Benedict unscripted

This past Thursday the Holy Father celebrated Mass in the Pauline Chapel with members of the Pontifical Commission at which Pope Benedict XVI delivered an unscripted homily.

Sandro Magister has given us the translation of his homily, with my emphases and comments:

Dear brothers and sisters, I couldn't find the time to prepare a true homily [I know how that goes; I was in the same boat the last two weekends. I was able to put thoughts together in my mind and loosely throw them on paper, but it wasn't possible to write them out as I prefer. I do like the notion that a homily is "true" only if it is prepared]. I would simply like to invite each one to personal meditation, presenting and emphasizing a few of the phrases from today's liturgy, which lend themselves to the prayerful dialogue between ourselves and the Word of God [this is a legitimate option, though not for Sundays and Solemnities]. The word, the phrase that I would like to propose for shared meditation is this great statement by Saint Peter: "We must obey God rather than men" (Acts 5:29). Saint Peter is standing in front of the supreme religious institution, which normally one must obey, but God is above this institution, and God has given another "order": one must obey God. Obedience to God is freedom, obedience to God gives him the freedom to oppose the institution.

And here the exegetes draw our attention to the fact that Saint Peter's reply to the Sanhedrin is almost identical, word for word, to Socrates' response to his sentence in the tribunal of Athens. The tribunal offers him freedom, liberation, but on the condition that he not continue to seek God. But seeking God, the search for God is for him a superior mandate, it comes from God himself. And a freedom purchased with the renunciation of the journey to God would no longer be freedom. So it is not these judges that he must obey - he must not buy his life by losing himself - but he must obey God. Obedience to God has the primacy.

Here it is important to emphasize that this is a matter of obedience, and that it is precisely obedience that gives freedom. The modern age has spoken of the liberation of man, of his full autonomy, and therefore also of liberation from obedience to God. It is said that obedience should no longer exist, man is free, he is autonomous: nothing else. But this autonomy is a lie: it is an ontological lie, because man does not exist on his own and for himself, and it is also a political and practical lie, because collaboration, the sharing of freedom, is necessary. And if God does not exist, if God is not an imperative accessible to man, what remains as the supreme imperative is only the consensus of the majority. As a result, the consensus of the majority becomes the last word, which we must obey. And this consensus - we know this from the history of the last century - can also be a "consensus in evil."

So we see that so-called autonomy does not truly liberate man. Obedience to God is freedom, because it is the truth, it is the imperative that stands before all human imperatives. In the history of humanity, these words of Peter and of Socrates are the true beacon of liberation for man, who is able to see God and, in the name of God, can and must obey not so much men, but Him, and thus free himself from the positivism of human obedience. The dictatorships have always been against this obedience to God. The Nazi dictatorship, like that of Marxism, cannot accept a God who stands above ideological power; and the freedom of the martyrs, who recognize God precisely in obedience to divine power, is always the act of liberation by which the freedom of Christ comes to us.

Today, thank God, we do not live under dictatorships, but there exist subtle forms of dictatorship: a conformism that becomes obligatory, to think the way everyone else thinks, to act the way everyone else acts, and the subtle forms of aggression against the Church, or even the less subtle ones, demonstrate how this conformism can really be a true dictatorship. What matters to us is this: we must obey God rather than men. But that supposes that we truly know God, and that we truly want to obey Him. God is not a pretext for one's own will, but it is really He who calls and invites us, if it is necessary, even to martyrdom. Therefore, confronted by this word that begins a new history of freedom in the world, let us pray above all to know God, to know God humbly and truly, and, knowing God, to learn the true obedience that is the foundation of human freedom.

Let's take a second passage from the first reading: Saint Peter says that God has raised Christ to his right hand as leader and savior (cf. v. 31). "Leader" is a translation of the Greek term "archegos," which implies a much more dynamic vision: the archegos is the one who shows the way, who goes before, it is a movement, a movement upward. God has raised him to his right hand - therefore speaking of Christ as archegos means that Christ walks before us, precedes us, shows us the way. And being in communion with Christ means being on a journey, ascending with Christ, it is following Christ, it is this upward ascent, it is following the archegos, the one who has already gone before us, who precedes us and shows us the way.

Here, obviously, it is important that we be told where Christ arrives, and where we must also arrive: hypsosen - on high - ascending to the right hand of the Father. Following Christ is not only an imitation of his virtues, it is not only living in this world, as much as we are able, as Christ did, according to his word, but it is a journey that has a destination. And the destination is the right hand of the Father. There is this journey of Jesus, this following of Jesus that ends at the right hand of the Father. It is to the horizon of this following that the entire journey of Jesus belongs, including his arrival at the right hand of the Father.

In this sense, the destination of this journey is eternal life at the right hand of the Father in communion with Christ. Often today we are afraid of talking about eternal life. We talk about things that are useful for the world, we show that Christianity also helps to improve the world, but we do not dare to say that its true destination is eternal life, and that it is from this destination that the criteria of life come. We must again come to understand that Christianity remains a "fragment" if we do not think about this destination, that we want to follow the archegos to the height where God is, to the glory of the Son who makes us sons in the Son, and we must again come to recognize that only in the grand perspective of eternal life does Christianity reveal all of its meaning. We must have the courage, the joy, the great hope that eternal life exists, it is true life and from this true life comes the light that also illuminates this world.

If it can be said that, even apart from eternal life, from the promised Heaven, it is better to live according to Christian criteria, because living according to truth and love, even if it is under many persecutions, is in itself a good and is better than all the rest, it is precisely this will to live according to the truth and according to love that must also open to all the breadth of God's plan for us, to the courage to have already the joy in anticipation of eternal life, of the ascent following our archegos. And Soter is the Savior, who saves us from ignorance about the last things. The Savior saves us from solitude, he saves us from a void that remains in life without eternity, he saves us by giving us love in its fullness. He is the guide. Christ, the archegos, saves us by giving us the light, giving us the truth, giving us the love of God.

Let's look at another verse: Christ, the Savior, has given Israel conversion and forgiveness of sins (v. 31) - in the Greek text the term is metanoia - he has given penance and forgiveness of sins. This for me is a very important observation: penance is a grace. There is a tendency in exegesis that says: Jesus in Galilee had announced a grace without condition, absolutely unconditional, therefore also without penance, grace as such, without human preconditions. But this is a false interpretation of grace. Penance is grace; it is a grace that we recognize our sin, it is a grace that we know we need renewal, change, a transformation of our being. Penance, being able to do penance, is the gift of grace. And I must say that we Christians, even in recent times, have often avoided the word penance, it has seemed too harsh to us. Now, under the attacks of the world that speak to us of our sins, we see that being able to do penance is grace. And we see that it is necessary to do penance, that is, to recognize what is wrong in our life, open ourselves to forgiveness, prepare ourselves for forgiveness, allow ourselves to be transformed. The suffering of penance, of purification, of transformation, this suffering is grace, because it is renewal, it is the work of divine mercy. And so these two things that Saint Peter says - penance and forgiveness - correspond to the beginning of the preaching of Jesus: metanoeite, which means be converted (cf. Mk. 1:15). So this is the fundamental point: metanoia is not a private thing, which would seem to be replaced by grace, but metanoia is the arrival of the grace that transforms us.

And finally a word from the Gospel, where we are told that those who believe will have eternal life (cf. Jn. 3:36). In faith, in this "transformation" that penance gives, in this conversion, in this new way of life, we find life, true life. And here I am reminded of two other texts. In the "Priestly Prayer," the Lord says: this is life, to know you and the one you have consecrated (cf. Jn. 17:3). Knowing the essential, knowing the decisive Person, knowing God and the One he has sent is life, life and knowledge, knowledge of realities that are life. And the other text is the Lord's reply to the Sadducees about the Resurrection, where from the books of Moses the Lord proves the fact of the Resurrection, saying: God is the God of Abraham, of Isaac, of Jacob (cf. Mt. 22:31-32; Mk. 12:26-27; Lk. 20:37-38). God is not the God of the dead. If God is God of these, they are alive. Those who are written in the name of God participate in the life of God, they live. And so to believe is to be inscribed in the name of God. And so we are alive. Those who belong to the name of God are not dead, they belong to the living God. In this sense we must understand the dynamism of the faith, which is a writing of our name in the name of God, and so an entry into life.

Let us pray to the Lord that this may happen and that, with our life, we may really know God, so that our names may enter into the name of God, and our existence become true life: eternal life, love and truth.

That's not bad at all for an "off-the-cuff" homily. I wish mine were like that.

Homily - 8 April 2009

Friday of the Fourth Week of Easter
Mass with the Students and Parents of the High School
The Announcement of My First Pastorate

My dear young friends,

Four years ago, Bishop Lucas sent me here to proclaim the Good News “that what God promised our fathers he has brought to fulfillment for us, their children, by raising up Jesus” (Acts 13:32). When he asked me to return to St. Anthony’s as a priest, he said to me, “You’re young and have lots of energy, and if you want, you can help out at the high school.” As you know, I accepted these “marching orders” and invested myself here among you. These several years later, my time with you has been one of the greatest blessings of my life.

Some of you know that for the past three years I have served on the Priests Personnel Board, advising the Bishop about the assignments of priests. This Board met Tuesday morning; it was a difficult and heart-wrenching meeting for me.

Tuesday evening, one of you posed this question to me: “At the end of the [school] year, if you could have your choice of going anywhere or staying here, what would you choose?” He had no idea how his question stung, how it cut straight to my heart.

I told him I would choose to stay here, but only six hours earlier, Bishop Lucas asked me to assume the pastorates of Sacred Heart Parish in Virden and of St. Patrick Parish in Girard. With great reluctance I accepted, remembering my promise of obedience given him on the day he ordained me to the priesthood of Jesus Christ. I wanted you to be the first to know, after the parish staff.

It is with a heavy heart that I hear the words of the Psalmist today: “Serve the Lord with fear, and rejoice before him; with trembling rejoice” (Psalm 2:11). These are certainly the sentiments of my heart.

I knew this day would come, though I honestly thought and hoped I would have one more year with you. Indeed, it was my heart’s desire to remain here among you. You know that many plans have already been made with you and most of these will – I regret to say – have to change. At the same time, many celebrations will have to be planned in the weeks ahead. Exactly what this means I do not know; we can work this out.

At this moment I do not know when my new assignment in Virden and Girard begins. All I can say is that it will likely begin sometime between the first of July and the middle of September.

Although I know that the Lord will bring many blessings through this new assignment, I have no desire to leave St. Anthony’s – least of all to leave you.

My heart feels as though it has been torn from my chest and pounded several times. And yet, Jesus says to me today, as he says to you, “Do not let your hearts be troubled. You have faith in God; have faith also in me” (John 14:1). With these words, let us recall what I have told you so often these past few years.

I have told you that our only happiness lies in God and in following his will for our lives. This new assignment two hours west of here – just south of Springfield – is the will of the Lord for me, as given through Bishop Lucas. Difficult as it is, I accept this assignment with humble trust, remembering that when I laid down on the cool marble floor of the Cathedral the day I was ordained I gave my life to Jesus Christ and his Church. As I ask the Lord today to give me – and you – his joy and peace, I place my life again at the service of his Church.

We know that Saint Thomas said to Jesus, “Master, we do not know where you are going; how can we know the way” (John 14:5). The Lord is now entrusting me with a portion of his flock and I find myself saying to him, “Master, I do not know where you are leading me; how can I know the way?”

One of my favorite singers and songwriters is Rich Mullins. In his song, “Hard to Get,” he sings,

I can’t see how You’re leading me
Unless You’ve led me here
Where I’m lost enough to let myself be led.
And so You’ve been here all along I guess
It’s just Your ways and You are just plain hard to get.

Jesus is now asking me to let myself be led by him so that I will be better able to lead others to him.

I do not fully understand the Lord’s will in this new assignment, but I will listen to his words, “I am the way and the truth and the life” (John 14:6).

His way is the way of the Cross, the way of self-abandonment and love. His way requires the giving of one’s own self, of one’s own life, so that others might live. This I have tried to do for you during my time among you, and now, as I prepare to leave you, I am offering this for you as well.

In a time such as this, I find myself asking, “How do I want to be remembered here?” We have had many enjoyable moments, my friends, in the classroom, on the soccer field, on the wrestling mat and the track field, in the weight room, in busses and vans and cars, and even at Buffalo Wild Wings. These moments I hope you will remember; I will remember them and cherish them. But this is what I want you to remember above all else: the love of Jesus Christ.

If my time among you has been nothing more than a bunch of laughter and goofing around with Dr Pepper, sour balls and Apples to Apples, if I have not somehow helped you to realize and understand more deeply the love of God, then I have failed in my mission. If such is the case, I offer my sincere apologies and beg your forgiveness. But if my time among you has helped to lead you closer to Jesus, let us together give him thanks and praise, for it is he who has used me, his simple and humble laborer, for his own glory.

Five or ten years from now, if you think of me I hope it will be because you have realized the beauty and the importance of living for others. The way of Jesus Christ – the way which the saints have followed – shows us that it is better, that is more fulfilling and more human – to care more about other people than to care about myself. I want to leave behind a group of young people who care more about others than they do themselves. This is what I want you to remember: that life is best lived when it is lived for God and for others! Live in this way, my dear young friends, and despite what storms of life may be befall you, your hearts will not long be troubled, for you will rest securely in the embrace of God.

I do have one final gift to leave you: church service hours. In the weeks – and, God willing – months ahead, I will count on you to help me pack. And if you want to form a caravan to help me move, I would be deeply honored and happy to make dinner for all who help.

I cannot thank you enough for the love and joy you have shared with me these past few years. I have no words to express my deep gratitude but these two simple words: thank you. With all my heart, I thank you. I have very much enjoyed your friendship and I count on your continued friendship in the years to come. Know that if you ever need a laugh, if you ever need to talk, if you have a question that needs an answer or you simply want to try to stump me still, I am only a phone call, a text message, or a Facebook message away.

Finally, I must beg your prayers for me. I have no idea what the future holds for me and I look into it now with much trepidation. I do not feel ready to be a pastor, but this is what the Lord is now asking of me and he will strengthen me with his grace to fulfill the duties he is entrusting to me.

Pray, my dear young friends, that I will be a good, holy and zealous pastor of the flock that will soon be entrusted to me. And know that I will remember you each day in my prayers, as I ask the Lord to bless you abundantly. May his joy and peace be with us all this day. Amen.

Chaput on Francis

The Most Reverend Charles J. Caput, O.F.M. Cap., the Archbishop of Denver, has a very good reflection on Saint Francis of Assisi as "the model of authentic Church reform."

His Excellency begins his reflection by relating that he received an e-mail complaining "that the Archdiocese of Denver was becoming a magnet for every flaky, right wing new group in the Church." The son of the Poverello immediately thought of his spiritual father.

Archbishop Chaput then recounts - briefly and well - the life of this holy man, noting that "instead of tearing her down because of the sins of her leaders, Francis chose to love the Church and serve her - and because of that love and by his simply living of the Gospel without compromise, he became the means God used for the conversion and renewal of a whole age of faith."

His Excellency reminds us that "when an individual or even a religious community redefines obedience to mean something other than a practical, willing obedience to the Gospel and to the pastor's of Christ's Church -- not matter how imperfect those pastors are -- what always results, without exception, is disobedience to Christ Himself. So if the new communities in the Church are 'right and flaky' because they seek to be obedient, then so was St. Francis, and we need a lot more of it."

The entire article is well worth reading.

Ponderables from the Poverello

Take a corpse and put it where you will! You will see that it does not resist being moved, nor murmur about its position nor protest when it is cast aside. If it is placed on a throne, it will not raise its eyes up, but cast them down. If it is clothed in purple, it will look twice as pale. This is a truly obedient man. He does not judge why he is moved; he does not care where he is placed; he does not insist on being transferred. If he is raised to an office, he retains his customary humility. The more he is honored, the more unworthy he considers himself.

– St. Francis of Assisi in Bonaventure, The Life of St. Francis 6.4