Monday, November 30, 2009

On Christ, the Foundation of Hope

On Christ, the Foundation of Hope

"He Is 'Flesh' Like Us, and Is 'Rock' Like God"

VATICAN CITY, NOV. 29, 2009 (Zenit.org).- Here is a translation of Benedict XVI's address before praying the Angelus at midday with pilgrims gathered in St. Peter's Square.

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Dear Brothers and Sisters!

This Sunday we begin, by the grace of God, a new liturgical year, which opens naturally with Advent, a time of preparation for the Lord's nativity. In the constitution on the Liturgy, the Second Vatican Council states that the Church "presents in the annual cycle the whole mystery of Christ, from the incarnation and the nativity, to the ascension, the day of pentecost, and the expectation of the blessed hope and return of the Lord."

In this way, "recalling the mysteries of the redemption, it opens to the faithful the riches of the salvific actions and the merits of their Lord, so that they are present in some way in all times, so that the faithful can approach them and be filled with the grace of salvation" ("Sacrosantum Concilium," 102).

The council insists on the fact that Christ is the center of the liturgy. It is similar to the sun, around which rotate the planets. Around the liturgy rotate the Blessed Virgin Mary -- she is the closest -- and the martyrs and the other saints that "in heaven sing to God the perfect praise and intercede for us" (Ibidem, 104).

This is the reality of the liturgical year seen, so to speak, "from God's side." And from the side -- shall we say -- of man, of history and of society? What importance can it have? The answer is suggested properly by the advent journey, which we undertake today.

The contemporary world needs above all hope: It is needed by developing peoples, but also by those economically developed. We increasingly see that we are in the same boat and that we must all be saved together. Above all, seeing so many false securities crumble, we realize that we need a trustworthy hope, and this is found only in Christ, who, as the Letter to the Hebrews says, "is the same yesterday, today and always" (13:8).

The Lord Jesus came in the past, he comes in the present and will come in the future. He embraces all the dimensions of time, because he died and rose, he is "the Living One" and, sharing our human precariousness, remains forever and offers us God's very stability. He is "flesh" like us, and is "rock" like God.

Whoever desires liberty, justice and peace may now lift himself up, and raise his head, because in Christ liberation is close (cf. Luke 21:28) -- as we read in today's Gospel. Hence, we can affirm that Jesus Christ does not only look at Christians, or only at believers, but at all men, because he, who is the center of faith, is also the foundation of hope. He is the hope that every human being constantly needs.

Dear brothers and sisters, the Virgin Mary fully incarnates the humanity that lives in hope based on faith in the living God. She is the Virgin of Advent; she is well-rooted in the present, in the "today" of salvation; she keeps in her heart all the past promises; and they extend to future fulfillment. Let us enter her school, to truly enter this time of grace and to welcome, with joy and responsibility, the coming of God to our personal and social history.

[After the Angelus, the Holy Father said:]

This coming Dec. 1 the World AIDS Day will be observed. My thought and my prayer go to all persons affected by this sickness, in particular children, to the poorest and to those who are rejected. The Church does not cease to combat AIDS, through her institutions and the personnel dedicated to it. I exhort everyone to make their own contribution with prayer and care, so that those who are affected by the HIV virus will feel the presence of the Lord who gives support and hope. Finally, I hope that, by multiplying and coordinating efforts, this sickness will be halted and eradicated.

[Translation by ZENIT]

[The Pope greeted the pilgrims in various languages. In English, he said:]

I welcome all the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors present for the Angelus. On this First Sunday of Advent let us join with Mary in prayerful trust, watchful for the presence of Jesus in our world, mindful of our need to grow in compassion and mercy, and ready to embrace God's will as a sign of hope. Upon you and your families I invoke God's abundant blessings of joy and peace.

© Copyright 2009 -- Libreria Editrice Vaticana

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Hugh and Richard, of the Abbey of St. Victor

Hugh and Richard, of the Abbey of St. Victor

"Love Alone Makes Us Happy"

VATICAN CITY, NOV. 25, 2009 (Zenit.org).- Here is a translation of the address Benedict XVI gave during today's general audience in Paul VI Hall.

* * *

Dear brothers and sisters,

During these Wednesday audiences, I have been presenting some exemplary figures of believers who have been determined to show the harmony between reason and faith, and to witness with their life the proclamation of the Gospel.

Today I would like to speak to you about Hugh and Richard of St. Victor. Both are among those notable philosophers and theologians known by the name of Victorines, because they lived in the Abbey of St. Victor in Paris, founded at the beginning of the 12th century by William of Champeaux. William himself was a renowned teacher, who was able to give his abbey a solid cultural identity. In fact, inaugurated in St. Victor was a school for the formation of monks, open also to outside students, where a happy synthesis was made between the two forms of doing theology, of which I have already spoken in previous catecheses: namely, monastic theology, mainly oriented to the contemplation of the mysteries of the faith in Scripture, and scholastic theology, which used reason to attempt to scrutinize these mysteries with innovative methods, to create a theological system.

We know little about the life of Hugh of St. Victor. The date and place of his birth are uncertain: perhaps in Saxony or in Flanders. It is known that he arrived in Paris -- the European capital of culture at the time -- and spent the rest of his years in the abbey of St. Victor, where he was first a disciple and then a teacher. Already before his death, which occurred in 1141, he achieved great notoriety and esteem, to the point of being called a "second St. Augustine": Like Augustine, in fact, he meditated much on the relation between faith and reason, between profane sciences and theology.

According to Hugh of St. Victor, all sciences, in addition to being useful to understand the Scriptures, have value in themselves and should be cultivated to enhance man's learning, and also to correspond to his desire to know the truth. This healthy intellectual curiosity induced him to recommend to students that they never stifle the desire to learn and -- in his treatise on the methodology of learning and pedagogy, titled significantly Didascalicon (on teaching) -- he recommended: "Learn happily from everyone what you do not know. He will be the wisest of all who has desired to learn something from all. He who receives something from everyone, ends us by being the richest of all" (Eruditiones Didascalicae, 3,14: PL 176,774).

The science that concerns the philosophers and theologians of the Victorines is, in a particular way, theology, which requires first of all the loving study of sacred Scripture. To know God, in fact, one cannot but begin from what God himself has wished to reveal of himself through the Scriptures. In this connection, Hugh of St. Victor is a typical representative of monastic theology, totally based on biblical exegesis. To interpret Scripture, he proposes the traditional Patristic-Medieval articulation, that is, the historical/literal sense, first of all, then the allegorical and analogical, and finally the moral. These are four dimensions of the meaning of Scripture that also today are being rediscovered, because it is seen that in the text and the narration is hidden a more profound indication: the thread of faith, which leads us on high and guides us on this earth, teaching us how to live. However, while respecting these four dimensions of the meaning of Scripture, in an original way in relation to his contemporaries, he insists -- and this is something new -- on the importance of the historical/literal meaning. In other words, before discovering the symbolic value, the more profound dimensions of the biblical text, it is necessary to know and reflect further on the meaning of the history narrated in Scripture. Otherwise, he warns with an effective example, the risk is run of being like grammar scholars who ignore the alphabet. For those who know the meaning of the history described in the Bible, the human circumstances seem marked by Divine Providence, according to a well-ordered plan. Thus, for Hugh of St. Victor, history is not the result of a blind destiny or an absurd case, as it might seem. On the contrary, the Holy Spirit operates in human history, arousing a wonderful dialogue of men with God, their friend. This theological view of history makes evident the surprising and salvific intervention of God, who really enters and acts in history, almost makes himself part of our history, but always safeguarding and respecting man's liberty and responsibility.

For our author, the study of sacred Scripture and its historical/literal meaning makes possible true and authentic theology, that is, the systematic illustration of truths, to know their structure, the illustration of the dogmas of the faith, which he represents in a solid synthesis in the treatise De sacramentis christianae fidei (The sacraments of the Christian faith). There is found, among other things, a definition of "sacrament" that, subsequently perfected by other theologians, has features that even today are very interesting. "The sacrament," he writes, "is a corporeal or material element proposed in a strange and sensible way, which represents with its similarity an invisible and spiritual grace, it signifies it, because it was instituted for this purpose, and contains it, because it is capable of sanctifying" (9,2: PL 176,317). On one hand the visibility of the symbol, the "corporeal nature" of the gift of God, in which however, on the other hand, is hidden divine grace that comes from a history: Jesus Christ himself has created the fundamental symbols. Hence, three are the elements that concur in the definition of a sacrament, according to Hugh of St. Victor, the institution on the part of Christ, the communication of grace, and the analogy between the visible, material element and the invisible element, which are the divine gifts. It is a vision that is very close to contemporary sensibility, because the sacraments are presented with a language interlaced with symbols and images capable of speaking immediately to men's heart. Also important today is that the liturgical leaders, and in particular priests, appreciate with pastoral wisdom the signs themselves of the sacramental rites -- this visibility and tangibility of grace -- paying careful attention to their catechesis, so that each celebration of the sacraments is lived by all the faithful with devotion, intensity and spiritual joy.

A worthy disciple of Hugh of St. Victor is Richard, from Scotland. He was prior of the Abbey of St. Victor between 1162 and 1173, the year of his death. Richard also, naturally, assigns an essential role to the study of the Bible but, as opposed to his teacher, he favors the allegorical sense, the symbolic meaning of Scripture with which, for example, he interprets the Old Testament figure of Benjamin, son of Jacob, as symbol of contemplation and summit of the spiritual life. Richard treats this argument in two texts. Benjamin minor and Benjamin major, in which he proposes to the faithful a spiritual way, which first invites the exercise of the different virtues, learning to discipline and order with reason the feelings and interior affective and emotional movements. Only when man has achieved a balance and human maturity in this field is he prepared to accede to contemplation, which Richard describes as "a profound and pure look of the soul directed to the wonders of wisdom, associated to an ecstatic sense of wonder and admiration" (Benjamin Maior 1,4: PL 196,67).

Contemplation is, therefore, the point of arrival, the result of an arduous journey, which entails dialogue between faith and reason, that is -- once again -- a theological discourse. Theology begins from the truths that are the object of faith, but it attempts to deepen its knowledge with the use of reason, appropriating the gift of faith. This application of reasoning to the understanding of faith is practiced in a convincing way in Richard's masterpiece, one of the great books of history, the De Trinitate (The Trinity). In the six books that make it up he reflects with acuity on the mystery of God one and triune.

According to our author, given that God is love, the only divine substance entails communication, oblation and affection between two Persons, the Father and the Son, who meet one another with an eternal exchange of love. But the perfection of happiness and of goodness does not allow for exclusiveness and narrow-mindedness; on the contrary, it calls for the eternal presence of a third Person, the Holy Spirit. Trinitarian love is participatory, harmonious and entails a superabundance of delight, enjoyment of incessant joy. That is, Richard assumes that God is love, analyzes the essence of love, which is what is involved in the reality of love, thus coming to the Trinity of Persons, which is really the logical expression of the fact that God is love.

Richard, nevertheless, is aware that love, though it reveals God's essence to us and makes us "understand" the mystery of the Trinity, is, however, only an analogy to speak about a mystery that exceeds the human mind, and -- poet and mystic that he is -- he takes recourse also to other images. For example he compares divinity to a river, to a loving wave that springs from the Father, flows back in the Son, later to be happily diffused in the Holy Spirit.

Dear friends, authors such as Hugh and Richard of St. Victor raise our soul to the contemplation of divine realities. At the same time, the immense joy we get from thought, admiration and praise of the Most Holy Trinity, establishes and sustains the concrete commitment to inspire us in that perfect model of communion and love to build our everyday human relations.

The Trinity is truly perfect communion! How the world would change if in families, in parishes and in all other communities relationships were lived following always the example of the three Divine Persons, where each one lives not only with the other, but for the other and in the other! I recalled it some months ago in the Angelus: "Love alone makes us happy, because we live in relation, and we live to love and to be loved" (L'Osservatore Romano, June 8-9, 2009, p. 1). It is love that realizes this incessant miracle: as in the life of the Most Holy Trinity, plurality is repaired in unity, where everything is pleasure and joy. With St. Augustine, held in great honor by the Victorines, we can also exclaim: "Vides Trinitatem, si caritatem vides" -- you see the Trinity, if you see charity (De Trinitate VIII, 8,12).

[Translation by ZENIT]

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

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

In our continuing catechesis on the Christian culture of the Middle Ages, we now turn to two outstanding twelfth-century theologians associated with the monastery of Saint Victor of Paris. Hugh of Saint Victor stressed the importance of the literal or historical sense of sacred Scripture as the basis of theology's effort to unite faith and reason in understanding God's saving plan. His treatise On the Sacraments of the Christian Faith offered an influential definition of a sacrament, stressing not only its institution by Christ and its communication of grace, but also its value as an outward sign. Richard of Saint Victor, a disciple of Hugh, stressed the allegorical sense of the Scriptures in order to present a spiritual paedagogy aimed at human maturity and contemplative wisdom. Richard's work On the Trinity sought to understand the mystery of the triune God by analyzing the mystery of love, which entails a giving and receiving between two persons and finds its perfection in being bestowed upon a third person. These great Victorines, Hugh and Richard, remind us that theology is grounded in the contemplation born of faith and the pursuit of understanding, and brings with it the immense joy of experiencing the eternal love of the Blessed Trinity.

I offer a warm welcome to the pilgrimage of Bishops and faithful from Japan celebrating the first anniversary of the Beatification of Blessed Peter Kibe and Companions. My cordial greeting also goes to the groups from Denmark and the United States of America. Upon all the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors present at today's Audience, I invoke God's blessings of joy and peace!

©Copyright 2009 - Libreria Editrice Vaticana

[At the conclusion of the audience, the Pontiff gave his customary greeting in Italian:]

I turn, finally, to young people, the sick and newlyweds. Next Sunday, the season of Advent begins. I exhort you, young people, to live this "intense time" with vigilant prayer and generous evangelical commitment. I encourage you, sick people, to sustain with the offer of your sufferings the Christian peoples' path of preparation for Holy Christmas. I hope you, newlyweds, will be witnesses of the Spirit of love that animates and sustains the whole Family of God.

[Translation by ZENIT]

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Benedict XVI's Address to Artists

Benedict XVI's Address to Artists

"You Are the Custodians of Beauty"




VATICAN CITY, NOV. 22, 2009 (Zenit.org).- Here is an English translation of the address Benedict XVI gave Saturday in the Sistine Chapel during an audience with some 250 artists of international renown.

* * *

Dear Cardinals,
Brother Bishops and Priests,
Distinguished Artists,
Ladies and Gentlemen,

With great joy I welcome you to this solemn place, so rich in art and in history. I cordially greet each and every one of you and I thank you for accepting my invitation. At this gathering I wish to express and renew the Church's friendship with the world of art, a friendship that has been strengthened over time; indeed Christianity from its earliest days has recognized the value of the arts and has made wise use of their varied language to express her unvarying message of salvation. This friendship must be continually promoted and supported so that it may be authentic and fruitful, adapted to different historical periods and attentive to social and cultural variations. Indeed, this is the reason for our meeting here today. I am deeply grateful to Archbishop Gianfranco Ravasi, President of the Pontifical Council for Culture and of the Pontifical Commission for the Cultural Patrimony of the Church, and likewise to his officials, for promoting and organizing this meeting, and I thank him for the words he has just addressed to me. I greet the Cardinals, the Bishops, the priests and the various distinguished personalities present. I also thank the Sistine Chapel Choir for their contribution to this gathering. Today's event is focused on you, dear and illustrious artists, from different countries, cultures and religions, some of you perhaps remote from the practice of religion, but interested nevertheless in maintaining communication with the Catholic Church, in not reducing the horizons of existence to mere material realities, to a reductive and trivializing vision. You represent the varied world of the arts and so, through you, I would like to convey to all artists my invitation to friendship, dialogue and cooperation.

Some significant anniversaries occur around this time. It is ten years since the Letter to Artists by my venerable Predecessor, the Servant of God Pope John Paul II. For the first time, on the eve of the Great Jubilee of the Year 2000, the Pope, who was an artist himself, wrote a Letter to artists, combining the solemnity of a pontifical document with the friendly tone of a conversation among all who, as we read in the initial salutation, "are passionately dedicated to the search for new 'epiphanies' of beauty". Twenty-five years ago the same Pope proclaimed Blessed Fra Angelico the patron of artists, presenting him as a model of perfect harmony between faith and art. I also recall how on 7 May 1964, forty-five years ago, in this very place, an historic event took place, at the express wish of Pope Paul VI, to confirm the friendship between the Church and the arts. The words that he spoke on that occasion resound once more today under the vault of the Sistine Chapel and touch our hearts and our minds. "We need you," he said. "We need your collaboration in order to carry out our ministry, which consists, as you know, in preaching and rendering accessible and comprehensible to the minds and hearts of our people the things of the spirit, the invisible, the ineffable, the things of God himself. And in this activity ... you are masters. It is your task, your mission, and your art consists in grasping treasures from the heavenly realm of the spirit and clothing them in words, colours, forms -- making them accessible." So great was Paul VI's esteem for artists that he was moved to use daring expressions. "And if we were deprived of your assistance," he added, "our ministry would become faltering and uncertain, and a special effort would be needed, one might say, to make it artistic, even prophetic. In order to scale the heights of lyrical expression of intuitive beauty, priesthood would have to coincide with art." On that occasion Paul VI made a commitment to "re-establish the friendship between the Church and artists", and he invited artists to make a similar, shared commitment, analyzing seriously and objectively the factors that disturbed this relationship, and assuming individual responsibility, courageously and passionately, for a newer and deeper journey in mutual acquaintance and dialogue in order to arrive at an authentic "renaissance" of art in the context of a new humanism.

That historic encounter, as I mentioned, took place here in this sanctuary of faith and human creativity. So it is not by chance that we come together in this place, esteemed for its architecture and its symbolism, and above all for the frescoes that make it unique, from the masterpieces of Perugino and Botticelli, Ghirlandaio and Cosimo Rosselli, Luca Signorelli and others, to the Genesis scenes and the Last Judgement of Michelangelo Buonarroti, who has given us here one of the most extraordinary creations in the entire history of art. The universal language of music has often been heard here, thanks to the genius of great musicians who have placed their art at the service of the liturgy, assisting the spirit in its ascent towards God. At the same time, the Sistine Chapel is remarkably vibrant with history, since it is the solemn and austere setting of events that mark the history of the Church and of mankind. Here as you know, the College of Cardinals elects the Pope; here it was that I myself, with trepidation but also with absolute trust in the Lord, experienced the privileged moment of my election as Successor of the Apostle Peter.

Dear friends, let us allow these frescoes to speak to us today, drawing us towards the ultimate goal of human history. The Last Judgement, which you see behind me, reminds us that human history is movement and ascent, a continuing tension towards fullness, towards human happiness, towards a horizon that always transcends the present moment even as the two coincide. Yet the dramatic scene portrayed in this fresco also places before our eyes the risk of man's definitive fall, a risk that threatens to engulf him whenever he allows himself to be led astray by the forces of evil. So the fresco issues a strong prophetic cry against evil, against every form of injustice. For believers, though, the Risen Christ is the Way, the Truth and the Life. For his faithful followers, he is the Door through which we are brought to that "face-to-face" vision of God from which limitless, full and definitive happiness flows. Thus Michelangelo presents to our gaze the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End of history, and he invites us to walk the path of life with joy, courage and hope. The dramatic beauty of Michelangelo's painting, its colours and forms, becomes a proclamation of hope, an invitation to raise our gaze to the ultimate horizon. The profound bond between beauty and hope was the essential content of the evocative Message that Paul VI addressed to artists at the conclusion of the Second Vatican Ecumenical Council on 8 December 1965: "To all of you," he proclaimed solemnly, "the Church of the Council declares through our lips: if you are friends of true art, you are our friends!" And he added: "This world in which we live needs beauty in order not to sink into despair. Beauty, like truth, brings joy to the human heart, and is that precious fruit which resists the erosion of time, which unites generations and enables them to be one in admiration. And all this through the work of your hands . . . Remember that you are the custodians of beauty in the world."

Unfortunately, the present time is marked, not only by negative elements in the social and economic sphere, but also by a weakening of hope, by a certain lack of confidence in human relationships, which gives rise to increasing signs of resignation, aggression and despair. The world in which we live runs the risk of being altered beyond recognition because of unwise human actions which, instead of cultivating its beauty, unscrupulously exploit its resources for the advantage of a few and not infrequently disfigure the marvels of nature. What is capable of restoring enthusiasm and confidence, what can encourage the human spirit to rediscover its path, to raise its eyes to the horizon, to dream of a life worthy of its vocation -- if not beauty? Dear friends, as artists you know well that the experience of beauty, beauty that is authentic, not merely transient or artificial, is by no means a supplementary or secondary factor in our search for meaning and happiness; the experience of beauty does not remove us from reality, on the contrary, it leads to a direct encounter with the daily reality of our lives, liberating it from darkness, transfiguring it, making it radiant and beautiful.

Indeed, an essential function of genuine beauty, as emphasized by Plato, is that it gives man a healthy "shock", it draws him out of himself, wrenches him away from resignation and from being content with the humdrum -- it even makes him suffer, piercing him like a dart, but in so doing it "reawakens" him, opening afresh the eyes of his heart and mind, giving him wings, carrying him aloft. Dostoevsky's words that I am about to quote are bold and paradoxical, but they invite reflection. He says this: "Man can live without science, he can live without bread, but without beauty he could no longer live, because there would no longer be anything to do to the world. The whole secret is here, the whole of history is here." The painter Georges Braque echoes this sentiment: "Art is meant to disturb, science reassures." Beauty pulls us up short, but in so doing it reminds us of our final destiny, it sets us back on our path, fills us with new hope, gives us the courage to live to the full the unique gift of life. The quest for beauty that I am describing here is clearly not about escaping into the irrational or into mere aestheticism.

Too often, though, the beauty that is thrust upon us is illusory and deceitful, superficial and blinding, leaving the onlooker dazed; instead of bringing him out of himself and opening him up to horizons of true freedom as it draws him aloft, it imprisons him within himself and further enslaves him, depriving him of hope and joy. It is a seductive but hypocritical beauty that rekindles desire, the will to power, to possess, and to dominate others, it is a beauty which soon turns into its opposite, taking on the guise of indecency, transgression or gratuitous provocation. Authentic beauty, however, unlocks the yearning of the human heart, the profound desire to know, to love, to go towards the Other, to reach for the Beyond. If we acknowledge that beauty touches us intimately, that it wounds us, that it opens our eyes, then we rediscover the joy of seeing, of being able to grasp the profound meaning of our existence, the Mystery of which we are part; from this Mystery we can draw fullness, happiness, the passion to engage with it every day. In this regard, Pope John Paul II, in his Letter to Artists, quotes the following verse from a Polish poet, Cyprian Norwid: "Beauty is to enthuse us for work, and work is to raise us up" (no. 3). And later he adds: "In so far as it seeks the beautiful, fruit of an imagination which rises above the everyday, art is by its nature a kind of appeal to the mystery. Even when they explore the darkest depths of the soul or the most unsettling aspects of evil, the artist gives voice in a way to the universal desire for redemption" (no. 10). And in conclusion he states: "Beauty is a key to the mystery and a call to transcendence" (no. 16).

These ideas impel us to take a further step in our reflection. Beauty, whether that of the natural universe or that expressed in art, precisely because it opens up and broadens the horizons of human awareness, pointing us beyond ourselves, bringing us face to face with the abyss of Infinity, can become a path towards the transcendent, towards the ultimate Mystery, towards God. Art, in all its forms, at the point where it encounters the great questions of our existence, the fundamental themes that give life its meaning, can take on a religious quality, thereby turning into a path of profound inner reflection and spirituality. This close proximity, this harmony between the journey of faith and the artist's path is attested by countless artworks that are based upon the personalities, the stories, the symbols of that immense deposit of "figures" -- in the broad sense -- namely the Bible, the Sacred Scriptures. The great biblical narratives, themes, images and parables have inspired innumerable masterpieces in every sector of the arts, just as they have spoken to the hearts of believers in every generation through the works of craftsmanship and folk art, that are no less eloquent and evocative.

In this regard, one may speak of a via pulchritudinis, a path of beauty which is at the same time an artistic and aesthetic journey, a journey of faith, of theological enquiry. The theologian Hans Urs von Balthasar begins his great work entitled The Glory of the Lord -- a Theological Aesthetics with these telling observations: "Beauty is the word with which we shall begin. Beauty is the last word that the thinking intellect dares to speak, because it simply forms a halo, an untouchable crown around the double constellation of the true and the good and their inseparable relation to one another." He then adds: "Beauty is the disinterested one, without which the ancient world refused to understand itself, a word which both imperceptibly and yet unmistakably has bid farewell to our new world, a world of interests, leaving it to its own avarice and sadness. It is no longer loved or fostered even by religion." And he concludes: "We can be sure that whoever sneers at her name as if she were the ornament of a bourgeois past -- whether he admits it or not -- can no longer pray and soon will no longer be able to love." The way of beauty leads us, then, to grasp the Whole in the fragment, the Infinite in the finite, God in the history of humanity. Simone Weil wrote in this regard: "In all that awakens within us the pure and authentic sentiment of beauty, there, truly, is the presence of God. There is a kind of incarnation of God in the world, of which beauty is the sign. Beauty is the experimental proof that incarnation is possible. For this reason all art of the first order is, by its nature, religious." Hermann Hesse makes the point even more graphically: "Art means: revealing God in everything that exists." Echoing the words of Pope Paul VI, the Servant of God Pope John Paul II restated the Church's desire to renew dialogue and cooperation with artists: "In order to communicate the message entrusted to her by Christ, the Church needs art" (no. 12); but he immediately went on to ask: "Does art need the Church?" -- thereby inviting artists to rediscover a source of fresh and well-founded inspiration in religious experience, in Christian revelation and in the "great codex" that is the Bible.

Dear artists, as I draw to a conclusion, I too would like to make a cordial, friendly and impassioned appeal to you, as did my Predecessor. You are the custodians of beauty: thanks to your talent, you have the opportunity to speak to the heart of humanity, to touch individual and collective sensibilities, to call forth dreams and hopes, to broaden the horizons of knowledge and of human engagement. Be grateful, then, for the gifts you have received and be fully conscious of your great responsibility to communicate beauty, to communicate in and through beauty! Through your art, you yourselves are to be heralds and witnesses of hope for humanity! And do not be afraid to approach the first and last source of beauty, to enter into dialogue with believers, with those who, like yourselves, consider that they are pilgrims in this world and in history towards infinite Beauty! Faith takes nothing away from your genius or your art: on the contrary, it exalts them and nourishes them, it encourages them to cross the threshold and to contemplate with fascination and emotion the ultimate and definitive goal, the sun that does not set, the sun that illumines this present moment and makes it beautiful.

Saint Augustine, who fell in love with beauty and sang its praises, wrote these words as he reflected on man's ultimate destiny, commenting almost ante litteram on the Judgement scene before your eyes today: "Therefore we are to see a certain vision, my brethren, that no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man conceived: a vision surpassing all earthly beauty, whether it be that of gold and silver, woods and fields, sea and sky, sun and moon, or stars and angels. The reason is this: it is the source of all other beauty" (In 1 Ioannis, 4:5). My wish for all of you, dear artists, is that you may carry this vision in your eyes, in your hands, and in your heart, that it may bring you joy and continue to inspire your fine works. From my heart I bless you and, like Paul VI, I greet you with a single word: arrivederci!

[The Pope greeted the artists in various languages. In English, he said:]

Dear friends, thank you for your presence here today. Let the beauty that you express by your God-given talents always direct the hearts of others to glorify the Creator, the source of all that is good. God's blessings upon you all!

© Copyright 2009 -- Libreria Editrice Vaticana

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Food Futures: Strategies for resilient food and farming (pdf)

On Europe's Cathedrals

On Europe's Cathedrals


"Beauty Is a Privileged ... Way to Approach the Mystery of God"




VATICAN CITY, NOV. 18, 2009 (Zenit.org).- Here is a translation of Benedict XVI's address today during the general audience, which was held in Paul VI Hall.

* * *

Dear brothers and sisters,

In the catecheses of recent weeks I have presented some aspects of Medieval theology. However Christian faith, profoundly rooted in the men and women of those centuries, did not only give origin to masterpieces of theological literature, of thought and of faith. It also inspired one of the loftiest artistic creations of universal civilization: the cathedrals, true glory of the Christian Middle Ages. In fact, for almost three centuries, beginning in the 11th century, Europe witnessed an extraordinary artistic fervor. An ancient chronicler describes thus the enthusiasm and industry of that time: "It happened that the whole world, but especially in Italy and in Gaul, churches began to be reconstructed, although many, being in good conditions, had no need of this restoration. It was as though one village and another competed; it was as if the world, shaking off its old rags, wished to be clothed everywhere in the white garment of new churches. In sum, almost all the cathedral churches, a great number of monastic churches, and even village chapels, were then restored by the faithful" (Rodolfo el Glabro, Historiarum 3,4).

Several factors contributed to this rebirth of religious architecture. First of all, more favorable historical conditions, such as greater political security, accompanied by a constant increase in the population and the progressive development of cities, of exchanges and of wealth. Moreover, architects found increasingly elaborate technical solutions to increase the dimension of buildings, ensuring at the same time their firmness and majesty. However, it was thanks primarily to the spiritual ardor and zeal of monasticism then in full expansion that abbey churches were erected, where the liturgy could be celebrated with dignity and solemnity, and the faithful could remain in prayer, attracted by the veneration of the relics of the saints, object of countless pilgrimages. Thus the Romanesque churches and cathedrals were born, characterized by their longitudinal development along the naves to house numerous faithful; very solid churches, with thick walls, stone vaults and simple and essential lines.

A novelty is represented by the introduction of sculptures. As Romanesque churches were the place of monastic prayer and the faithful's worship, the sculptors, rather than being concerned with technical perfection, took care above all of the educational end. It was necessary to arouse in souls strong impressions, feelings that could incite them to flee from vice and evil and practice virtue, goodness -- the recurrent theme was the representation of Christ as Universal Judge, surrounded by the personages of revelation. In general it is Romanesque facades that offer this representation, to underline that Christ is the door that leads to heaven. The faithful, crossing the threshold of the sacred building, entered a time and space that were different from those of ordinary life. Beyond the main door of the church, believers in the sovereign, just and merciful Christ could -- the artists hoped -- anticipate eternal happiness in the celebration of the liturgy and in acts of piety carried out inside the sacred building.

In the 12th and 13th centuries, beginning in the north of France, another type of architecture spread in the construction of sacred buildings: the Gothic. This style had two new characteristics as compared to the Romanesque: the vertical thrust and luminosity. Gothic cathedrals showed a synthesis of faith and art expressed harmoniously through the universal and fascinating language of beauty, which still today awakens wonder. Thanks to the introduction of pointed vaults, which were supported by robust pillars, it was possible to notably raise the height [of these churches]. The thrust to the sublime was an invitation to prayer and at the same time was a prayer. The Gothic cathedral thus wished to translate in its architectural lines souls longing for God. Moreover, with the new technical solutions, the perimeter walls could be penetrated and embellished by colorful stained glass windows. In other words, the windows were transformed into great luminous figures, very adapted to instructing the people in the faith. In them -- scene by scene -- were narrated the life of a saint, a parable or other biblical events. From the painted windows a cascade of light was shed on the faithful to narrate to them the history of salvation and to involve them in this history.

Another merit of the Gothic cathedrals was the fact that, in their construction and decoration, the Christian and civil community participated in a different but coordinated way; the poor and the powerful, the illiterate and the learned participated, because in this common house all believers were instructed in the faith. Gothic sculpture made of cathedrals a "Bible of stone," representing the episodes of the Gospel and illustrating the contents of the Liturgical Year, from Christmas to the Lord's glorification. Spreading ever more in those centuries, moreover, was the perception of the Lord's humanity, and the sufferings of his Passion were represented in a realistic way: The suffering Christ (Christus patiens) became an image loved by all, and able to inspire piety and repentance for sins. Not lacking were the personages of the Old Testament, whose history became familiar to the faithful in such a way that they frequented the cathedrals as part of the one, common history of salvation. With their faces full of beauty, tenderness, intelligence, Gothic sculpture of the 13th century reveals a happy and serene piety, which is pleased to emanate a heartfelt and filial devotion to the Mother of God, seen at times as a young, smiling and maternal woman, and represented primarily as the sovereign of heaven and earth, powerful and merciful.

The faithful who filled the Gothic cathedrals wanted to find in them artistic expressions that recalled the saints, models of Christian life and intercessors before God. And there was no lack of "lay" manifestations of existence; hence there appeared here and there representations of work in the fields, in the sciences and in the arts. Everything was oriented and offered to God in the place where the liturgy was celebrated. We can understand better the meaning that was attributed to a Gothic cathedral, considering the text of an inscription on the main door of St. Denis in Paris: "Passer-by, you who want to praise the beauty of these doors, do not be dazzled either by the gold or the magnificence, but by the laborious work. Here shines a famous work, but may the heavens allow that this famous work which shines make spirits shine, so that with luminous truths they will walk toward the true light, where Christ is the true door."

Dear brothers and sisters, I now wish to underline two elements of Romanesque and Gothic art, which are also useful for us.

The first: the works of art born in Europe in past centuries are incomprehensible if one does not take into account the religious soul that inspired them. Marc Chagall, an artist who has always given testimony of the encounter between aesthetics and faith, wrote that "for centuries painters have dyed their brush in that colored alphabet that is the Bible." When faith, celebrated in a particular way in the liturgy, encounters art, a profound synchrony is created, because both can and want to praise God, making the Invisible visible. I would like to share this in the meeting with artists on Nov. 21, renewing that proposal of friendship between Christian spirituality and art, desired by my venerated predecessors, in particular by the Servants of God Paul VI and John Paul II.

The second element: the force of the Romanesque style and the splendor of the Gothic cathedrals remind us that the via pilchritudinis, the way of beauty, is a privileged and fascinating way to approach the Mystery of God. What is beauty, which writers, poets, musicians, and artists contemplate and translate into their language, if not the reflection of the splendor of the Eternal Word made flesh? St. Augustine states: "Ask the beauty of the earth, ask the beauty of the sea, ask the beauty of the ample and diffused air. Ask the beauty of heaven, ask the order of the stars, ask the sun, which with its splendor brightens the day; ask the moon, which with its clarity moderates the darkness of night. Ask the beasts that move in the water, that walk on the earth, that fly in the air: souls that hide, bodies that show themselves; the visible that lets itself be guided, the invisible that guides. Ask them! All will answer you: Look at us, we are beautiful! Their beauty makes them known. This mutable beauty, who has created it if not Immutable Beauty?" (Sermo CCXLI, 2: PL 38, 1134).

Dear brothers and sisters, may the Lord help us to rediscover the way of beauty as one of the ways, perhaps the most attractive and fascinating, to be able to find and love God.

[Translation by ZENIT]

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

My dear brothers and sisters,

I have been speaking in recent weeks about medieval theology, and would now like to turn my attention to how the Christian faith of the Middle Ages inspired some of the greatest works of art of all time: the cathedrals of Europe. Romanesque cathedrals are distinctive for their size and for introducing to churches beautiful sculpture, including the image of Christ as the Universal Judge and the Gate of Heaven. By entering through Him, as it were, the faithful enter a space and even a time different from everyday life, somewhere they can anticipate eternal life through their participation in the liturgy. Gradually, Gothic architecture replaced the Romanesque, adding height and luminosity to the previous style. The Gothic cathedral translates the aspirations of the soul into architectural lines, and is a synthesis between faith, art and beauty which still raises our hearts and minds to God today. When faith encounters art, in particular in the liturgy, a profound synthesis is created, making visible the Invisible, and the two great architectural styles of the Middle Ages demonstrate how beauty is a powerful means to draw us closer to the Mystery of God. May the Lord help us to rediscover that "way of beauty," surely one of the best ways to know and to love Almighty God.

I am pleased to greet all the English-speaking pilgrims present at today's audience, especially the board members of the World Union of Catholic Women's Organizations. Upon you all I cordially invoke God's abundant blessings!

©Copyright 2009 - Libreria Editrice Vaticana

[In Italian, he said]

Finally, I greet young people, the sick and newlyweds. In today's liturgy we celebrate the Dedication of the Basilica of St. Peter in the Vatican and of St. Paul on the Via Ostiense. This feast gives us the occasion to highlight the meaning and value of the Church. Dear young people, love the Church and cooperate with enthusiasm in her construction. Dear sick people, live the offering of your suffering as a precious contribution to the spiritual growth of the Christian community. And you, dear newlyweds, be in the world a living sign of the love of Christ.

The day after tomorrow near the United Nations the World Day of Prayer and of Action for Children will be held, on the occasion of the 20th anniversary of the adoption of the Convention on the Rights of the Child. My thoughts go out to all the children of the world, especially those who live in difficult conditions and suffer because of violence, abuses, illness, war and hunger.

I invite you to join yourselves to my prayer and, at the same time, I appeal to the international community so that efforts will be multiplied to offer an adequate answer to the tragic problems of childhood. Let not the generous commitment of all be lacking, so that the rights of children will be recognized and their dignity be increasingly respected.

[Translation by ZENIT]

Sunday, November 15, 2009

On the End Times and God's Kingdom

On the End Times and God's Kingdom


"Behold the Power of the Word of Christ"



VATICAN CITY, NOV. 15, 2009 (Zenit.org).- Here is a translation of the public address Benedict XVI gave today before praying the midday Angelus with the pilgrims gathered in St. Peter's Square.

* * *

Dear Brothers and Sisters!

We have reached the last two weeks of the liturgical year. We thank the Lord who has enabled us to carry out, yet again, this journey of faith -- old and always new -- in the great spiritual family of the Church! It is an inestimable gift, which allows us to live in history the mystery of Christ, receiving in the furrows of our personal and community existence the seed of the Word of God, seed of eternity that transforms this world from within and opens it to the Heavenly Kingdom. Accompanying us in the itinerary of Sunday biblical readings was St. Mark's Gospel, which today presents a part of Jesus' discourse on the end times. In this discourse, there is a phrase that is striking for its synthetic clarity: "Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away" (Mark 13:31). Let us reflect, for a moment, on this prophecy of Christ.

The expression "heaven and earth" is frequent in the Bible to indicate the whole universe, the entire cosmos. Jesus says that all this is destined to "pass." Not only the earth, but also heaven, understood, in fact, in the cosmic sense, not as a synonym of God. Sacred Scripture knows no ambiguity: The whole of creation is marked by finiteness, including the elements divinized by ancient mythologies: There is no confusion between creation and the Creator, but rather a clear difference. With such a clear distinction, Jesus affirms that his words "will not pass," that is, they come from the part of God and because of this are eternal.

However, pronounced in the concreteness of his earthly existence, they are prophetic words par excellence, as Jesus affirms in another place, addressing the celestial Father: "for I have given them the words which thou gave me, and they have received them and know in truth that I came from thee and they have believed that thou didst send me" (John 17:8). In a well-known parable, Christ compares himself to the sower and explains that the seed is the Word (cfr Mark 4:14): Those who hear it, receive it and bear fruit (cfr Mark 4:20) are part of the Kingdom of God, that is, they live under his lordship; they remain in the world , but are no longer of the world; therefore, in them is a seed of eternity, a principle of transformation that already now is manifested in a good life, animated by charity, and in the end will produce the resurrection of the flesh. Behold the power of the Word of Christ.

Dear friends, the Virgin Mary is the living sign of this truth. Her heart was "good earth" that received with full disposition the Word of God, so that all her existence, transformed according to the image of the Son, was introduced into eternity, soul and body, anticipating the eternal vocation of every human being. Now, in prayer, let us make our own her response to the Angel: "let it be to me according to your word" (Luke 1:38), so that, following Christ on the way of the Cross, we might also be able to come to the glory of the Resurrection.

[After the Angelus the Holy Father made the following remarks in Italian:]

I address first of all a cordial greeting to the participants of the plenary assembly of the Commission for the Media of the Council of European Bishops' Conferences, who carried out their work these days in the Vatican. Beloved, you had to address the Internet culture and communication in the Church. I thank you for your skilled contribution on this topic of great present importance.

In addition, I wish to remind you that the national celebration of Thanksgiving Day is taking place in Ivrea, in Piedmont. I willingly join spiritually all those who are grateful to the Lord for the fruits of the earth and of man's work, renewing the urgent invitation to respect the natural environment, a precious resource entrusted to our responsibility.

[Translation by ZENIT]

[The Pope greeted the pilgrims in various languages. In English, he said:]

I extend heartfelt greetings to the English-speaking visitors here today. During this month of November, we remember especially the Holy Souls in Purgatory. In recent days we prayed for those who lost their lives in war, and on this World Day of Remembrance for Road Traffic Victims, we pray for all who have been killed or injured in road accidents. As we commend their souls to the loving mercy of Almighty God, we also invoke his consolation upon their families and loved ones. For those of you who have travelled long distances to be here today, I pray that you may have a safe homeward journey. May God bless all of you, and your families and friends.

© Copyright 2009 -- Libreria Editrice Vaticana

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

On What Europe Owes to Cluny

On What Europe Owes to Cluny


"The Value of the Human Person and the Primary Good of Peace"


VATICAN CITY, NOV. 11, 2009 (Zenit.org).- Here is a translation of Benedict XVI's address today during the general audience held in Paul VI Hall.

* * *

Dear brothers and sisters,

This morning I wish to speak of a monastic movement that had great importance in the Medieval centuries, and to which I have already referred in previous catecheses. It is about the Order of Cluny, which, at the beginning of the 12th century, the time of its greatest expansion, had almost 1,200 monasteries: a really impressive figure!

In fact at Cluny, 1,100 years ago, in 910, a monastery was founded and placed under the guidance of Abbot Bernone, after the donation of William the Pious, Duke of Aquitaine. At that time Western monasticism, which flowered some centuries before with St. Benedict, was very impoverished for several reasons: the unstable political and social conditions due to the constant invasions and devastation of people not integrated in the European fabric, widespread poverty and above all the dependence of abbeys on local lords, who controlled everything that belonged to the territory of their competence. In such a context, Cluny represented the soul of a profound renewal of monastic life, to lead it back to its original inspiration.

Represented at Cluny was the observance of the Rule of St. Benedict with some adaptations already introduced by other reformers. Above all the intention was to guarantee the central role that the liturgy must have in Christian life. The monks of Cluny dedicated themselves with love and great care to the celebration of the Liturgy of the Hours, the singing of psalms, to processions both devotional and solemn and, above all, to the celebration of Holy Mass. They promoted sacred music; they wanted architecture and art to contribute to the beauty and solemnity of the rites; they enriched the liturgical calendar with special celebrations such as, for example, the commemoration of the faithful deceased at the beginning of November, which we also celebrated a short time ago; the they enhanced devotion to the Virgin Mary.

So much importance was given to the liturgy because the monks of Cluny were convinced that it was participation in the liturgy of Heaven. And the monks felt responsible to intercede at the altar of God for the living and the dead, given that very many faithful repeatedly requested them to be remembered in prayer. On the other hand, it was precisely for this purpose that William the Pious had desired the birth of the Abbey of Cluny. In the ancient document, which attests to the foundation, we read: "With this gift I establish that a monastery of regulars be built at Cluny in honor of the Holy Apostles Peter and Paul, and that monks gather here who live according to the Rule of St. Benedict (...) and that it be a venerable asylum of prayer which is frequented with vows and supplications, seeking and yearning with every desire and profound ardor the celestial life, and assiduous prayers, invocations and supplications addressed to the Lord."

To guard and nourish this climate of prayer, the rule of Cluny emphasized the importance of silence, a discipline to which the monks willingly submitted themselves, convinced that the purity of the virtues, to which they aspired, required profound and constant recollection. It is no wonder that very soon, fame for holiness was attributed to the monastery of Cluny, and that many other monastic communities decided to follow its practices. Many princes and popes requested the abbots of Cluny to spread their reform, to the point that in a short time a multitudinous network of monasteries were linked to Cluny, wither with true and proper juridical links or a sort of charismatic affiliation. Thus a Europe of the spirit was being delineated in the different regions of France, Italy, Spain, Germany and Hungary.

The success of Cluny was assured first of all by the lofty spirituality cultivated there, but also by some other conditions that favored its development. As opposed to what had happened up to then, the monastery of Cluny and the communities depending on it were exempted from the jurisdiction of the local bishops and placed directly under that of the Roman Pontiff. This entailed a special bond with the See of Peter and, thanks precisely to the protection and encouragement of pontiffs, the ideals of purity and fidelity, which the Cluniac reform intended to follow, were able to spread rapidly. Moreover, the abbots were elected without any intervention by the civil authorities, very different to what was the case in other places. Truly worthy persons succeeded one another in the guidance of Cluny and of the numerous dependent monastic communities: Abbot Odo of Cluny, of whom I spoke in a catechesis two months ago, and other great personalities, such as Emard, Maiolus, Odilo and above all Hugh the Great, who carried out their service for long periods, ensured stability to the reform undertaken and to its diffusion. Venerated as saints, in addition to Odo, are Maiolus, Odilo and Hugh.



The Cluniac reform had positive effects not only on the purification and reawakening of monastic life, but also on the life of the universal Church. In fact, the aspiration to evangelical perfection represented a stimulus to combat two grave evils that afflicted the Church in that period: simony, that is the acquisition of compensated pastoral offices, and the immorality of the secular clergy. The abbots of Cluny with their spiritual authoritativeness, the Cluniac monks who became bishops, some of them even popes, were protagonists of such an imposing action of spiritual renewal. And the fruits were not lacking: The celibacy of priests became esteemed and lived, and more transparent procedures were introduced in the assumption of ecclesiastical offices.

Significant also were the benefits contributed to society by monasteries inspired by the Cluniac reform. At a time in which only ecclesiastical institutions provided for the indigent, charity was practiced with determination. In all houses, the almoner had to receive passers-by and needy pilgrims, traveling priests and religious, and above all the poor who came to ask for food and roof for a day. Not less important were two other institutions, typical of Medieval civilization, which were promoted by Cluny: the so-called truce of God and the peace of God. At a time strongly marked by violence and the spirit of revenge, assured with the "truce of God" were long periods of non-belligerence, on the occasion of important religious feasts and of some days of the week. Requested with "the peace of God," under the pain of a canonical censure, was respect for defenseless people and sacred places.

Thus enhanced in the conscience of the people of Europe was that process of long gestation, which led to the recognition, in an ever clearer way, of two essential elements for the construction of society, that is, the value of the human person and the primary good of peace. Moreover, as happened with other monastic foundations, the Cluniac monasteries had ample properties that, put diligently to good use, contributed to the development of the economy. Next to manual labor, there was no lack of some typical cultural activities of Medieval monasticism, such as schools for children, the setting up of libraries and the scriptoria for the transcription of books.

In this way, a thousand years ago, when the process of the formation of European identity was at its height, the Cluniac experience spread over vast regions of the European Continent, and made its important and precious contribution. It recalled the primacy of the goods of the spirit; from this it drew the tension toward the things of God; it inspired and favored initiatives and institutions for the promotion of human values; it educated in a spirit of peace.

Dear brothers and sisters, let us pray so that all those who have at heart a genuine humanism and the future of Europe will be able to rediscover, appreciate and defend the rich cultural and religious patrimony of these centuries.

[Translation by ZENIT]

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

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

In our catechesis on the Christian culture of the Middle Ages, we now turn to the monastic reform linked to the great monastery of Cluny. Founded eleven hundred years ago, Cluny restored the strict observance of the Rule of Saint Benedict and made the Church’s liturgy the centre of its life. It stressed the solemn celebration of the Liturgy of the Hours and Holy Mass, and enriched the worship of God with splendid art, architecture and music. The monastic liturgy, seen as a foretaste of the heavenly liturgy, was accompanied by a daily regime marked by silence and intercessory prayer. Cluny’s reputation for sanctity and learning caused its influence to spread to monasteries throughout Europe. Exempt from interference by feudal authorities, the monastery freely elected its abbots and flourished under a series of outstanding spiritual leaders like Saints Odo and Hugh. Cluny also contributed to the reform of the universal Church by its concern for holiness, the restoration of clerical celibacy and the elimination of simony. At a formative time of Europe’s history, Cluny helped to forge the Continent’s Christian identity by its emphasis on the primacy of the spirit, respect for human dignity, commitment to peace and an authentic and integral humanism.

I cordially welcome the English-speaking visitors in attendance at today’s Audience. I particularly greet pilgrims from the Diocese of Fort Worth, students and staff from the Franciscan University of Steubenville, Diocesan Directors of Communications from England and Wales, as well as priests from Japan. Upon all of you I invoke God’s blessings of joy and peace!

©Copyright 2009 - Libreria Editrice Vaticana

[The Holy Father afterward said in Italian:]

I would now like to greet the young people, the sick and the newlyweds. Dear young people, especially you beloved students of the St. Therese of the Child Jesus School of Santa Marinella, consider the example of St. Martin whose feast we celebrate today, as a model of generous evangelical witness. You, beloved sick people, trust in the Lord, that he will not abandon you in in this time of difficulty. And you, beloved newlyweds, animated by the faith that distinguished St. Martin, always respect and serve life, which is a gift from God.

[Translation by ZENIT]

Thursday, November 05, 2009

On Theology of the Heart or the Mind

On Theology of the Heart or the Mind


"To Make Truth Triumph in Charity"



VATICAN CITY, NOV. 4, 2009 (Zenit.org).- Here is a translation of Benedict XVI's address today during the general audience held in St. Peter's Square.

* * *

Dear brothers and sisters,

In the last catechesis I presented the main characteristics of 12th century monastic and scholastic theology, which in a certain sense we could call, respectively, "theology of the heart" and "theology of reason." A wide debate, at times fiery, took place between the representatives of each current, represented symbolically by the controversy between St. Bernard of Clairvaux and Abelard.

To understand this confrontation between the two great teachers, it is good to recall that theology is the search for a rational understanding, insofar as possible, of the mystery of Christian revelation, believed by faith: fides quaerens intellectum -- faith seeking understanding -- to use a traditional, concise and effective definition.

Now, whereas St. Bernard, typical representative of monastic theology, places the accent on the first part of the definition, that is, on fides -- faith, Abelard, who is a scholastic, stresses the second part, that is, the intellectus -- on understanding through reason. For Bernard, faith itself is gifted with a profound certainty based on the testimony of Scripture and on the teaching of the Church fathers. Faith, moreover, is reinforced by the testimony of the saints and by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit in the soul of each believer. In cases of doubt or ambiguity, faith must be protected and enlightened by the exercise of the ecclesial magisterium.

So for Bernard it is difficult to agree with Abelard and, more generally, with those who subjected the truths of the faith to the critical examination of reason, an examination that, in his opinion, entailed a grave danger, intellectualism, the relativization of truth, discussion of the very truths of the faith. Bernard saw in this way of proceeding an audacity to the point of lacking scruples, fruit of the pride of human intelligence, which attempts to "grasp" the mystery of God. Pained, he wrote thus in one of his letters: "Human wit grasps everything, leaving nothing to faith. It confronts what is beyond it; scrutinizes what is superior to it; invades the world of God; alters, more than illumines, the mysteries of the faith; it does not open what is closed and sealed, but eradicates it, and what is does not find viable, it considers as nothing, and refuses to believe in it" (Epistola CLXXXVIII,1: PL 182, I, 353).

For Bernard, theology has only one end: that of promoting the intense and profound experience of God. Therefore, theology is an aid to love the Lord ever more and better, as states the title of the treatise on the Duty to Love God (De diligendo Deo). Along this way, there are different degrees, which Bernard describes in detail, up to the highest, when the soul of the believer is inebriated on the summits of love. The human soul can attain already on earth that mystical union with the Divine Word, a union that the doctor mellifluus describes as "spiritual espousals." The Divine Word visits her, eliminates the last resistances, illumines her, inflames her and transforms her. In this mystical union, [the soul] enjoys great peace and sweetness, and sings to her Spouse a hymn of joy. As I reminded in the catechesis dedicated to the life and doctrine of St. Bernard, for him theology cannot but be nourished by contemplative prayer, in other words, by the affective union of the heart and mind with God.

Abelard, on the other hand, who is precisely the one who introduced the term "theology" in the sense in which we understand it today, places himself in a different perspective. Born in Brittany, in France, this famous teacher of the 12th century was gifted with a very acute intelligence and his vocation was study. He concerned himself first with philosophy, and then applied the results obtained in this discipline to theology, which he taught in Paris, the most cultured city of the time, and subsequently, in the monasteries in which he lived. He was a brilliant orator: His lessons were followed by true and proper masses of students.

Of a religious spirit but of a restless personality, his life was full of dramatics: He refuted his teachers, had a child with Eloise, an educated and intelligent woman. He was often in controversy with his theological colleagues. He also suffered ecclesiastical condemnations, though he died in full communion with the Church, to whose authority he submitted with a spirit of faith.

In fact St. Bernard contributed to the condemnation of some of Abelard's doctrines in the provincial synod of Sens of 1140, and he also requested the intervention of Pope Innocent II. The abbot of Clairvaux rejected, as we recalled, Abelard's too-intellectualist method, which in his eyes reduced the faith to a simple opinion detached from revealed truth. Bernard's fears were not unfounded, but were shared, moreover, by other great thinkers of his time. In fact, an excessive use of philosophy made Abelard's Trinitarian doctrine dangerously fragile, and thus his idea of God. In the moral field his teaching was not lacking in ambiguity: He insisted on considering the individual's intention as the only source to describe the goodness or evil of moral acts, thus neglecting the objective meaning and moral values of actions: a dangerous subjectivism. This is -- as we know -- a very pertinent element for our times, in which culture often seems marked by a growing tendency to ethical relativism: only the "I" decides what is good for me, at this moment.

However, we must not forget the great merits of Abelard, who had many disciples and who contributed to the development of scholastic theology, destined to express itself in a more mature and fruitful way in the next century. Some of his intuitions should not be undervalued, as for example when he affirms that in non-Christian religious traditions there is already a preparation for the acceptance of Christ, Divine Word.

What can we learn today from the often heated confrontation between Bernard and Abelard and, in general, between monastic and scholastic theology? Above all I believe it shows the usefulness of and the need for a healthy discussion in the Church, especially when the questions debated have not been defined by the magisterium, which continues to be, however, an essential point of reference. St. Bernard, but also Abelard himself, always recognized, without doubting, its authority. Moreover, the condemnations that the latter suffered remind us that in the theological field there must be a balance between what we might call the architectonic principles that have been given to us by Revelation and that, because of this, always are of prime importance, and the interpretative principles suggested by philosophy, that is, by reason, which has an important function, but only instrumental. When this balance between the architecture and the instruments of interpretation diminishes, theological reflection runs the risk of being contaminated with errors, and then it corresponds to the magisterium to exercise that necessary service to truth that is proper to it.

Moreover, it must be emphasized that, between the motivations that induced Bernard to place himself against Abelard and to request the intervention of the magisterium, was, also, the concern to safeguard simple and humble believers, who must be defended when they run the risk of being confused or led astray by opinions that are too personal and by theological argumentations without scruples, which might endanger their faith.

Finally, I would like to recall that the theological confrontation between Bernard and Abelard ended with full reconciliation between them, thanks to the mediation of a common friend, Peter the Venerable, abbot of Cluny, of whom I spoke in a previous catechesis. Abelard showed humility in acknowledging his errors; Bernard used great benevolence. There prevailed in both what should truly be in the heart when a theological controversy is born, that is, to safeguard the faith of the Church and to make truth triumph in charity. May this also be the attitude with which there are confrontations in the Church, always keeping as the aim the pursuit of truth.

[Translation by ZENIT]

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

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

Today we continue our comparison of the monastic and scholastic approaches to theology which we began last week, by looking again at Saint Bernard of Clairvaux, this time in comparison with Abelard. Both of them considered theology as "faith seeking understanding"; but whereas Bernard placed the accent on "faith," Abelard emphasized "understanding." Bernard, for whom the aim of theology was to have a living experience of God, cautioned against intellectual pride which makes us think we can grasp fully the mysteries of faith. Abelard, who strove to apply the insights of philosophy to theology, saw in other religions the seeds of an openness to Christ. The respective approaches of Bernard and Abelard -- one a "theology of the heart" and the other a "theology of reason" -- were not without tension. They therefore illustrate the importance of healthy theological discussion and humble obedience to ecclesial authority. Theology must respect the principles it receives from revelation as it uses philosophy to interpret them. Whenever a theological dispute arises, everyone, and in a particular way the Magisterium, has a responsibility to safeguard the integrity of the faith. As we strive to deepen our understanding of the Gospel, may God strengthen us to extol its truth in charity.

I am pleased to welcome the English-speaking pilgrims present at today's Audience. I particularly greet priests from the dioceses of England and Wales celebrating Jubilees, pilgrims from the Diocese of Wichita, students and teachers from Catholic schools in Denmark, and Catholic nurses from the United States. God's blessings upon you all!

©Copyright 2009 - Libreria Editrice Vaticana

[He added in Italian:]

I greet, finally, young people, the sick and newlyweds. Today is the liturgical memorial of St. Charles Borromeo, famous bishop of the Diocese of Milan, who, animated by ardent love for Christ, was a tireless teacher and guide. May his example help you, dear young people, to let yourselves be led by Christ in your daily choices; may it encourage you, dear sick people, to offer your suffering for the pastors of the Church and for the salvation of souls; may it support you, dear newlyweds, in founding your family on evangelical values.

[Translation by ZENIT]

Monday, November 02, 2009

On the Communion of Saints

On the Communion of Saints

"We Are Never Alone! We Form Part of a Spiritual Company"



VATICAN CITY, NOV. 2, 2009 (Zenit.org).- Here is a translation of the address Benedict XVI gave Sunday before and after praying the midday Angelus with the faithful gathered in St. Peter's Square.

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Dear Brothers and Sisters!

This Sunday coincides with the solemnity of All Saints, which invites the pilgrim Church on earth to anticipate the endless celebration of the heavenly community, and to revive the hope in eternal life. It is 14 centuries ago this year since the Pantheon -- one of the most ancient and famous Roman monuments -- was destined to Christian worship and dedicated to the Virgin Mary and all the martyrs: Sancta Maria ad Martyres. The temple of all the pagan divinities thus became a memorial of all those who, as the Book of Revelation states, "are they who have come out of the great tribulation; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb" (Revelation 7:14).

Subsequently, the celebration of all the martyrs was extended to all the saints, "a great multitude which no man could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and tongues" (Revelation 7:9) -- as is expressed by St. John. In this Year of Priests, I like to remember with special veneration all holy priests, both those whom the Church has canonized, proposing them as examples of spiritual and pastoral virtues, as well as those -- much more numerous -- whom the Lord knows. Each one of us cherishes the memory of some one of them, who has helped us to grow in the faith and has made us feel the goodness and closeness of God.

Tomorrow we will observe the annual commemoration of all the deceased faithful. I would like to invite you to live this annual celebration in keeping with a genuine Christian spirit, that is, in the light that proceeds from the Paschal Mystery. Christ has died and risen and has opened to us the way to the house of the Father, Kingdom of life and peace. He who follows Jesus in this life is received where he has preceded us.

Therefore, while we visit cemeteries, let us remember that there, in the tombs, only the mortal remains of our loved ones rest, while awaiting the final resurrection. Their souls -- as Scripture says -- already "are in the hand of God" (Wisdom 3:1). Hence, the most appropriate and effective way to honor them is to pray for them, offering acts of faith, hope and charity. In union with the Eucharistic sacrifice, we can intercede for their eternal salvation, and experience the most profound communion while awaiting to be reunited again, to enjoy forever the love that created us and redeemed us.

Dear friends, how beautiful and consoling is the communion of saints! It is a reality that infuses a different dimension to our whole life. We are never alone! We form part of a spiritual "company" in which profound solidarity reigns: the good of each one is for the benefit of all and, vice versa, the common happiness is radiated in each one. It is a mystery that, in a certain measure, we can already experience in this world, in the family, in friendship, especially in the spiritual community of the Church. May Mary Most Holy help us to walk swiftly on the way of sanctity and show herself a Mother of mercy for the souls of the deceased.

[After the Angelus, the Holy Father said:]

Exactly ten years have passed since leading representatives of the World Lutheran Federation and the Catholic Church signed the Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification, in Augsburg, on Oct. 31, 1999. Subsequently, in 2006, the World Methodist Council also adhered to it. This document certified a consensus between Lutherans and Catholics on fundamental truths of the doctrine of justification, truths that take us to the very heart of the Gospel and to essential questions of our life.

We are received and redeemed by God; our existence is inscribed on the horizon of grace, it is guided by a merciful God, who forgives our sin and calls us to a new life following his Son; we live from the grace of God and we are called to respond to his gift; all this liberates us from fear and infuses hope and courage in us in a world full of uncertainty, anxiety and suffering.

The Servant of God John Paul II described the day of the signing of the Joint Declaration as "a milestone in the difficult path to reconstitute full unity among Christians" (Angelus, October 31, 1999). This anniversary, therefore, is an occasion to recall the truth about man's justification, testified together, to come together in ecumenical celebrations and to reflect further on this and other topics that are the object of the ecumenical dialogue.

It is my heartfelt hope that this important anniversary will contribute to make us progress on the path toward the full and visible unity of all the disciples of Christ.

[Translation by ZENIT]

[In English, the Pope said:]

I greet all the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors present for this Angelus. Today we celebrate the great solemnity of All Saints. In honoring all of the holy men and women gone before us marked with the sign of faith, and who are now united with the Lord in Heaven, we are encouraged to pray and work with pure hearts as we anticipate with joy seeing the Lord as he really is. Upon each of you and your loved ones at home, I invoke God's abundant blessings!

© Copyright 2009 -- Libreria Editrice Vaticana