The Art of Confession

by Father Chery, O.P. and translated by Father Demets, FSSP

The Apostle Thomas

The Apostle Thomas

"His Question Gives Us the Right … to Ask Jesus for Explanations"

VATICAN CITY, SEPT. 27, 2006 (Zenit.org).- Here is a translation of Benedict XVI's address at today's general audience, dedicated to present the figure of the Apostle Thomas.

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Dear Brothers and Sisters:

Continuing with our encounters with the Twelve Apostles chosen directly by Jesus, today we dedicate our attention to Thomas. Always present in the four lists of the New Testament, he is presented in the first three Gospels next to Matthew (cf. Matthew 10:3; Mark 3:18; Luke 6:15), while in the Acts of the Apostles he appears next to Philip (cf. Acts 1:13). His name stems from a Hebrew root, "ta'am," which means "twin." In fact, John's Gospel calls him sometimes with the nickname "Didymus" (cf. John 11:16; 20:24; 21:2), which in Greek means precisely "twin." The reason for this name is not clear.

The fourth Gospel, in particular, gives us some information which offers us some significant characteristics of his personality. The first is the exhortation he made to the other apostles when Jesus, at a critical moment of his life, decided to go to Bethany to raise Lazarus, thus coming dangerously close to Jerusalem (cf. Mark 10:32). On that occasion, Thomas said to his fellow disciples: "Let us also go, that we may die with him" (John 11:16). His determination when it came to following the Master is truly exemplary and gives us a precious teaching: It reveals the total willingness of adherence to Jesus to the point of identifying his own fate with His, and of wanting to share with Him the supreme trial of death.

In fact, what is most important is never to distance oneself from Jesus. When the Gospels use the verb "follow," they intend to explain that wherever he goes, his disciple must also go. Thus, Christian life is defined as a life with Jesus Christ, a life that must be spent with him. St. Paul wrote something similar when he calmed Christians of Corinth with these words: "You are in our hearts, to die together and to live together" (2 Corinthians 7:3). What is true between the Apostle and his Christians must also be true above all in the relationship between Christians and Jesus himself: to die together, to live together, to be in his heart as he is in ours.

A second intervention of Thomas is recorded in the Last Supper. On that occasion, Jesus, predicting his imminent departure, announces that he will go to prepare a place for the disciples so that they will also be where he is; and he specifies: "And you know the way where I am going" (John 14:4). Then Thomas intervenes, saying: "Lord, we do not know where you are going; how can we know the way?" (John 14:5).

In reality, with these words he places himself in a rather low level of understanding, but [his words] offer Jesus the opportunity to utter the famous definition: "I am the Way, and the Truth, and the Life" (John 14:6). Therefore, in the first instance, he makes this revelation to Thomas, but it is valid for all of us and for all times. Every time we hear or read these words, we can be in thought next to Thomas and imagine that the Lord also speaks with us as he spoke with him.

At the same time, his question also gives us the right, so to speak, to ask Jesus for explanations. We often do not understand him. We must have the courage to say to him: I do not understand you, Lord, hear me, help me to understand. In this way, with such frankness, which is the authentic way to pray, to converse with Jesus, we express the littleness of our capacity to understand, but at the same time we assume the attitude of trust of one who expects light and strength from the one able to give them.

Then, very well known, even proverbial, is the scene of Thomas' incredulity, which took place eight days after Easter. Initially, he did not believe that Jesus had appeared in his absence and had said: "Unless I see in his hands the print of the nails, and place my finger in the mark of the nails, and place my hand in his side, I will not believe" (John 20:25). Deep down, from these words emerges the conviction that Jesus is no longer recognized by his face, but rather by the wounds. Thomas believes that the characteristic signs of Jesus' identity are now above all his wounds, in which is revealed to what point he has loved us. In this the apostle is not mistaken.

As we know, eight days later, Jesus again appears to his disciples and on this occasion Thomas is present. And Jesus says to him: "Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side; do not be faithless, but believing" (John 20:27).

Thomas reacts with the most splendid profession of faith of the New Testament: "My Lord and my God!" (John 20:28). In this connection, St. Augustine comments: Thomas "saw and touched the man, but confessed his faith in God, whom he did not see or touch. But what he saw and touched led him to believe that which until then he had doubted" ("In Iohann" 121, 5). The evangelist continues with one last phrase of Jesus addressed to Thomas: "Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe" (John 20:29).

This phrase can also be enunciated in the present: "Blessed are those who do not see and believe." In any case, Jesus enunciates here a fundamental principle for Christians who will come after Thomas, that is, for all of us. It is interesting to observe how another Thomas, the great medieval theologian from Aquino, joins this blessedness with another referred to by Luke that seems opposed: "Blessed are the eyes that see what you see!" (Luke 10:23).

However, Thomas Aquinas comments: "He has much more merit who believes without seeing than he who seeing, believes" ("In Iohann. XX lectio" VI paragraph 2566). In fact, the Letter to the Hebrews, recalling all the series of ancient biblical patriarchs, who believed in God without seeing the fulfillment of his promises, defines faith as "guarantee of what is hoped for; the proof of realities that are not seen" (11:1).

The case of the Apostle Thomas is important for us at least for three reasons: first, because it consoles us in our insecurities; second, because it shows us that every doubt can have a luminous end beyond any uncertainty; and, finally, because the words that Jesus addressed to him remind us of the authentic meaning of mature faith and encourages us to continue, despite the difficulties, on the path of fidelity to Him.

The fourth Gospel has preserved for us a last note on Thomas, on presenting him as witness of the Risen One in the moment after the miraculous catch on the Lake of Tiberias (cf. John 21:2). On that occasion, he is mentioned also immediately after Simon Peter: an evident sign of the notable importance that he enjoyed in the ambit of the first Christian communities. In fact, in his name, were later written the "Acts" and the "Gospel of Thomas," both apocryphal, but in any case important for the study of Christian origins.

Let us recall, finally, that according to an ancient tradition, Thomas evangelized in the first instance Syria and Persia (so says Origen, as referred by Eusebius of Caesarea, "Hist. eccl." 3,1) and later went as far as western India (cf. "Acts of Thomas" 1-2: 17 and following), from where Christianity also later reached the south of India. We end our reflection with this missionary perspective, hoping that Thomas' example will increasingly confirm our faith in Jesus Christ, our Lord and our God.

[Translation by ZENIT]

[At the end of the audience, the Pope greeted pilgrims in several languages. In English, he said:]

Dear Brothers and Sisters:

Continuing our catechesis on the apostles, I wish to reflect today on Thomas the Twin. It is most especially in John's Gospel that we learn about Thomas. At a dangerous time in our Lord's life, when he decided to visit Lazarus in Bethany, it was Thomas who said: "Let us also go, that we may die with him." He shows us that the most important thing is never to distance oneself from Jesus. The life of a Christian is one spent together with the Lord.

At the Last Supper, it is Thomas who says: "Lord, we do not know where you are going, so how can we know the way?" His question leads to the celebrated response: "I am the Way, the Truth and the Life." Jesus also proclaims these words to us today.

A further episode in Thomas' life is well known to us all: that of the "doubting Thomas," who says "unless I see in his hands the print of the nails, and place my finger in the mark of the nails ... I will not believe." Yet, once Jesus appears to him he utters the most splendid profession of faith in all the New Testament: "My Lord and my God!"

Let us take heart from the life of Thomas: He comforts us in our uncertainty; shows us that doubt can lead to spiritual growth, and he helps us learn from Jesus the true meaning of mature faith, encouraging us to persevere as disciples of Christ!

I welcome all the English-speaking pilgrims present today, including participants in the Pauline Colloquium, Friends of L'Osservatore Romano, and the Villa Maria College choir from Christchurch, New Zealand. I also greet in a special way the Asian Mission Congress Delegates and Pilgrims from Thailand. Upon all of you I invoke God's blessings of peace and joy!

© Copyright 2006 -- Libreria Editrice Vaticana

Pope's Response to Priests on the Liturgy

Pope's Response to Priests on the Liturgy

"We Ourselves Must Interiorize the Structure, the Words"

CASTEL GANDOLFO, Italy, SEPT. 27, 2006 (Zenit.org).- Here is a translation of the third of five answers that Benedict XVI gave to as many questions from priests of the Diocese of Albano during a meeting Aug. 31 at papal summer residence of Castel Gandolfo. The residence is located in the diocese.

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The Liturgy

Father Vittorio Petruzzi, parochial vicar in Aprilia:

Your Holiness, for the pastoral year that is about to begin, our diocese was asked by the bishop to pay special attention to the liturgy, in the theological dimension and in celebrative practices. The central theme for reflection at the residential weeks in which we shall be taking part in September is "The Planning and Implementation of the Proclamation in the Liturgical Year, in Sacraments and in Sacramentals."

As priests, we are called to celebrate a "serious, simple and beautiful liturgy," to use a beautiful formula contained in the document "Communicating the Gospel in a Changing World" by the Italian bishops. Holy Father, can you help us to understand how all this can be expressed in the "ars celebrandi"?

Benedict XVI:

"Ars celebrandi": here too I would say that there are different dimensions. The first dimension is that the "celebration" is prayer and a conversation with God: God with us and us with God. Thus, the first requirement for a good celebration is that the priest truly enter this colloquy.

In proclaiming the Word, he feels himself in conversation with God. He is a listener to the Word and a preacher of the Word, in the sense that he makes himself an instrument of the Lord and seeks to understand this Word of God which he must then transmit to the people. He is in a conversation with God because the texts of holy Mass are not theatrical scripts or anything like them, but prayers, thanks to which, together with the assembly, I speak to God.

It is important, therefore, to enter into this conversation. St. Benedict in his Rule tells the monks, speaking of the recitation of the Psalms, "Mens concordet voci." The "vox," words, precede our mind. This is not usually the case: One has to think first, then one's thought becomes words. But here, the words come first. The sacred Liturgy gives us the words; we must enter into these words, find a harmony with this reality that precedes us.

In addition, we must also learn to understand the structure of the liturgy and why it is laid out as it is. The liturgy developed in the course of two millenniums and even after the Reformation was not something worked out by simply a few liturgists. It has always remained a continuation of this ongoing growth of worship and proclamation.

Thus, to be well in tune, it is very important to understand this structure that developed over time and to enter with our "mens" into the "vox" of the Church. To the extent that we have interiorized this structure, comprehended this structure, assimilated the words of the liturgy, we can enter into this inner consonance and thus not only speak to God as individuals, but enter into the "we" of the Church, which is praying. And we thus transform our "I" in this way, by entering into the "we" of the Church, enriching and enlarging this "I," praying with the Church, with the words of the Church, truly being in conversation with God.

This is the first condition: We ourselves must interiorize the structure, the words of the liturgy, the Word of God. Thus, our celebration truly becomes a celebration "with" the Church: Our hearts are enlarged and we are not doing just anything but are "with" the Church, in conversation with God. It seems to me that people truly feel that we converse with God, with them, and that in this common prayer we attract others, in communion with the children of God we attract others; or if not, we are only doing something superficial.

Thus, the fundamental element of the true "ars celebrandi" is this consonance, this harmony between what we say with our lips and what we think with our heart. The "Sursum corda," which is a very ancient word of the liturgy, should come before the Preface, before the liturgy, as the "path" for our speaking and thinking. We must raise our heart to the Lord, not only as a ritual response but as an expression of what is happening in this heart that is uplifted, and also lifts up others.

In other words, the "ars celebrandi" is not intended as an invitation to some sort of theater or show, but to an interiority that makes itself felt and becomes acceptable and evident to the people taking part. Only if they see that this is not an exterior or spectacular "ars" -- we are not actors! -- but the expression of the journey of our heart that attracts their hearts too, will the liturgy become beautiful, will it become the communion with the Lord of all who are present.

Of course, external things must also be associated with this fundamental condition, expressed in St. Benedict's words: "Mens concordet voci" -- the heart is truly raised, uplifted to the Lord. We must learn to say the words properly.

Sometimes, when I was still a teacher in my country, young people had read the sacred Scriptures. And they read them as one reads the text of a poem one has not understood. Naturally, to learn to say words correctly one must first understand the text with its drama, with its immediacy. It is the same for the Preface and for the Eucharistic Prayer.

It is difficult for the faithful to follow a text as long as our Eucharistic Prayer. For this reason these new "inventions" are constantly cropping up. However, with constantly new Eucharistic Prayers one does not solve the problem. The problem is that this is a moment that also invites others to silence with God and to pray with God. Therefore, things can only go better if the Eucharistic Prayer is said well and with the correct pauses for silence, if it is said with interiority but also with the art of speaking.

It follows that the recitation of the Eucharistic Prayer requires a moment of special attention if it is to be spoken in such a way that it involves others. I believe we should also find opportunities in catechesis, in homilies and in other circumstances to explain this Eucharistic Prayer well to the People of God so that they can follow the important moments -- the account and the words of the Institution, the prayer for the living and the dead, the thanksgiving to the Lord and the epiclesis -- if the community is truly to be involved in this prayer.

Thus, the words must be pronounced properly. There must then be an adequate preparation. Altar servers must know what to do; lectors must be truly experienced speakers. Then the choir, the singing, should be rehearsed: And let the altar be properly decorated. All this, even if it is a matter of many practical things, is part of the "ars celebrandi."

But to conclude, the fundamental element is this art of entering into communion with the Lord, which we prepare for as priests throughout our lives.

[The two previous responses were published by ZENIT on Sept. 22 and 24. Translation of the Italian original issued by the Holy See; adapted]

© Copyright 2006 -- Libreria Editrice Vaticana

Scriptural Basis of the Mass as Sacrifice

Scriptural Basis of the Mass as Sacrifice

And More on Withholding Holy Communion

ROME, SEPT. 26, 2006 (Zenit.org).- Answered by Father Edward McNamara, professor of liturgy at the Regina Apostolorum university.

Q: Where are we commanded to have a sacrifice in our formal worship of God? Protestants, for the most part, worship with singing, some collective prayers and long sermons. Where in the Bible does it say that proper worship contains a sacrifice? Also a review of where in the Bible the Mass parts come from and why we include them in Mass would be useful. Again, it will come down to convincing a "sola scriptura" believer that Scripture says we must do it. Any help would be appreciated. -- J.C., Leavenworth, Kansas

A: A full answer to this question exceeds the possibilities of this column. There are, however, many worthy resources available online. Web sites such as Catholic Answers contain, among other elements, Father Mitch Pacwa's "Is the Mass a Sacrifice?"

The Old Testament contains many divine commands to perform sacrifices. All of the complex liturgical rituals described in Leviticus, for example, are ostensibly commanded by God through Moses.

Perhaps the most important sacrifices commanded by God in the Old Testament were those in which the Almighty sealed a covenant. This includes the one with Noah after the flood, the pact made with Abraham, and above all the sacrifice of the paschal lamb in Egypt, a covenant that was completed 50 days later with another sacrifice at Sinai.

It was this covenant that was renewed each year at the Passover by means of a sacrificial ritual that was a "memorial" ("zikkaron" in Hebrew). It was not a mere recalling but rather one that ritually made present and ratified and renewed the saving events that had occurred so many years before.

For Catholics, the central divine command to worship, using a sacrifice, came from the lips of Christ when he told the apostles at the Last Supper, "Do this as in memory of me."

In doing so, he specifically recalled the Jewish Passover as a memorial and applied it to himself and his upcoming sacrifice on the cross, with a totally new and definitive meaning.

In this context Our Lord's words "This is my body, which is given for you" (Luke 22:19) correspond to those of Exodus 12:27: "[This ritual] is the sacrifice of the Passover in honor of Yahweh" when he freed Israel from slavery in Egypt.

The words "For this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins" (Matthew 26:28) echo those of Exodus 24:8 when Moses says: "This … is the blood of the covenant that Yahweh has made with you."

We are thus before a unique sacrifice, the memorial sacrament of Christ's paschal sacrifice. Through it he has brought salvation to all mankind and sealed a new and eternal covenant in his blood.

Although the apostles probably did not immediately grasp the full meaning of Christ's gesture in the cenacle, their reflection on his words and actions and their familiarity with the Passover as a memorial quickly led them to understand that Our Lord had commanded them to repeat the ritual that he had established.

They understood that this ritual was the definitive paschal sacrifice which made present Christ's unique sacrifice on Calvary and in doing so ratified and renewed the new and eternal covenant.

Therefore, God has commanded us to worship with a sacrifice, his own unique sacrifice.

All other forms of ritual sacrifice have fallen by the wayside as Christ's sacrifice has an infinite worth that absorbs all the values and intentions expressed in the ancient sacrifices.

The Mass is a sacrifice insofar as it is the memorial that ritually renews and makes present to us, in time, Christ's once-and-for-all sacrifice on the cross.

The personal prayers and sacrifices of Christians reach their fulfillment when they are united to Christ's sacrifice through full, devout and active participation at Mass.

As to where in the Bible the various parts of the Mass are found, the answer is less clear. In a way it is everywhere and nowhere.

Everywhere, because the entire Mass is animated by Scripture. Almost all of the prayers and texts have a scriptural background and the entire rite is developed as a fruit of Christ's command to continue his actions.

Nowhere, in the sense that we will not find explicit commands to say, "Sing the Sanctus after the preface." Rather, the ritual has developed over time as a response to the scriptural exhortation to pray, to repeat the sacrifice, etc.

In this case even a Protestant would have to accept that the details of his worship (songs, psalms and long sermons, etc.) are found in the Bible only in very general terms.

The Most Difficult Sacrament

The Most Difficult Sacrament

From Bishop Boyce's Homily at Knock

KNOCK, Ireland, SEPT. 25, 2006 (Zenit.org).- Here is an excerpt from a homily delivered by Bishop Philip Boyce during the Raphoe Diocesan Pilgrimage to the Marian shrine at Knock last month. The excerpt focuses on the sacrament of reconciliation.

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Confession is the most challenging and difficult of the sacraments, because in it we lay bare our inmost thoughts, our weaknesses and sins that shame us, our deepest motives. This we do to another human person, a priest who, we know in faith, takes the place of God. It can be very humiliating. And yet we get untold benefits of freedom, forgiveness, peace, healing and strength from this sacrament. We sin as individuals. We also have to make an individual confession. It does us good to go on our knees, put our sinful deeds into words before an ordained priest, face up to the truth about ourselves and entrust our lives to God's merciful and just love.

Indeed, in a Synod for Europe held in 1991, the bishops saw the sacrament of reconciliation playing a fundamental role in the recovery of hope for our ancient continent. They said: "One of the roots of the helplessness that assails many people today is found in their inability to see themselves as sinners and to allow themselves to be forgiven, an inability often resulting from the isolation of those who, by living as if God did not exist, have no one from whom they can seek forgiveness" (John Paul II, "Ecclesia in Europa," No. 76). In some ways they are among those whom St. Paul describes as "having no hope and without God in this world" (Ephesians 2:10).

Thanks be to God, we should say, for our faith and for the sacrament of confession!

At times we do not appreciate the treasures we have in our Catholic faith. At other times we take them for granted. Yet many are those who experience the spiritual benefits of confession. The first effect and principal purpose of this sacrament is reconciliation with God. Anyone who makes a good confession with a contrite heart and a firm purpose of amendment is sure that God has blotted out the sin that weighed on his conscience. That person is certain of having been restored to God's friendship and to the blessings of a child of God.

A silent weight is lifted off the mind as a result of a good confession. The gnawing worry caused by a troubled conscience gives way to peace of soul. As our Catechism says: "For those who receive the sacrament of Penance with contrite heart and religious disposition, reconciliation is usually followed by peace and serenity of conscience with strong spiritual consolation. Indeed the sacrament of Reconciliation with God brings about a true 'spiritual resurrection,' restoration of the dignity and blessings of the life of the children of God, of which the most precious is friendship with God" (CCC 1468).

I remember one time I visited a Marian shrine on mainland Europe, in Belgium. One evening as I walked around I met a lady who was looking for the confessional area and may not have been receiving the sacraments very often. "Father, could you tell me where I could get the sacrament of …" and she hesitated for a minute. Then she continued: "Where I could get the sacrament of resurrection." I thought it was a very good description of confession. For that is what it truly is: a sacrament that gives a true spiritual resurrection from sin to friendship with God, from slavery to freedom, from darkness to light.

If we have committed a grave or mortal sin, we must go to individual confession before receiving holy Communion. But we need not be great sinners or be away from the sacrament for years or have grave sins on our conscience to go to confession. In fact, the Church asks those who wish to make progress in holiness, or who are more deeply united to God in the religious or consecrated life, to avail of the sacrament of reconciliation more frequently -- not because they are greater sinners but because they need more grace and strength to live a holy life. "The purpose of the sacrament of penance is to make saints as well as to save sinners" (L. Trese). In fact the grace of this sacrament gives strength for the journey ahead; it inoculates against temptation and heals the wounds we receive in the good fight of every day against the weaknesses and selfish inclinations of our fallen nature.

Confession is indeed the sacrament of pardon and of new life. It is often a forum where a soul receives advice, encouragement, counsel and direction. This sacrament accompanies a Christian on the way to perfection. "It would be an illusion to want to strive for holiness in accordance with the vocation that God has given to each one of us without frequently and fervently receiving this sacrament of conversion and sanctification" (John Paul II, March 27, 2004). In fact, it contains limitless possibilities of healing and growth.

Moreover, this sacrament reconciles us not only with God, but also with others whom our sin has wounded or against whom our sinful ways have set up a barrier of discord or enmity. Here we are reconciled with the Church whose life our sin had weakened. We are reconciled with our brothers and sisters with whom our fraternal communion was damaged by our sinful actions. We are also reconciled with ourselves in our inmost heart and regain our peace of conscience.

A famous convert, John Henry Cardinal Newman, who knew what it was to be deprived of sacramental confession and then who experienced its benefits, once wrote:

"How many are the souls, in distress, anxiety or loneliness, whose one need is to find a being to whom they can pour out their feelings unheard by the world? Tell them out they must; they cannot tell them out to those whom they see every hour. They want to tell them and not to tell them; and they want to tell them out, yet be as if they be not told; they wish to tell them to one who is strong enough to bear them, yet not too strong to despise them; they wish to tell them to one who can at once advise and can sympathize with them; they wish to relieve themselves of a load, to gain a solace, to receive the assurance that there is one who thinks of them, and one to whom in thought they can recur, to whom they can betake themselves, if necessary, from time to time, while they are in world" ("The Present Position of Catholics," p. 351).

And later he added the phrase in a sermon: "Happy all Catholics, if they knew their happiness" (Sermon Notes, p. 200).

Although the sacrament of penance may be "laborious" at times, it has been seen since the first centuries of Christianity as a "second plank following shipwreck" (Tertullian), that is, another chance to have sins committed after baptism forgiven and a broken or weakened friendship with Christ restored. In a world threatened by sin, it is a sacrament given to us to enable us to grow in the spiritual life and reach union with God.

L. Bouyer on Fasting and Continence

From Introduction to Spirituality (NY: Desclee Company, 1961), 179-183.

Prayer is connected with fasting by Christ Himself. For it seems that there must be a certain privation with regard to physical repletion in order to be disposed for spiritual food.

Today we are almost completely unused to fasting. We tend, unquestionably, in harmony with the cult of comfort in which our whole era involves us, not even to see the sense of fasting. And yet, to remain hungry from time to time and, more generally, to deprive oneself not only of what is superfluous, but even, for the moment, of a little of what seems necessary--that is, without any doubt, a practice essential for that liberation, that stripping of oneself without which we cannot give a certain degree of attention to God.

Thus fasting is especially connected with periods particularly sacred to prayer, such as Lent, and it is even more closely connected with the practice of almsgiving. St. Leo the Great, in his Lenten homilies, has brought this out with his own special clarity: what is given to our neighbor in alms should be taken from our own self-satisfaction by fasting. True almsgiving and realistic fasting should be simply two inseparable aspects of one and the same ascetic practice, in which charity is nourished by renunciation. There is no Christian almsgiving, no sacrifice for others, which is, as it should be, a sacrifice of charity, unless its converse is some privation consented to, accepted joyfully. And, equally, what takes away from fasting the appearance of gratuitous mortification is to have as the immediate reason for denying ourselves the carrying out of some precise and, as far as possible, personalized act of generosity. It might even be said that the purifying efficacy of the mortification fo fasting, and the impetus it gives to our prayer will be in function of the very concrete preoccupation with our neighbor and his needs that goes along with it.

Fasting itself is only an elementary form of that doing without, that abstinence which should hold in check the continually threatening unruliness of our desires; it should habitually cut down the idolatry with which all our pleasures, even the most legitimate, are fraught. We need, unwearingly, to undo that accomodation to the world which here ensnares us and would speedily, if we yielded to it without resistance, stupify us spiritually. The constraints proper to work of all kinds are particularly effective here (getting up at a regular time early in the morning, generaly self-discipline in the use of time, the greater or lesser impossibility of being one's own master in professional life, and still more, perhaps, especially for the mother, in family life, etc.) These, nevertheless, are not enough, particularly to counterbalanace the softening effects of comfort and more generally, of the pervasive sensuality in which contemporary civilization bathes us.

Yet we should also give this civilization due credit for the manful habits which it has brought back, to which we can give Christian meaning and value--for example, physical hygiene and exercise.

Water as a form of therapy--and particularly the generous employment of cold water--is for children, perhaps, the best and most natural means of initiation into asceticism. A well-regulated use of it can do great good to adults also, becoming a more healthy and efficacious practice than all sorts of artificial mortifications. The mystical wisdom fo St. Teresa was quite down-to-earth enough to realize this fact.

More generally, the practice of some form of physical exercise, austere in itself and involving us in all kinds of effort and inconveniences, can provide material for self-discipline that is properly ascetic, in the sense that the word has taken on in spirituality.

Is it necessary, in this connection, to denounce the false asceticism (actually the routine and, to tell the whole truth, "bourgeois" sloth) which, in too many "religious" and clerical circles dresses up in empty formulae a simple lack of virility? There are too many communities in which the belief is still current that one unused or unusable bathroom is an indication of spirituality, too many seminaries in which it would seem as if the preparation for a self-sacrificing priesthood could take place only in an atmosphere of ammonia...!

It goes without saying, however, (or it should) that the abstentions, the self-disciplining practised by every Christian are no less important in the field of sexuality than in that of comfort or food. To say this--contrary to what many people today tend to believe, that artificially prolonging an adolescent kind of eroticism throughout their lives--is not to imply any condemnation of sexuality as such. Quite the opposite. The particular necessity for everyone, married or not, of sexual asceticism has been made the more imperative with the modern rediscovery of the centrality of sexuality in human sensibility (and in much more than sensibility alone). To the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, which tended to see in sexual relations no more than a physical pleasure, in itself inconsequential, the unruliness of the sexual instinct might well seem of little importance. But to us, to whom depth-psychology has revealed the human fullness of every sexual experience, the traditional Christian statement of the case should no longer cause any difficulty.

In fact, while an asceticism of sensual privations is obviously imposed on those vowed to celibacy by their vocation, it would be naive to think that it is not needed by married people as well. From the moment that we admit what is at the basis not only of every Christian marriage but of every marriage that wishes to be fully human--that each person must find self-fulfillment in and by the fulfillment of the other--an asceticism of this kind is imposed. Each person's desires or inclinations must necessarily be kept well in hand and therefore restrained at certain times, out of respect for the desires and inclinations of the other. If one or the other does not know how to abstain at certain moments, then there will necessairly by the tendency to seek egotistical enjoyment, first apart from the joy of the other, then contrary to it.

It should also be noted, that the unruliness of all our desires, which is the consequence of sin, manifests itself in the field of sexuality particularly through the relative anonymity, the impersonality of desire. Fidelity to husband or wife cannot, therefore, be preserved without the disciplining of desire, and this cannot be acquired or retained without a certain practice of deliberate abstinence. The person who is accustomed to give in immediately to any desire, even one which is in principle legitimate, will one day, almost inevitably, cometo give in also to illegitimate desire.

And, finally, it is indisputable that, among all our activities, spiritual as well as physical, sexual love is one of the most absorbing in our whole psychology. This is in no way to condemn it, but rather to recognize what constitutes its grandeur and, at the same time, its danger for the sinful beings we are; it will in no way spoil or paralyze the healthy and pure exuberance of married love if husband and wife deprive themselves of its natural manifestations from time to time, by mutual consent. On the contrary, as having become the object of a truly free consent, of a personality which has achieved self-mastery, such deprivation cannot but bring to the affection of husband and wife a new depth, a more integrally human beuaty, and so a new worth.

This particular kind of fasting, while it will give to married persons the opportunity of coming nearer to God in that solitude which is the condition sine qua non of a deepening of prayer, will give them at the same time a new power of spiritualizing their union itself. This is not to say, however, that it should necessarily tend to become discarnate in order to progress and be deepened. But there is no doubt that what is of the flesh must, if it is to acquire the spiritualization of which it is capable, first be mastered, rather than be allowed to enslave everything in the marriage relationship.

Father Cantalamessa Asks: Who Is Jesus for You?

Father Cantalamessa Asks: Who Is Jesus for You?

Pontifical Household Preacher on This Sunday's Gospel

ROME, SEPT. 15, 2006 (Zenit.org).- Here is a translation of a commentary by Capuchin Father Raniero Cantalamessa, preacher to the Pontifical Household, on the liturgical readings for this Sunday's liturgical readings.

* * *

Who Do You Say That I Am?

Isaiah 50:5-9a; James 2:14-18; Mark 8:27-35

The three synoptic Gospels refer to the episode of Jesus when, in Caesarea Philippi he asked his apostles what people thought of him. The common fact in the three Gospels is Peter's response: "You are the Christ."

Matthew adds: "the Son of the living God" (Matthew 16:16) which could, however, be a manifestation due to the faith of the Church after Easter.

Soon the title "Christ" became Jesus' second name. It is mentioned more than 500 times in the New Testament, almost always in the composite form "Jesus Christ" or "Our Lord Jesus Christ."

However, it was not so in the beginning. Between Jesus and Christ a verb was understood: "Jesus is the Christ." To say "Christ" was not to call Jesus by his name, but to make an affirmation about him.

Christ, we know, is the Greek translation of the Hebrew Mashiah, or Messiah, and both mean "anointed." The term derives from the fact that in the Old Testament kings, prophets and priests, at the moment of their election, were consecrated through an anointing with perfumed oil.

But increasingly in the Bible there clearly is talk of a special anointed or consecrated one who will come in the end times to fulfill God's promises of salvation to his people. It is the so-called biblical messianism, which takes on different hues according to how the Messiah is seen as a future king (royal messianism) or as Daniel's son of man (apocalyptic messianism).

The whole primitive tradition of the Church is unanimous in proclaiming that Jesus of Nazareth is the awaited Messiah. He himself, according to Mark, will proclaim himself such before the Sanhedrin. To the question of the High Priest: "Are you the Christ, the Son of the Blessed?" He replies: "I am" (Mark 14:61 ff.).

So much more disconcerting, therefore, is the continuation of Jesus' dialogue with the disciples in Caesarea Philippi: "And he commanded them energetically not to speak about him to any one."

However, the motive is clear. Jesus accepts being identified with the awaited Messiah, but not with the idea that Judaism had made for itself of the Messiah. In the prevailing opinion, the Messiah was seen as a political and military leader who would liberate Israel from pagan dominion and establish the kingdom of God on earth by force.

Jesus had to profoundly correct this idea, shared by his own apostles, before allowing them to talk of him as the Messiah. To this end is oriented the discourse that follows immediately: "And he began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer many things."

The harsh word addressed to Peter, which seeks to dissuade him from such thoughts: "Get behind me, Satan!" is identical with that addressed to the tempter of the desert.

In both cases, in fact, it is about the same attempt to deflect him from the path that the Father has indicated to him -- that of the suffering servant of Yahweh -- to another which is "according to men, not according to God."

Salvation will come from the sacrifice of himself, from "giving his life in ransom for many," not from the elimination of the enemy. In this way, from a temporal salvation one passes to an eternal salvation, from a particular salvation -- destined for only one people -- one passes to a universal salvation.

Regrettably we must state that Peter's error has been repeated in history. Also certain men of the Church, and even Successors of Peter, have behaved at certain times as if the Kingdom of God was of this world and should be affirmed with the victory (if necessary also with arms) over enemies, instead of doing so with suffering and martyrdom.

All the words of the Gospel are timely, but the dialogue of Caesarea Philippi is so in an altogether special way. The situation has not changed. Also today, people have very diverse opinions on Jesus: a prophet, a great teacher, a great personality. It has become fashionable to present Jesus in shows and novels, in customs and in the strangest messages. The "Da Vinci Code" is only the latest in a long series.

In the Gospel, Jesus does not seem to be surprised by people's opinions, nor does he take time to deny them. He only poses a question to his disciples, and he does so also today: "For you, who am I for you?"

A leap must be taken that does not come from the flesh or from blood, but is a gift of God which must be accepted through the docility of an interior light from which faith is born. Every day there are men and women who take this leap.

Sometimes it is famous people -- actors, actresses, men of culture -- and then they make news. But infinitely more numerous are the unknown believers. At times nonbelievers interpret these conversions as weakness, sentimental crises or a search for popularity, and it might be that in some cases it is so. But it would be a lack of respect of the conscience of the rest to cast discredit on every story of conversion.

One thing is certain: Those who have taken this leap will not go back for anything in the world, and more than that, they are surprised to have been able to live for so long without the light and strength that comes from faith in Christ.

Like St. Hillary of Poitiers, who converted when he was an adult, they are willing to exclaim: "Before knowing you, I did not exist."

[Translation by ZENIT]

St. John Chrysostom, correspondence with Pope Innocent

here

Lowliness of Mind

A Treatise to Prove That No One Can Harm the Man Who Does Not Injure Himself

Three Homilies Concerning the Power of Demons

Stuff on infallibility and the ordinary magisteruim

Culled from Pontifications, here and here

Ansgar Santogrossi, O.S.B., Ordinatio Sacerdotalis: a definition ex cathedra
Tarcisio Bertone, S.D.B., Magisterial documents and public dissent
Mark Lowery, Infallibility in the Context of Three Contemporary Developments
Fr Adriano Garuti O.F.M., PROBLEM OF DISSENT IN LIGHT OF THE 'COMMENTARY ON THE CONCLUDING FORMULA OF THE PROFESSION OF FAITH'

Peter Pilsner, IS "ORDINATIO SACERDOTALIS" AN INFALLIBLE EXERCISE OF THE EXTRAORDINARY PAPAL MAGISTERIUM?

Livio Melina, THE ROLE OF THE ORDINARY MAGISTERIUM: ON FRANCIS SULLIVAN'S CREATIVE FIDELITY

Lawrence J. Welch, “The Infallibility of the Ordinary Universal Magisterium: A Critique of Some Recent Observations,” Heythrop Journal 39 (1998) 18-36.

QUAESTIO DISPUTATA REPLY TO RICHARD GAILLARDETZ ON THE ORDINARY UNIVERSAL MAGISTERIUM AND TO FRANCIS SULLIVAN , By: Welch, Lawrence J., Sullivan, Francis A., Theological Studies, September 1, 2003, Vol. 64, Issue 3 p 598-609

Another reply by Welch.

Stephen Todd Kaster, “Lumen Gentium and the Ordinary and Universal Magisterium.”

Plus, I found this:
From SiSiNoNo, Clear Ideas on the Pope's Infallible Magisterium

Benedict XVI: The Apostle Philip

The Apostle Philip

"He Invites Us to Come and See Jesus"

VATICAN CITY, SEPT. 6, 2006 (Zenit.org).- Here is a translation of the address Benedict XVI gave today at the general audience, held in St. Peter's Square. The Pope dedicated his talk to present the figure of the Apostle Philip.

* * *

Dear Brothers and Sisters:

Continuing to sketch the portrait of the various apostles, as we have been doing for some weeks, we meet today with Philip. In the lists of the Twelve he always appears in fifth place (in Matthew 10:3; Mark 3:18; Luke 6:14; Acts 1:13), that is, essentially among the first.

Although Philip was of Jewish origin, his name is Greek, as is Andrew's, which constitutes a small gesture of cultural openness that must not be underestimated. The news we have of him comes from the Gospel of John. He was from the same place as Peter and Andrew, namely, Bethsaida (cf. John 1:44), a small city that belonged to the tetrarchy of one of Herod the Great's sons, who was also called Philip (cf. Luke 3:1).

The fourth Gospel says that, after being called by Jesus, Philip meets with Nathanael and tells him: "We have found him of whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph" (John 1:45). In face of Nathanael's rather skeptical response -- "Can anything good come out of Nazareth?" -- Philip does not give up and answers decisively: "Come and see" (John 1:46).

With this response, dry but clear, Philip demonstrates the characteristics of the authentic witness: He is not content with presenting the announcement as a theory, but questions the interlocutor directly, suggesting that he himself have the personal experience of what was proclaimed. Jesus uses those two same verbs when two disciples of John the Baptist approach him to ask him where he lives: Jesus answers: "Come and see" (cf. John 1:38-39).

We can think that Philip questions us with those two verbs which imply a personal participation. He also tells us what he said to Nathanael: "Come and see." The apostle commits us to know Jesus up close. In fact, friendship, to truly know the other, requires closeness, what is more, in part lives from it. In fact, we must not forget that, according to what Mark writes, Jesus chose the Twelve with the primary objective that they "be with him" (Mark 3:14), that is, that they share his life and learn directly from him not only the style of his behavior, but above all who he really was.

Only thus, participating in his life, could they know and proclaim him. Later on, in the Letter of Paul to the Ephesians, we read that what is important is "the Christ that they learned" (4:20), that is, what is important is not only or above all to listen to his teachings, his words, but to know him personally, that is, his humanity and divinity, the mystery of his beauty.

He is not only a Teacher, but a Friend, more than that, a Brother. How can we know him if we are far from him? Intimacy, familiarity, custom, make us discover the true identity of Jesus Christ. This is precisely what the Apostle Philip reminds us. That is why he invites us to "come" and "see," that is, to enter into a contact of listening, of response and communion of life with Jesus, day after day.

On the occasion of the multiplication of loaves, he received from Jesus a precise request, quite surprising: Where was it possible to buy the bread needed to feed all the people who were following him (cf. John 6:5). Then, Philip answered with much realism: "Two hundred days' wages worth of food would not be enough for each of them to have a little" (John 6:7).

Here we can see the realism and practical spirit of the apostle, who was able to judge the implications of a situation. We know what happened afterward. We know that Jesus took the loaves, and after praying, distributed them. In this way, he effected the multiplication of the loaves. But it is an interesting fact that Jesus addressed Philip specifically, to have a first impression on the solution of the problem: evident sign that he formed part of the restricted group that surrounded him.

In another instance, very important for the future history, before the Passion, some Greeks were in Jerusalem on the occasion of the Passover, they "came to Philip … and asked him, 'Sir, we would like to see Jesus.' Philip went and told Andrew; then Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus" (John 12:20-22). Once again we are before a vestige of his particular prestige within the apostolic college. In this case, in particular, he carries out the functions of intermediary between the request of some Greeks -- he probably spoke Greek and was able to act as interpreter -- and Jesus; though he joins Andrew, the other apostle with a Greek name, in any case, the foreigners turn to him.

This teaches us also to be willing both to accept requests and invocations, wherever they come from, as well as to direct them to the Lord, as only he can satisfy them fully. It is important, in fact, to know that we are not the last recipients of the requests of those who approach us, but the Lord: We must direct to him those who are in difficulties. Each one of us must be an open path to him!

There is another highly particular opportunity in which Philip intervenes. During the Last Supper, after Jesus affirmed that to know him also meant to know the Father (cf. John 14:7), Philip, almost naively asked him: "Master, show us the Father, and that will be enough for us" (John 14:8).

Jesus answered him in a tone of benevolent reproach: "Have I been with you for so long a time and you still do not know me, Philip? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, 'Show us the Father'? Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me? […] Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me" (John 14:9-11). They are one of the most sublime words of the Gospel of John. They contain an authentic revelation. At the end of the "Prologue" of his Gospel, John affirms: " No one has ever seen God. The only Son, God, who is at the Father's side, has revealed him" (John 1:18).

Well then, that statement, which is of the evangelist, is taken up and confirmed by Jesus himself, but with a detail. In fact, while John's "Prologue" speaks of an explanatory intervention of Jesus through the words of his teaching, in his answer to Philip, Jesus makes reference to his own person as such, leading us to understand that he can only be understood through what he says, more than that, through what he is. To help us understand, using the paradox of the Incarnation, we can say that God assumed a human face, that of Jesus, and consequently, from now on, if we really want to know the face of God, we have only to contemplate Jesus' face! In his face we really see who God is and how he is!

The evangelist does not tell us if Philip understood Jesus' phrase fully. What is certain is that he handed his life over to him totally. According to some subsequent accounts ("Acts of Philip" and others), our apostle evangelized Greece in the first instance and then Phrygia, and there he faced death, in Hieropolis, with a torture that some mention as crucifixion and others as stoning.

We wish to end our reflection recalling the objective toward which our life should be directed: to find Jesus, as Philip found him, trying to see in him God himself, the heavenly Father. If this commitment is lacking, we find ourselves alone with ourselves, as before a mirror, and we are ever more alone! Instead, Philip invites us to let ourselves be conquered by Jesus, to be with him and to share this indispensable company. In this way, seeing, finding God, we can find true life.

[Translation by ZENIT]

[At the end of the audience, the Holy Father greeted pilgrims in several languages. In English, he said:]

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

Continuing our catechesis on the Church's apostolic ministry, we now turn to the Apostle Philip. Philip was a native of Bethsaida, like Peter and Andrew. In the Gospel of John, it was Philip who told Nathanael about Jesus and then led him to the Lord with the words "Come and see!" (John 1:46).

Later, when some Greeks wished to see Jesus, they asked Philip and he immediately brought them to him (John 12:20-22). Like every good evangelist, Philip not only spoke to others about Christ, but invited them to meet him personally.

Jesus in fact chose his apostles "to be with him" (Mark 3:14) and in this way to know him and become his friends. At the Last Supper, Philip asked: "Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied," to which Jesus replied: "Whoever has seen me, has seen the Father" (John 14:9-11).

To know Jesus is to know God. In Jesus, the eternal Son, God takes on a human face. According to tradition, Philip died a martyr's death after preaching the Gospel in Greece and Phrygia. By his example and prayers, may we deepen our friendship with Jesus and joyfully invite others to "come and see" the Lord.

I warmly welcome all the English-speaking pilgrims present at this audience, including members of the Brothers of Charity services in County Cork, Ireland, and the staff and students from St. Joseph's Institute in Copenhagen. May your time in Rome deepen your love of Christ and his Church. Upon you all I invoke God's abundant blessings!

© Copyright 2006 -- Libreria Editrice Vaticana [adapted]

Benedict XVI: Gregory the Great as Model

Gregory the Great as Model

"The Life of the Pastor Must Be a Balanced Synthesis"

CASTEL GANDOLFO, Italy, SEPT. 3, 2006 (ZENIT.org).- Here is a translation of the address Benedict XVI gave today before reciting the midday Angelus with crowds at the papal summer residence of Castel Gandolfo.

* * *

Dear Brothers and Sisters:

Today the Roman calendar remembers St. Gregory the Great, Pope and doctor of the Church (about the years 540-604). His singular figure, I would say almost unique, is an example that must be presented both to pastors of the Church as well as public administrators: In fact, first he was prefect and later Bishop of Rome.

As an imperial official, he was outstanding for his administrative capacity and moral integrity, to the point that, when only 30 years old, he held the highest civil office of "prefect of the city" ("Praefectus Urbis").

Meanwhile, maturing in his interior was the vocation to the monastic life which he embraced in the year 574, when his father died. Thereafter the Benedictine Rule became the foundation of his life. Even when he was sent by the Pope as his representative to the emperor of the East, he had a monastic, simple and poor lifestyle.

When being called back to Rome, though he lived in a monastery, he was a close collaborator of Pope Pelagius II, and, when the latter died, victim of a plague epidemic, Gregory was acclaimed by all as his successor.

He tried in every way to avoid the appointment, but in the end had to give in and, leaving the cloister with regret, dedicated himself to the community, aware that he was doing his duty and that he was a simple "servant of the servants of God."

"He is not really humble," he wrote, "who understands that he must be leader of others by decree of the divine will and yet disdains this pre-eminence. If on the contrary he submits to divine dispositions and does not have the vice of obstinacy and is prepared to benefit others with those gifts, when the highest dignity of governing souls is imposed on him, he must flee from it with his heart, but against his will, he must obey" ("Pastoral Rule," I, 6).

These words are as a dialogue with himself. With prophetic vision, Gregory intuited that a new civilization was dawning with the meeting between the Roman heritage and the peoples called "barbarians," thanks to the force of cohesion and the moral loftiness of Christianity. Monasticism was becoming a richness not only for the Church, but for the whole of society.

Of frail health but strong moral stature, St. Gregory the Great carried out intense pastoral and civil action. He left a very large collection of letters, admirable homilies, a famous commentary on the Book of Job and writings on the life of St. Benedict, as well as numerous liturgical texts, famous for the reform of chant, which, due to his name, was called "Gregorian."

However, his most famous work, without a doubt, is the "Pastoral Rule," which had the same importance for the clergy as St. Benedict's Rule for the monks of the Middle Ages. The life of the pastor of souls must be a balanced synthesis between contemplation and action, animated by love "which reaches the loftiest heights when it bends down with mercy to the profound ills of others. The ability to bend down to the misery of others is the measure of the force of one's self-giving to others" (II,5). In this teaching, always timely, the Fathers of the Second Vatican Council were inspired to describe the image of the pastor of our times.

Let us pray to the Virgin Mary that the example and teaching of St. Gregory the Great may be followed by the pastors of the Church and also by leaders of civil institutions.

[Translation by ZENIT]

[After praying the Angelus, the Holy Father greeted pilgrims in several languages. In English, he said:]

I offer a warm welcome to all the English-speaking visitors gathered for this Angelus prayer, including the pilgrims from the Diocese of London in Canada, accompanied by their bishop. In today's Gospel, Jesus invites us to purity of heart and sincere obedience to God's law. May your visit to Rome strengthen you in love of the Lord and in joyful fidelity to his holy will. God bless you all!

© Copyright 2006 -- Libreria Editrice Vaticana

Pope Saint Gregory the Great

CE entry

The Life of Saint Gregory the Great

Pastoral Rule
The Dialogues
partial English translation of his commentary on Job
The Mystery of the Resurrection
Epistles

Bishop Crepaldi on "Deus Caritas Est"

Bishop Crepaldi on "Deus Caritas Est"

Social Doctrine Lies at Heart of Encyclical

ROME, SEPT. 2, 2006 (Zenit.org).- Bishop Giampaolo Crepaldi, secretary of the Pontifical Council for Justice and Peace, says that Benedict XVI's first encyclical reflects the entire social teaching of the Church. We publish an adapted translation of his commentary which first appeared in the May 13 issue of L'Osservatore Romano.

* * *

Charity cleanses justice

The Social Doctrine of the Church lies at the very heart of the "Deus caritas est" encyclical by Pope Benedict XVI -- notably in paragraphs 26 through 29 -- and its historical evolution from "Rerum novarum" to "Centesimus annus" is specifically mentioned in paragraph 27.

The same paragraph, in addition, refers to the Compendium of the Social Doctrine of the Church, published in 2004 by the Pontifical Council for Justice and Peace, as a "comprehensive presentation" of the entire social teaching of the Church.

We can therefore say that the encyclical does not just embrace a few aspects of the Social Doctrine but the entire modern social teaching of the Church.

That is exactly the reason why it is useful to examine in greater depth the relationship between the Social Doctrine of the Church and the whole message of the encyclical written by Benedict XVI.

I wish to recall that also the first three encyclicals by John Paul II included important elements of Social Doctrine in the reflections on Christ the Redeemer of mankind, on God the Father rich in mercy and on the vivifying Spirit.

Central position

In that way, the Social Doctrine, following the program outlined in "Gaudium et spes," came to occupy a central, not a marginal, position in the announcement of the Christian message. In the same way, now, Social Doctrine is assigned a central place in the Christian announcement that "God is love" and not a marginal role.

Social Doctrine is thus organically linked to charity that, as theologal virtue, is the divine life itself that nourishes the Church at the service of the world, and as human virtue is that social friendship without which the community links between men weaken and waver.

The encyclical announces charity as the essence itself of God and therefore does not overlook the human and social aspects of love, which by that light are enlightened and purified. The Social Doctrine of the Church is positioned inside this dialogue between the Divine and the human, which must constantly appeal to the love of divine life and at the same time lovingly look upon the needs of humanity.

The relationship between the Social Doctrine of the Church and charity is thus very intimate. She is "aimed at serving the individual person who is acknowledged and loved in the fullness of his or her vocation" ("Centesimus annus" 59) and "her sole purpose has been care and responsibility for man, who has been entrusted to her by Christ himself" (ibid. 53).

Furthermore, the original bond between the Social Doctrine of the Church and God's love -- or with God who is love -- resides in the crucial and essential fact that she "proclaims the truth about Christ, about herself and about man" ("Sollicitiduo rei socialis" 41) and the truth of this announcement is that God is love.

It is not by chance that the Compendium of the Social Doctrine of the Church starts precisely from "God's plan of love for humanity."

Queen of virtues

It is extremely relevant, in this sense, that the first social teaching document of the modern era, "Rerum novarum," ends with an hymn to charity, "queen of all virtues" (45): "For, the happy results we all long for must be chiefly brought about by the plenteous outpouring of charity; of that true Christian charity which is the fulfilling of the whole Gospel law, which is always ready to sacrifice itself for others' sake, and is man's surest antidote against worldly pride and immoderate love of self."

The whole Social Doctrine of the Church may and should be seen as the expression of Christian love, as it was well expressed by "Mater et magistra" according to which the light of Social Doctrine is Truth, Justice its objective, and Love its driving force (226).

The essential relationship between the Social Doctrine of the Church and charity can also be considered from a different point of view. I am referring to its belonging to the formal disciplinary field of "moral theology," as explained by "Sollicitudo rei socialis" in paragraph 41.

Well, then, what is at the center of Christian morality if not charity?

Thus, if the Social Doctrine of the Church belongs to the discipline of moral theology, it means that it is because it refers to an action that is animated by charity. Therefore the theology of charity should not be seen as separated from the Social Doctrine of the Church.

The latter is "theology" and, therefore, it relates to all the areas of this knowledge, including the theology of charity. And then it is "moral theology" and, in this more specific context, it inevitably forms part of a theology of charity, from which is distinguished but not separated.

The encyclical by Benedict XVI "Deus caritas est" invites us to explore the close ties between the theology of charity and the Social Doctrine of the Church.

Charity permeates Christian life and it is not an addition to human life that comes into play a posteriori. Also creation, says "Deus caritas est," is love. In the same way, charity does not supplement justice, but it animates it by "cleansing it," that is helping it to be its own self, to be adequately perceived and pursued.

There is no separation between the two levels, nor can we speak of any succession or contiguity between them. Love is not juxtaposed to justice, but it makes it breathe better and, by doing so, it fully allows justice to be itself without incurring the risk of replacing it.

Justice and politics

The sphere of justice, says the Pope, belongs to politics, but politics need the "cleansing" of charity. And it is in politics' best interest to acknowledge, in accordance to the principle of subsidiarity, the existence of "living forces" within society, among which is the Church, that are capable of activating spiritual energies that can cleanse social ethics, the commitment for justice and the political pursuit of common good.

In a truly secular relationship, this is precisely what politics ask from the Church and the Church, in turn, does not become reduced to a mere ethical agency because Christian charity is not limited to practical reason.

"Deus caritas est," thus, does not make a distinction between a sphere of charity, in which a "theology of charity" would be interested, and a sphere of politics in which the Social Doctrine of the Church would be interested.

It does, certainly, distinguish between charity that is practiced directly and autonomously by the Church and the mission of the lay faithful, who, in the light of the Social Doctrine of the Church, have the responsibility of building the city of men.

Nevertheless, the Social Doctrine of the Church itself is charity, it does not deal just with the structural mechanisms but it focuses on man, it does not only inspire social projects, but also ways of "bearing witness to Christ the Savior" ("Centesimus annus" 5), that is of incarnated love.

Politics, after all, as Paul VI said, are not just about the functioning of the structures, but are "a demanding manner of living the Christian commitment to the service of others" ("Octogesima adveniens" 46), therefore they are charity.

Charity animates, in different ways, both the direct ecclesial works of charity and the actions taken in the world in the light of the Social Doctrine of the Church.