, would one day ask his disciples to follow him with total trust and faithfulness on the Way of the Cross.
Already at the dawn of the Church, many Christians, attracted by his example and sustained by his love, were to witness to their faith by pouring out their blood. The first martyrs would be followed by others down the centuries to our day.
How can we not recognize that professing the Christian faith demands the heroism of the Martyrs in our time too, in various parts of the world? Moreover, how can we not say that everywhere, even where there is no persecution, there is a high price to pay for consistently living the Gospel?
Contemplating the divine Child in Mary's arms and looking to the example of St Stephen, let us ask God for the grace to live our faith consistently, ever ready to answer those who ask us to account for the hope that is in us (cf. 1 Peter 3:15).
Dear Brothers and Sisters,
Yesterday, after solemnly celebrating Christ's Birth, today we are commemorating the birth in Heaven of St Stephen, the first martyr. A special bond links these two feasts and it is summed up well in the Ambrosian liturgy by this affirmation: "Yesterday, the Lord was born on earth, that Stephen might be born in Heaven" (At the breaking of the bread).
Just as Jesus on the Cross entrusted himself to the Father without reserve and pardoned those who killed him, at the moment of his death St. Stephen prayed: "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit"; and further: "Lord, do not hold this sin against them" (cf. Acts 7:59-60). Stephen was a genuine disciple of Jesus and imitated him perfectly. With Stephen began that long series of martyrs who sealed their faith by offering their lives, proclaiming with their heroic witness that God became man to open the Kingdom of Heaven to humankind.
In the atmosphere of Christmas joy, the reference to the martyr St. Stephen does not seem out of place. Indeed, the shadow of the Cross was already extending over the manger in Bethlehem.
It was foretold by the poverty of the stable in which the infant wailed, the prophecy of Simeon concerning the sign that would be opposed and the sword destined to pierce the heart of the Virgin, and Herod's persecution that would make necessary the flight to Egypt.
It should not come as a surprise that this Child, having grown to adulthood, would one day ask his disciples to follow him with total trust and faithfulness on the Way of the Cross.
Already at the dawn of the Church, many Christians, attracted by his example and sustained by his love, were to witness to their faith by pouring out their blood. The first martyrs would be followed by others down the centuries to our day.
How can we not recognize that professing the Christian faith demands the heroism of the Martyrs in our time too, in various parts of the world? Moreover, how can we not say that everywhere, even where there is no persecution, there is a high price to pay for consistently living the Gospel?
Contemplating the divine Child in Mary's arms and looking to the example of St Stephen, let us ask God for the grace to live our faith consistently, ever ready to answer those who ask us to account for the hope that is in us (cf. 1 Peter 3:15).
Benedict XVI on the Mother of God and the World Day of Peace
"We Must Open Ourselves to the Truth"
Dear Brothers and Sisters!
On this first day of the year, the Church contemplates the heavenly Mother of God, who holds in her arms the Child Jesus, source of all blessings. "Hail, holy Mother, you have given birth to the King who rules heaven and earth for ever and ever."
The announcement of the angels in Bethlehem echoed in Mary's maternal heart, filling it with wonder: "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among men with whom he is pleased!" (Luke 2:14). And the Gospel adds that Mary "kept all these things, pondering them in her heart" (Luke 2:19). Like her, the Church also keeps and meditates on the Word of God, applying it with the different and changing situations she finds on her way.
Contemplating Christ, who came on earth to give us peace, we celebrate with the new year the World Day of Peace, which began by decision of Pope Paul VI thirty-eight years ago. In my first message on this occasion, I wanted to take up this year a constant theme in the magisterium of my venerated predecessors, beginning with the memorable encyclical of Blessed Pope John XXIII, "Pacem in Terris": the theme of truth as the foundation of authentic peace: "In Truth, Peace" is the motto that I present for the reflection of every person of good will.
When man allows himself to be illuminated by the splendor of truth, he becomes interiorly a courageous architect of peace. The liturgical time we are living gives us a great lesson: To welcome the gift of peace we must open ourselves to the truth that has been revealed in the person of Jesus, who taught us the "content" and at the same time the "method" of peace, that is, love.
God, in fact, who is perfect and subsistent love, revealed himself in Jesus, assuming our human condition. In this way he has also indicated to us the way of peace: dialogue, forgiveness, solidarity. This is the only way that leads to authentic peace.
Let us turn our gaze to Mary Most Holy, who today blesses the whole world showing her divine Son, the "Prince of Peace" (Isaiah 9:5). With trust, let us invoke her powerful intercession so that the human family, by opening itself to the evangelical message, might spend the year which begins today in fraternity and peace. With these sentiments I express to all of you here present, and to all those who are united to us through radio and television, my most cordial wishes for peace and goodness."
Dear Brothers and Sisters!
On this first day of the year, the Church contemplates the heavenly Mother of God, who holds in her arms the Child Jesus, source of all blessings. "Hail, holy Mother, you have given birth to the King who rules heaven and earth for ever and ever."
The announcement of the angels in Bethlehem echoed in Mary's maternal heart, filling it with wonder: "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among men with whom he is pleased!" (Luke 2:14). And the Gospel adds that Mary "kept all these things, pondering them in her heart" (Luke 2:19). Like her, the Church also keeps and meditates on the Word of God, applying it with the different and changing situations she finds on her way.
Contemplating Christ, who came on earth to give us peace, we celebrate with the new year the World Day of Peace, which began by decision of Pope Paul VI thirty-eight years ago. In my first message on this occasion, I wanted to take up this year a constant theme in the magisterium of my venerated predecessors, beginning with the memorable encyclical of Blessed Pope John XXIII, "Pacem in Terris": the theme of truth as the foundation of authentic peace: "In Truth, Peace" is the motto that I present for the reflection of every person of good will.
When man allows himself to be illuminated by the splendor of truth, he becomes interiorly a courageous architect of peace. The liturgical time we are living gives us a great lesson: To welcome the gift of peace we must open ourselves to the truth that has been revealed in the person of Jesus, who taught us the "content" and at the same time the "method" of peace, that is, love.
God, in fact, who is perfect and subsistent love, revealed himself in Jesus, assuming our human condition. In this way he has also indicated to us the way of peace: dialogue, forgiveness, solidarity. This is the only way that leads to authentic peace.
Let us turn our gaze to Mary Most Holy, who today blesses the whole world showing her divine Son, the "Prince of Peace" (Isaiah 9:5). With trust, let us invoke her powerful intercession so that the human family, by opening itself to the evangelical message, might spend the year which begins today in fraternity and peace. With these sentiments I express to all of you here present, and to all those who are united to us through radio and television, my most cordial wishes for peace and goodness."
Benedict XVI comments on Psalm 143 (144): 1-8
"Lord, What Is Man That You Care for Him?"
1. Our journey through the Psalter used by the Liturgy of Vespers now brings us to a royal hymn, Psalm 143(144), of which the first part was proclaimed: In fact, the liturgy proposes this hymn dividing it in two sections.
The first part (cf. verses 1 to 8) reveals clearly the literary characteristic of this composition: The psalmist uses quotations from other texts of the Psalms, articulated in a new hymn and prayer.
Given that the psalm belongs to a later period, it is easy to imagine that the king who is exalted no longer has the features of the Davidic sovereign, since Jewish royalty ended with the Babylonian exile in the sixth century B.C., but rather those of the luminous and glorious figure of the Messiah, whose victory is no longer a martial-political event, but an intervention of liberation against evil. The "messiah," Greek word that indicated the "anointed one," is replaced by the "Messiah" par excellence, who in Christian literature has the face of Jesus Christ, "the son of David, the son of Abraham" (Matthew 1:1).
2. The hymn begins with a blessing, that is, with an exclamation of praise addressed to the Lord, celebrated with a little litany of salvific titles: He is the sure and stable rock, he is loving grace, he is the protected fortress, the refuge of defense, liberation, the shield that forestalls every evil assault (cf. Psalm 143[144]:1-2). Also appearing is the martial image of God who trains his faithful in the struggle so that he will be able to face the hostilities of the environment, the dark powers of the world.
Despite his royal dignity, before the Almighty Lord, the psalmist feels weak and fragile. Then he expresses a profession of humility that is formulated, as he already said, with the words of Psalms 8 and 38. He feels like "a breath," like "a passing shadow," inconsistent, submerged in the flux of time that passes, marked by the limitation proper to the creature (cf. Psalm 143[114]:4).
3. The question then arises: Why is God concerned about this very miserable and decrepit creature? To this question (cf. verse 3) the grandiose divine apparition responds, the so-called theophany that is accompanied by a procession of cosmic elements and historical events, oriented to celebrate the transcendence of the supreme King of being, of the universe and of history.
Thus, mention is made of mountains that spew forth smoke with volcanic eruptions (cf. verse 5), of flashes of lightning that seem like arrows flung against evildoers (cf. verse 6), of "many" oceanic "waters," symbol of the chaos from which the king is saved by the power of the same divine hand (cf. verse 7). In the background are the foreign foes who "speak untruth" and whose "[right hands are raised in lying oaths]" (cf. verses 7-8), a concrete representation, according to the Semitic style, of idolatry, moral perversion, of the evil that is truly opposed to God and to his faithful.
4. In our meditation, we now pause for a moment on the profession of humility expressed by the psalmist and we will make use of Origen's words, whose commentary on our text has come to us through St. Jerome's Latin version. "The psalmist speaks of the fragility of the body and of the human condition," as in virtue of the human condition, man is nothing. "Vanity of vanities; all is vanity," says Ecclesiastes. The question again arises of wonder and thanksgiving: "'Lord, what is man that you care for him? … It is a great happiness for man to know his own Creator. In this we are distinguished from beasts and other animals, as we know we have a Creator, while they do not know it."
It is worthwhile to meditate for a moment on these words of Origen, who sees the fundamental difference between man and the rest of animals in the fact that man is able to know God, his Creator, in the fact that man is capable of truth, of a knowledge that becomes a relationship, a friendship. In our time, it is important that we not forget God, along with the other knowledge that we have acquired in the meantime, which is so much! Such knowledge becomes problematic -- what is more, dangerous -- if the fundamental knowledge is lacking that gives meaning and orientation to everything, if knowledge of God the Creator is lacking.
Let us return to Origen. He says: "You will not be able to save this misery, which is man, if you yourself do not carry him on your shoulders. 'Bow thy heavens, O Lord, and come down.' Your abandoned sheep will not be able to cure itself if you do not carry it on your shoulders. … These words are addressed to the Son: 'Bow thy heavens, O Lord, and come down.' … You have come down, you have bowed the heavens and you have stretched out your hand from on high, and you have deigned to carry the flesh of man on your shoulders, and many believed in you" (Origen-Jerome, "74 Omelie sul Libro dei Salmi," Milan, 1993, pp. 512-515).
For us Christians, God is no longer, as in the philosophy prior to Christianity, a theory but a reality, as God has "bowed the heavens and come down." He himself is heaven, and has come down among us. With reason, Origen sees in the parable of the lost sheep, which the shepherd carries on his shoulders, the parable of the Incarnation of God. If, in the Incarnation, he has come down and has carried our flesh on his shoulders, he has carried us on his shoulders. In this way, the knowledge of God has become a reality, it has become friendship, communion. We give thanks to the Lord, as "he has bowed his heaven and come down," has carried our flesh on his shoulders and leads us on the paths of our life.
The psalm, which begins with the discovery that we are weak and removed from the divine splendor, at the end comes to this great surprise of the divine action: With us is the God-Emmanuel, which for Christianity has the loving face of Jesus Christ, God made man, made one of us.
1. Our journey through the Psalter used by the Liturgy of Vespers now brings us to a royal hymn, Psalm 143(144), of which the first part was proclaimed: In fact, the liturgy proposes this hymn dividing it in two sections.
The first part (cf. verses 1 to 8) reveals clearly the literary characteristic of this composition: The psalmist uses quotations from other texts of the Psalms, articulated in a new hymn and prayer.
Given that the psalm belongs to a later period, it is easy to imagine that the king who is exalted no longer has the features of the Davidic sovereign, since Jewish royalty ended with the Babylonian exile in the sixth century B.C., but rather those of the luminous and glorious figure of the Messiah, whose victory is no longer a martial-political event, but an intervention of liberation against evil. The "messiah," Greek word that indicated the "anointed one," is replaced by the "Messiah" par excellence, who in Christian literature has the face of Jesus Christ, "the son of David, the son of Abraham" (Matthew 1:1).
2. The hymn begins with a blessing, that is, with an exclamation of praise addressed to the Lord, celebrated with a little litany of salvific titles: He is the sure and stable rock, he is loving grace, he is the protected fortress, the refuge of defense, liberation, the shield that forestalls every evil assault (cf. Psalm 143[144]:1-2). Also appearing is the martial image of God who trains his faithful in the struggle so that he will be able to face the hostilities of the environment, the dark powers of the world.
Despite his royal dignity, before the Almighty Lord, the psalmist feels weak and fragile. Then he expresses a profession of humility that is formulated, as he already said, with the words of Psalms 8 and 38. He feels like "a breath," like "a passing shadow," inconsistent, submerged in the flux of time that passes, marked by the limitation proper to the creature (cf. Psalm 143[114]:4).
3. The question then arises: Why is God concerned about this very miserable and decrepit creature? To this question (cf. verse 3) the grandiose divine apparition responds, the so-called theophany that is accompanied by a procession of cosmic elements and historical events, oriented to celebrate the transcendence of the supreme King of being, of the universe and of history.
Thus, mention is made of mountains that spew forth smoke with volcanic eruptions (cf. verse 5), of flashes of lightning that seem like arrows flung against evildoers (cf. verse 6), of "many" oceanic "waters," symbol of the chaos from which the king is saved by the power of the same divine hand (cf. verse 7). In the background are the foreign foes who "speak untruth" and whose "[right hands are raised in lying oaths]" (cf. verses 7-8), a concrete representation, according to the Semitic style, of idolatry, moral perversion, of the evil that is truly opposed to God and to his faithful.
4. In our meditation, we now pause for a moment on the profession of humility expressed by the psalmist and we will make use of Origen's words, whose commentary on our text has come to us through St. Jerome's Latin version. "The psalmist speaks of the fragility of the body and of the human condition," as in virtue of the human condition, man is nothing. "Vanity of vanities; all is vanity," says Ecclesiastes. The question again arises of wonder and thanksgiving: "'Lord, what is man that you care for him? … It is a great happiness for man to know his own Creator. In this we are distinguished from beasts and other animals, as we know we have a Creator, while they do not know it."
It is worthwhile to meditate for a moment on these words of Origen, who sees the fundamental difference between man and the rest of animals in the fact that man is able to know God, his Creator, in the fact that man is capable of truth, of a knowledge that becomes a relationship, a friendship. In our time, it is important that we not forget God, along with the other knowledge that we have acquired in the meantime, which is so much! Such knowledge becomes problematic -- what is more, dangerous -- if the fundamental knowledge is lacking that gives meaning and orientation to everything, if knowledge of God the Creator is lacking.
Let us return to Origen. He says: "You will not be able to save this misery, which is man, if you yourself do not carry him on your shoulders. 'Bow thy heavens, O Lord, and come down.' Your abandoned sheep will not be able to cure itself if you do not carry it on your shoulders. … These words are addressed to the Son: 'Bow thy heavens, O Lord, and come down.' … You have come down, you have bowed the heavens and you have stretched out your hand from on high, and you have deigned to carry the flesh of man on your shoulders, and many believed in you" (Origen-Jerome, "74 Omelie sul Libro dei Salmi," Milan, 1993, pp. 512-515).
For us Christians, God is no longer, as in the philosophy prior to Christianity, a theory but a reality, as God has "bowed the heavens and come down." He himself is heaven, and has come down among us. With reason, Origen sees in the parable of the lost sheep, which the shepherd carries on his shoulders, the parable of the Incarnation of God. If, in the Incarnation, he has come down and has carried our flesh on his shoulders, he has carried us on his shoulders. In this way, the knowledge of God has become a reality, it has become friendship, communion. We give thanks to the Lord, as "he has bowed his heaven and come down," has carried our flesh on his shoulders and leads us on the paths of our life.
The psalm, which begins with the discovery that we are weak and removed from the divine splendor, at the end comes to this great surprise of the divine action: With us is the God-Emmanuel, which for Christianity has the loving face of Jesus Christ, God made man, made one of us.
Benedict XVI comments on Psalm 138 (139): 13-24
On the Embryo "God Has Already Turned His Loving Eyes"
1. At this general audience on Wednesday of the octave of Christmas, the liturgical feast of the Holy Innocents, let us resume our meditation on Psalm 138(139), proposed in the Liturgy of Vespers in two distinct stages. After contemplating in the first part (verses 112) the omniscient and omnipotent God, the Lord of being and history, this sapiential hymn of intense beauty and deep feeling now focuses on the loftiest, most marvelous reality of the entire universe: man, whose being is described as a "wonder" of God (verse 14).
Indeed, this topic is deeply in tune with the Christmas atmosphere we are living in these days in which we celebrate the great mystery of the Son of God who became man, indeed, became a Child, for our salvation.
After pondering on the gaze and presence of the Creator that sweeps across the whole cosmic horizon, in the second part of the Psalm on which we are meditating today Goel' turns his loving gaze upon the human being, whose full and complete beginning is reflected upon.
He is still an "unformed substance" in his mother's womb: The Hebrew term used has been understood by several biblical experts as referring to an "embryo," described in that term as a small, oval, curled-up reality, but on which God has already turned his benevolent and loving eyes (verse 16).
2. To describe the divine action within the maternal womb, the psalmist has recourse to classical biblical images, comparing the productive cavity of the mother to the "depths of the earth," that is, the constant vitality of great mother earth (verse 15).
First of all, there is the symbol of the potter and of the sculptor who "fashions" and moulds his artistic creation, his masterpiece, just as it is said about the creation of man in the Book of Genesis: "the Lord God formed man out of the clay of the ground" (Genesis 2:7).
Then there is a "textile" symbol that evokes the delicacy of the skin, the flesh, the nerves, "threaded" onto the bony skeleton. Job also recalled forcefully these and other images to exalt that masterpiece which the human being is, despite being battered and bruised by suffering: "Your hands have formed me and fashioned me. … Remember that you fashioned me from clay ...! Did you not pour me out as milk and thicken me like cheese? With skin and flesh you clothed me, with bones and sinews knit me together" (Job 10:8-11).
3. The idea in our psalm that God already sees the entire future of that embryo, still an "unformed substance," is extremely powerful. The days which that creature will live and fill with deeds throughout his earthly existence are already written in the Lord's book of life.
Thus, once again the transcendent greatness of divine knowledge emerges, embracing not only humanity's past and present but also the span, still hidden, of the future. However, the greatness of this little unborn human creature, formed by God\'s hands and surrounded by his love, also appears: a biblical tribute to the human being from the first moment of his existence.
Let us now entrust ourselves to the reflection that St. Gregory the Great in his Homilies on Ezekiel has interwoven with the sentence of the psalm on which we commented earlier: "Your eyes beheld my unformed substance; in your book were written every one of them [my days]" (verse 16). On those words the Pontiff and Father of the Church composed an original and delicate meditation concerning all those in the Christian community who falter on their spiritual journey.
And he says that those who are weak in faith and in Christian life are part of the architecture of the Church. "They are nonetheless added ... by virtue of good will. It is true, they are imperfect and little, yet as far as they are able to understand, they love God and their neighbor and do not neglect to do all the good that they can. Even if they do not yet attain spiritual gifts so as to open their soul to perfect action and ardent contemplation, yet they do not fall behind in love of God and neighbor, to the extent that they can comprehend it.
"Therefore, it happens that they too contribute to building the Church because, although their position is less important, although they lag behind in teaching, prophecy, the grace of miracles and complete distaste for the world, yet they are based on foundations of awe and love, in which they find their solidity\" (2, 3, 12-13, "Opere di Gregorio Magno," IIV 2, Rome, 1993, pp. 79, 81).
St. Gregory's message, therefore, becomes a great consolation to all of us who often struggle wearily along on the path of spiritual and ecclesial life. The Lord knows us and surrounds us all with his love.
1. At this general audience on Wednesday of the octave of Christmas, the liturgical feast of the Holy Innocents, let us resume our meditation on Psalm 138(139), proposed in the Liturgy of Vespers in two distinct stages. After contemplating in the first part (verses 112) the omniscient and omnipotent God, the Lord of being and history, this sapiential hymn of intense beauty and deep feeling now focuses on the loftiest, most marvelous reality of the entire universe: man, whose being is described as a "wonder" of God (verse 14).
Indeed, this topic is deeply in tune with the Christmas atmosphere we are living in these days in which we celebrate the great mystery of the Son of God who became man, indeed, became a Child, for our salvation.
After pondering on the gaze and presence of the Creator that sweeps across the whole cosmic horizon, in the second part of the Psalm on which we are meditating today Goel' turns his loving gaze upon the human being, whose full and complete beginning is reflected upon.
He is still an "unformed substance" in his mother's womb: The Hebrew term used has been understood by several biblical experts as referring to an "embryo," described in that term as a small, oval, curled-up reality, but on which God has already turned his benevolent and loving eyes (verse 16).
2. To describe the divine action within the maternal womb, the psalmist has recourse to classical biblical images, comparing the productive cavity of the mother to the "depths of the earth," that is, the constant vitality of great mother earth (verse 15).
First of all, there is the symbol of the potter and of the sculptor who "fashions" and moulds his artistic creation, his masterpiece, just as it is said about the creation of man in the Book of Genesis: "the Lord God formed man out of the clay of the ground" (Genesis 2:7).
Then there is a "textile" symbol that evokes the delicacy of the skin, the flesh, the nerves, "threaded" onto the bony skeleton. Job also recalled forcefully these and other images to exalt that masterpiece which the human being is, despite being battered and bruised by suffering: "Your hands have formed me and fashioned me. … Remember that you fashioned me from clay ...! Did you not pour me out as milk and thicken me like cheese? With skin and flesh you clothed me, with bones and sinews knit me together" (Job 10:8-11).
3. The idea in our psalm that God already sees the entire future of that embryo, still an "unformed substance," is extremely powerful. The days which that creature will live and fill with deeds throughout his earthly existence are already written in the Lord's book of life.
Thus, once again the transcendent greatness of divine knowledge emerges, embracing not only humanity's past and present but also the span, still hidden, of the future. However, the greatness of this little unborn human creature, formed by God\'s hands and surrounded by his love, also appears: a biblical tribute to the human being from the first moment of his existence.
Let us now entrust ourselves to the reflection that St. Gregory the Great in his Homilies on Ezekiel has interwoven with the sentence of the psalm on which we commented earlier: "Your eyes beheld my unformed substance; in your book were written every one of them [my days]" (verse 16). On those words the Pontiff and Father of the Church composed an original and delicate meditation concerning all those in the Christian community who falter on their spiritual journey.
And he says that those who are weak in faith and in Christian life are part of the architecture of the Church. "They are nonetheless added ... by virtue of good will. It is true, they are imperfect and little, yet as far as they are able to understand, they love God and their neighbor and do not neglect to do all the good that they can. Even if they do not yet attain spiritual gifts so as to open their soul to perfect action and ardent contemplation, yet they do not fall behind in love of God and neighbor, to the extent that they can comprehend it.
"Therefore, it happens that they too contribute to building the Church because, although their position is less important, although they lag behind in teaching, prophecy, the grace of miracles and complete distaste for the world, yet they are based on foundations of awe and love, in which they find their solidity\" (2, 3, 12-13, "Opere di Gregorio Magno," IIV 2, Rome, 1993, pp. 79, 81).
St. Gregory's message, therefore, becomes a great consolation to all of us who often struggle wearily along on the path of spiritual and ecclesial life. The Lord knows us and surrounds us all with his love.
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