Dives in misericordia
Encyclical Letter of John Paul II
November 30, 1980
This document is
divided into two parts:
PART I (this page)
PART II
I. HE WHO SEES ME SEES THE FATHER (cf. John 14:9)
1. The Revelation of Mercy
It is "God, who is rich in mercy" 1 whom Jesus Christ has
revealed to us as Father: it is His very Son who, in Himself,
has manifested Him and made Him known to us.2 Memorable in this
regard is the moment when Philip, one of the twelve Apostles,
turned to Christ and said: "Lord, show us the Father, and we
shall be satisfied"; and Jesus replied: "Have I been with you so
long, and yet you do not know me...? He who has seen me has seen
the Father."3 These words were spoken during the farewell
discourse at the end of the paschal supper, which was followed
by the events of those holy days during which confirmation was
to be given once and for all of the fact that "God, who is rich
in mercy, out of the great love with which he loved us, even
when we were dead through our trespasses, made us alive together
with Christ."4
Following the teaching of the Second Vatican Council and paying
close attention to the special needs of our times, I devoted the
encyclical Redemptor hominis to the truth about man, a truth
that is revealed to us in its fullness and depth in Christ. A no
less important need in these critical and difficult times impels
me to draw attention once again in Christ to the countenance of
the "Father of mercies and God of all comfort."5 We read in the
Constitution Gaudium et spes: "Christ the new Adam...fully
reveals man to himself and brings to light his lofty calling,"
and does it "in the very revelation of the mystery of the Father
and of his love."6 The words that I have quoted are clear
testimony to the fact that man cannot be manifested in the full
dignity of his nature without reference - not only on the level
of concepts but also in an integrally existential way - to God.
Man and man's lofty calling are revealed in Christ through the
revelation of the mystery of the Father and His love.
For this reason it is now fitting to reflect on this mystery. It
is called for by the varied experiences of the Church and of
contemporary man. It is also demanded by the pleas of many human
hearts, their sufferings and hopes, their anxieties and
expectations. While it is true that every individual human being
is, as I said in my encyclical Redemptor hominis, the way for
the Church, at the same time the Gospel and the whole of
Tradition constantly show us that we must travel this day with
every individual just as Christ traced it out by revealing in
Himself the Father and His love.7 In Jesus Christ, every path to
man, as it has been assigned once and for all to the Church in
the changing context of the times, is simultaneously an approach
to the Father and His love. The Second Vatican Council has
confirmed this truth for our time.
The more the Church's mission is centered upon man-the more it
is, so to speak, anthropocentric-the more it must be confirmed
and actualized theocentrically, that is to say, be directed in
Jesus Christ to the Father. While the various currents of human
thought both in the past and at the present have tended and
still tend to separate theocentrism and anthropocentrism, and
even to set them in opposition to each other, the Church,
following Christ, seeks to link them up in human history, in a
deep and organic way. And this is also one of the basic
principles, perhaps the most important one, of the teaching of
the last Council. Since, therefore, in the present phase of the
Church's history we put before ourselves as our primary task the
implementation of the doctrine of the great Council, we must act
upon this principle with faith, with an open mind and with all
our heart. In the encyclical already referred to, I have tried
to show that the deepening and the many-faceted enrichment of
the Church's consciousness resulting from the Council must open
our minds and our hearts more widely to Christ. Today I wish to
say that openness to Christ, who as the Redeemer of the world
fully reveals man himself," can only be achieved through an ever
more mature reference to the Father and His love.
2. The Incarnation of Mercy
Although God "dwells in unapproachable light,"8 He speaks to man
he means of the whole of the universe: "ever since the creation
of the world his invisible nature, namely, his eternal power and
deity, has been clearly perceived in the things that have been
made."9 This indirect and imperfect knowledge, achieved by the
intellect seeking God by means of creatures through the visible
world, falls short of "vision of the Father." "No one has ever
seen God," writes St. John, in order to stress the truth that
"the only Son, who is in the bosom of the Father, he has made
him known."10 This "making known" reveals God in the most
profound mystery of His being, one and three, surrounded by
"unapproachable light."11 Nevertheless, through this "making
known" by Christ we know God above all in His relationship of
love for man: in His "philanthropy."12 It is precisely here that
"His invisible nature" becomes in a special way "visible,"
incomparably more visible than through all the other "things
that have been made": it becomes visible in Christ and through
Christ, through His actions and His words, and finally through
His death on the cross and His resurrection.
In this way, in Christ and through Christ, God also becomes
especially visible in His mercy; that is to say, there is
emphasized that attribute of the divinity which the Old
Testament, using various concepts and terms, already defined as
"mercy." Christ confers on the whole of the Old Testament
tradition about God's mercy a definitive meaning. Not only does
He speak of it and explain it by the use of comparisons and
parables, but above all He Himself makes it incarnate and
personifies it. He Himself, in a certain sense, is mercy. To the
person who sees it in Him - and finds it in Him - God becomes
"visible" in a particular way as the Father who is rich in
mercy."13
The present-day mentality, more perhaps than that of people in
the past, seems opposed to a God of mercy, and in fact tends to
exclude from life and to remove from the human heart the very
idea of mercy. The word and the concept of "mercy" seem to cause
uneasiness in man, who, thanks to the enormous development of
science and technology, never before known in history, has
become the master of the earth and has subdued and dominated
it.14 This dominion over the earth, sometimes understood in a
one - sided and superficial way, seems to have no room for
mercy. However, in this regard we can profitably refer to the
picture of "man's situation in the world today" as described at
the beginning of the Constitution Gaudium et spes. Here we read
the following sentences: "In the light of the foregoing factors
there appears the dichotomy of a world that is at once powerful
and weak, capable of doing what is noble and what is base,
disposed to freedom and slavery, progress and decline,
brotherhood and hatred. Man is growing conscious that the forces
he has unleashed are in his own hands and that it is up to him
to control them or be enslaved by them."15
The situation of the world today not only displays
transformations that give grounds for hope in a better future
for man on earth, but also reveals a multitude of threats, far
surpassing those known up till now. Without ceasing to point out
these threats on various occasions (as in addresses at UNO, to
UNESCO, to FAO and elsewhere), the Church must at the same time
examine them in the light of the truth received from God.
The truth, revealed in Christ, about God the "Father of
mercies,"16 enables us to "see" Him as particularly close to man
especially when man is suffering, when he is under threat at the
very heart of his existence and dignity. And this is why, in the
situation of the Church and the world today, many individuals
and groups guided by a lively sense of faith are turning, I
would say almost spontaneously, to the mercy of God. They are
certainly being moved to do this by Christ Himself, who through
His Spirit works within human hearts. For the mystery of God the
"Father of mercies" revealed by Christ becomes, in the context
of today's threats to man, as it were a unique appeal addressed
to the Church.
In the present encyclical wish to accept this appeal; I wish to
draw from the eternal and at the same time-for its simplicity
and depth- incomparable language of revelation and faith, in
order through this same language to express once more before God
and before humanity the major anxieties of our time.
In fact, revelation and faith teach us not only to meditate in
the abstract upon the mystery of God as "Father of mercies," but
also to have recourse to that mercy in the name of Christ and in
union with Him. Did not Christ say that our Father, who "sees in
secret,"17 is always waiting for us to have recourse to Him in
every need and always waiting for us to study His mystery: the
mystery of the Father and His love?18
I therefore wish these considerations to bring this mystery
closer to everyone. At the same time I wish them to be a
heartfelt appeal by the Church to mercy, which humanity and the
modern world need so much. And they need mercy even though they
often do not realize it.
II. THE MESSIANIC MESSAGE
3. When Christ Began To Do and To Teach
Before His own townspeople, in Nazareth, Christ refers to the
words of the prophet Isaiah: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He
has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovering
of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are
oppressed, to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord."19 These
phrases, according to Luke, are His first messianic declaration.
They are followed by the actions and words known through the
Gospel. By these actions and words Christ makes the Father
present among men. It is very significant that the people in
question are especially the poor, those without means of
subsistence, those deprived of their freedom, the blind who
cannot see the beauty of creation, those living with broken
hearts, or suffering from social injustice, and finally sinners.
It is especially for these last that the Messiah becomes a
particularly clear sign of God who is love, a sign of the
Father. In this visible sign the people of our own time, just
like the people then, can see the Father.
It is significant that, when the messengers sent by John the
Baptist came to Jesus to ask Him: "Are you he who is to come, or
shall we look for another?",20 He answered by referring to the
same testimony with which He had begun His teaching at Nazareth:
"Go and tell John what it is that you have seen and heard: the
blind receive their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed,
and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, the poor have good
news preached to them." He then ended with the words: "And
blessed is he who takes no offense at me".21
Especially through His lifestyle and through His actions, Jesus
revealed that love is present in the world in which we live - an
effective love, a love that addresses itself to man and embraces
everything that makes up his humanity. This love makes itself
particularly noticed in contact with suffering, injustice and
poverty - in contact with the whole historical "human
condition," which in various ways manifests man's limitation and
frailty, both physical and moral. It is precisely the mode and
sphere in which love manifests itself that in biblical language
is called "mercy."
Christ, then, reveals God who is Father, who is "love," as St.
John will express it in his first letter22; Christ reveals God
as "rich in mercy," as we read in St. Paul.23 This truth is not
just the subject of a teaching; it is a reality made present to
us by Christ. Making the Father present as love and mercy is, in
Christ's own consciousness, the fundamental touchstone of His
mission as the Messiah; this is confirmed by the words that He
uttered first in the synagogue at Nazareth and later in the
presence of His disciples and of John the Baptist's messengers.
On the basis of this way of manifesting the presence of God who
is Father, love and mercy, Jesus makes mercy one of the
principal themes of His preaching. As is His custom, He first
teaches "in parables," since these express better the very
essence of things. It is sufficient to recall the parable of the
prodigal son,24 or the parable of the Good Samaritan,25 but also
- by contrast - the parable of the merciless servant.26 There
are many passages in the teaching of Christ that manifest
love-mercy under some ever-fresh aspect. We need only consider
the Good Shepherd who goes in search of the lost sheep, 27 or
the woman who sweeps the house in search of the lost coin.28 The
Gospel writer who particularly treats of these themes in
Christ's teaching is Luke, whose Gospel has earned the title of
"the Gospel of mercy."
When one speaks of preaching, one encounters a problem of major
importance with reference to the meaning of terms and the
content of concepts, especially the content of the concept of
"mercy" (in relationship to the concept of "love"). A grasp of
the content of these concepts is the key to understanding the
very reality of mercy. And this is what is most important for
us. However, before devoting a further part of our
considerations to this subject, that is to say, to establishing
the meaning of the vocabulary and the content proper to the
concept of mercy," we must note that Christ, in revealing the
love - mercy of God, at the same time demanded from people that
they also should be guided in their lives by love and mercy.
This requirement forms part of the very essence of the messianic
message, and constitutes the heart of the Gospel ethos. The
Teacher expresses this both through the medium of the
commandment which He describes as "the greatest,"29 and also in
the form of a blessing, when in the Sermon on the Mount He
proclaims: "Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain
mercy."30
In this way, the messianic message about mercy preserves a
particular divine-human dimension. Christ - the very fulfillment
of the messianic prophecy - by becoming the incarnation of the
love that is manifested with particular force with regard to the
suffering, the unfortunate and sinners, makes present and thus
more fully reveals the Father, who is God "rich in mercy." At
the same time, by becoming for people a model of merciful love
for others, Christ proclaims by His actions even more than by
His words that call to mercy which is one of the essential
elements of the Gospel ethos. In this instance it is not just a
case of fulfilling a commandment or an obligation of an ethical
nature; it is also a case of satisfying a condition of major
importance for God to reveal Himself in His mercy to man: "The
merciful...shall obtain mercy."
III. THE OLD TESTAMENT
4. The Concept of "Mercy" in the Old Testament
The concept of "mercy" in the Old Testament has a long and rich
history. We have to refer back to it in order that the mercy
revealed by Christ may shine forth more clearly. By revealing
that mercy both through His actions and through His teaching,
Christ addressed Himself to people who not only knew the concept
of mercy, but who also, as the People of God of the Old
Covenant, had drawn from their age - long history a special
experience of the mercy of God. This experience was social and
communal, as well as individual and interior.
Israel was, in fact, the people of the covenant with God, a
covenant that it broke many times. Whenever it became aware of
its infidelity - and in the history of Israel there was no lack
of prophets and others who awakened this awareness-it appealed
to mercy. In this regard, the books of the Old Testament give us
very many examples. Among the events and texts of greater
importance one may recall: the beginning of the history of the
Judges,31 the prayer of Solomon at the inauguration of the
Temple,32 part of the prophetic work of Micah,33 the consoling
assurances given by Isaiah,34 the cry of the Jews in exile,35
and the renewal of the covenant after the return from exile.36
It is significant that in their preaching the prophets link
mercy, which they often refer to because of the people's sins,
with the incisive image of love on God's part. The Lord loves
Israel with the love of a special choosing, much like the love
of a spouse,37 and for this reason He pardons its sins and even
its infidelities and betrayals. When He finds repentance and
true conversion, He brings His people back to grace.38 In the
preaching of the prophets, mercy signifies a special power of
love, which prevails over the sin and infidelity of the chosen
people.
In this broad "social" context, mercy appears as a correlative
to the interior experience of individuals languishing in a state
of guilt or enduring every kind of suffering and misfortune.
Both physical evil and moral evil, namely sin, cause the sons
and daughters of Israel to turn to the Lord and beseech His
mercy. In this way David turns to Him, conscious of the
seriousness of his guilt39; Job too, after his rebellion, turns
to Him in his tremendous misfortune40; so also does Esther,
knowing the mortal threat to her own people.41 And we find still
other examples in the books of the Old Testament.42
At the root of this many-sided conviction, which is both
communal and personal, and which is demonstrated by the whole of
the Old Testament down the centuries, is the basic experience of
the chosen people at the Exodus: the Lord saw the affliction of
His people reduced to slavery, heard their cry, knew their
sufferings and decided to deliver them.43 In this act of
salvation by the Lord, the prophet perceived his love and
compassion.44 This is precisely the grounds upon which the
people and each of its members based their certainty of the
mercy of God, which can be invoked whenever tragedy strikes.
Added to this is the fact that sin too constitutes man's misery.
The people of the Old Covenant experienced this misery from the
time of the Exodus, when they set up the golden calf. The Lord
Himself triumphed over this act of breaking the covenant when He
solemnly declared to Moses that He was a "God merciful and
gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and
faithfulness."45 It is in this central revelation that the
chosen people, and each of its members, will find, every time
that they have sinned, the strength and the motive for turning
to the Lord to remind Him of what He had exactly revealed about
Himself46 and to beseech His forgiveness.
Thus, in deeds and in words, the Lord revealed His mercy from
the very beginnings of the people which He chose for Himself;
and, in the course of its history, this people continually
entrusted itself, both when stricken with misfortune and when it
became aware of its sin, to the God of mercies. All the
subtleties of love become manifest in the Lord's mercy towards
those who are His own: He is their Father,47 for Israel is His
firstborn son48; the Lord is also the bridegroom of her whose
new name the prophet proclaims: Ruhamah, "Beloved" or "she has
obtained pity."49
Even when the Lord is exasperated by the infidelity of His
people and thinks of finishing with it, it is still His
tenderness and generous love for those who are His own which
overcomes His anger.50 Thus it is easy to understand why the
psalmists, when they desire to sing the highest praises of the
Lord, break forth into hymns to the God of love, tenderness,
mercy and fidelity.51
From all this it follows that mercy does not pertain only to the
notion of God, but it is something that characterizes the life
of the whole people of Israel and each of its sons and
daughters: mercy is the content of intimacy with their Lord, the
content of their dialogue with Him. Under precisely this aspect,
mercy is presented in the individual books of the Old Testament
with a great richness of expression. It may be difficult to find
in these books a purely theoretical answer to the question of
what mercy is in itself. Nevertheless, the terminology that is
used is in itself able to tell us much about this subject.52
The Old Testament proclaims the mercy of the Lord by the use of
many terms with related meanings; they are differentiated by
their particular content, but it could be said that they all
converge from different directions on one single fundamental
content, to express its surpassing richness and at the same time
to bring it close to man under different aspects. The Old
Testament encourages people suffering from misfortune,
especially those weighed down by sin - as also the whole of
Israel, which had entered into the covenant with God - to appeal
for mercy, and enables them to count upon it: it reminds them of
His mercy in times of failure and loss of trust. Subsequently,
the Old Testament gives thanks and glory for mercy every time
that mercy is made manifest in the life of the people or in the
lives of individuals.
In this way, mercy is in a certain sense contrasted with God's
justice, and in many cases is shown to be not only more powerful
than that justice but also more profound. Even the Old Testament
teaches that, although justice is an authentic virtue in man,
and in God signifies transcendent perfection nevertheless love
is "greater" than justice: greater in the sense that it is
primary and fundamental. Love, so to speak, conditions justice
and, in the final analysis, justice serves love. The primacy and
superiority of love vis-a-vis justice - this is a mark of the
whole of revelation - are revealed precisely through mercy. This
seemed so obvious to the psalmists and prophets that the very
term justice ended up by meaning the salvation accomplished by
the Lord and His mercy.53 Mercy differs from justice, but is not
in opposition to it, if we admit in the history of man - as the
Old Testament precisely does-the presence of God, who already as
Creator has linked Himself to His creature with a particular
love. Love, by its very nature, excludes hatred and ill - will
towards the one to whom He once gave the gift of Himself: Nihil
odisti eorum quae fecisti, "you hold nothing of what you have
made in abhorrence."54 These words indicate the profound basis
of the relationship between justice and mercy in God, in His
relations with man and the world. They tell us that we must seek
the life-giving roots and intimate reasons for this relationship
by going back to "the beginning," in the very mystery of
creation. They foreshadow in the context of the Old Covenant the
full revelation of God, who is "love."55
Connected with the mystery of creation is the mystery of the
election, which in a special way shaped the history of the
people whose spiritual father is Abraham by virtue of his faith.
Nevertheless, through this people which journeys forward through
the history both of the Old Covenant and of the New, that
mystery of election refers to every man and woman, to the whole
great human family. "I have loved you with an everlasting love,
therefore I have continued my faithfulness to you."56 "For the
mountains may depart...my steadfast love shall not depart from
you, and my covenant of peace shall not be removed."57 This
truth, once proclaimed to Israel, involves a perspective of the
whole history of man, a perspective both temporal and
eschatological.58 Christ reveals the Father within the framework
of the same perspective and on ground already prepared, as many
pages of the Old Testament writings demonstrate. At the end of
this revelation, on the night before He dies, He says to the
apostle Philip these memorable words: "Have I been with you so
long, and yet you do not know me...? He who has seen me has seen
the Father."59
IV. THE PARABLE OF THE PRODIGAL SON
5. An Analogy
At the very beginning of the New Testament, two voices resound
in St. Luke's Gospel in unique harmony concerning the mercy of
God, a harmony which forcefully echoes the whole Old Testament
tradition. They express the semantic elements linked to the
differentiated terminology of the ancient books. Mary, entering
the house of Zechariah, magnifies the Lord with all her soul for
"his mercy," which "from generation to generation" is bestowed
on those who fear Him. A little later, as she recalls the
election of Israel, she proclaims the mercy which He who has
chosen her holds "in remembrance" from all time.60 Afterwards,
in the same house, when John the Baptist is born, his father
Zechariah blesses the God of Israel and glorifies Him for
performing the mercy promised to our fathers and for remembering
His holy covenant.61
In the teaching of Christ Himself, this image inherited from the
Old Testament becomes at the same time simpler and more
profound. This is perhaps most evident in the parable of the
prodigal son.62 Although the word "mercy" does not appear, it
nevertheless expresses the essence of the divine mercy in a
particularly clear way. This is due not so much to the
terminology, as in the Old Testament books, as to the analogy
that enables us to understand more fully the very mystery of
mercy, as a profound drama played out between the father's love
and the prodigality and sin of the son.
That son, who receives from the father the portion of the
inheritance that is due to him and leaves home to squander it in
a far country "in loose living," in a certain sense is the man
of every period, beginning with the one who was the first to
lose the inheritance of grace and original justice. The analogy
at this point is very wide- ranging. The parable indirectly
touches upon every breach of the covenant of love, every loss of
grace, every sin. In this analogy there is less emphasis than in
the prophetic tradition on the unfaithfulness of the whole
people of Israel, although the analogy of the prodigal son may
extend to this also. "When he had spent everything," the son
"began to be in need," especially as "a great famine arose in
that country" to which he had gone after leaving his father's
house. And in this situation "he would gladly have fed on"
anything, even "the pods that the swine ate," the swine that he
herded for "one of the citizens of that country." But even this
was refused him.
The analogy turns clearly towards man's interior. The
inheritance that the son had received from his father was a
quantity of material goods, but more important than these goods
was his dignity as a son in his father's house. The situation in
which he found himself when he lost the material goods should
have made him aware of the loss of that dignity. He had not
thought about it previously, when he had asked his father to
give him the part of the inheritance that was due to him, in
order to go away. He seems not to be conscious of it even now,
when he says to himself: "How many of my father's hired servants
have bread enough and to spare, but I perish here with hunger."
He measures himself by the standard of the goods that he has
lost, that he no longer "possesses," while the hired servants of
his father's house "possess" them. These words express above all
his attitude to material goods; nevertheless under their surface
is concealed the tragedy of lost dignity, the awareness of
squandered sonship.
It is at this point that he makes the decision: "I will arise
and go to my father, and I will say to him, 'Father, I have
sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to
be called your son. Treat me as one of your hired servants.'"63
These are words that reveal more deeply the essential problem.
Through the complex material situation in which the prodigal son
found himself because of his folly, because of sin, the sense of
lost dignity had matured. When he decides to return to his
father's house, to ask his father to be received-no longer by
virtue of his right as a son, but as an employee-at first sight
he seems to be acting by reason of the hunger and poverty that
he had fallen into; this motive, however, is permeated by an
awareness of a deeper loss: to be a hired servant in his own
father's house is certainly a great humiliation and source of
shame. Nevertheless, the prodigal son is ready to undergo that
humiliation and shame. He realizes that he no longer has any
right except to be an employee in his father's house. His
decision is taken in full consciousness of what he has deserved
and of what he can still have a right to in accordance with the
norms of justice. Precisely this reasoning demonstrates that, at
the center of the prodigal son's consciousness, the sense of
lost dignity is emerging, the sense of that dignity that springs
from the relationship of the son with the father. And it is with
this decision that he sets out.
In the parable of the prodigal son, the term "justice" is not
used even once; just as in the original text the term "mercy" is
not used either. Nevertheless, the relationship between justice
and love, that is manifested as mercy, is inscribed with great
exactness in the content of the Gospel parable. It becomes more
evident that love is transformed into mercy when it is necessary
to go beyond the precise norm of justice-precise and often too
narrow. The prodigal son, having wasted the property he received
from his father, deserves - after his return - to earn his
living by working in his father's house as a hired servant and
possibly, little by little, to build up a certain provision of
material goods, though perhaps never as much as the amount he
had squandered. This would be demanded by the order of justice,
especially as the son had not only squandered the part of the
inheritance belonging to him but had also hurt and offended his
father by his whole conduct. Since this conduct had in his own
eyes deprived him of his dignity as a son, it could not be a
matter of indifference to his father. It was bound to make him
suffer. It was also bound to implicate him in some way. And yet,
after all, it was his own son who was involved, and such a
relationship could never be altered or destroyed by any sort of
behavior. The prodigal son is aware of this and it is precisely
this awareness that shows him clearly the dignity which he has
lost and which makes him honestly evaluate the position that he
could still expect in his father's house.
6. Particular Concentration on Human Dignity
This exact picture of the prodigal son's state of mind enables
us to understand exactly what the mercy of God consists in.
There is no doubt that in this simple but penetrating analogy
the figure of the father reveals to us God as Father. The
conduct of the father in the parable and his whole behavior,
which manifests his internal attitude, enables us to rediscover
the individual threads of the Old Testament vision of mercy in a
synthesis which is totally new, full of simplicity and depth.
The father of the prodigal son is faithful to his fatherhood,
faithful to the love that he had always lavished on his son.
This fidelity is expressed in the parable not only by his
immediate readiness to welcome him home when he returns after
having squandered his inheritance; it is expressed even more
fully by that joy, that merrymaking for the squanderer after his
return, merrymaking which is so generous that it provokes the
opposition and hatred of the elder brother, who had never gone
far away from his father and had never abandoned the home.
The father's fidelity to himself - a trait already known by the
Old Testament term hesed - is at the same time expressed in a
manner particularly charged with affection. We read, in fact,
that when the father saw the prodigal son returning home "he had
compassion, ran to meet him, threw his arms around his neck and
kissed him."64 He certainly does this under the influence of a
deep affection, and this also explains his generosity towards
his son, that generosity which so angers the elder son.
Nevertheless, the causes of this emotion are to be sought at a
deeper level. Notice, the father is aware that a fundamental
good has been saved: the good of his son's humanity. Although
the son has squandered the inheritance, nevertheless his
humanity is saved. Indeed, it has been, in a way, found again.
The father's words to the elder son reveal this: "It was fitting
to make merry and be glad, for this your brother was dead and is
alive; he was lost and is found."65 In the same chapter fifteen
of Luke's Gospel, we read the parable of the sheep that was
found66 and then the parable of the coin that was found.67 Each
time there is an emphasis on the same joy that is present in the
case of the prodigal son. The father's fidelity to himself is
totally concentrated upon the humanity of the lost son, upon his
dignity. This explains above all his joyous emotion at the
moment of the son's return home.
Going on, one can therefore say that the love for the son the
love that springs from the very essence of fatherhood, in a way
obliges the father to be concerned about his son's dignity. This
concern is the measure of his love, the love of which Saint Paul
was to write: "Love is patient and kind.. .love does not insist
on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful...but rejoices
in the right...hopes all things, endures all things" and "love
never ends."68 Mercy - as Christ has presented it in the parable
of the prodigal son - has the interior form of the love that in
the New Testament is called agape. This love is able to reach
down to every prodigal son, to every human misery, and above all
to every form of moral misery, to sin. When this happens, the
person who is the object of mercy does not feel humiliated, but
rather found again and "restored to value." The father first and
foremost expresses to him his joy that he has been "found again"
and that he has "returned to life. This joy indicates a good
that has remained intact: even if he is a prodigal, a son does
not cease to be truly his father's son; it also indicates a good
that has been found again, which in the case of the prodigal son
was his return to the truth about himself.
What took place in the relationship between the father and the
son in Christ's parable is not to be evaluated "from the
outside." Our prejudices about mercy are mostly the result of
appraising them only from the outside. At times it happens that
by following this method of evaluation we see in mercy above all
a relationship of inequality between the one offering it and the
one receiving it. And, in consequence, we are quick to deduce
that mercy belittles the receiver, that it offends the dignity
of man. The parable of the prodigal son shows that the reality
is different: the relationship of mercy is based on the common
experience of that good which is man, on the common experience
of the dignity that is proper to him. This common experience
makes the prodigal son begin to see himself and his actions in
their full truth (this vision in truth is a genuine form of
humility); on the other hand, for this very reason he becomes a
particular good for his father: the father sees so clearly the
good which has been achieved thanks to a mysterious radiation of
truth and love, that he seems to forget all the evil which the
son had committed.
The parable of the prodigal son expresses in a simple but
profound way the reality of conversion. Conversion is the most
concrete expression of the working of love and of the presence
of mercy in the human world. The true and proper meaning of
mercy does not consist only in looking, however penetratingly
and compassionately, at moral, physical or material evil: mercy
is manifested in its true and proper aspect when it restores to
value, promotes and draws good from all the forms of evil
existing in the world and in man. Understood in this way, mercy
constitutes the fundamental content of the messianic message of
Christ and the constitutive power of His mission. His disciples
and followers understood and practiced mercy in the same way.
Mercy never ceased to reveal itself, in their hearts and in
their actions, as an especially creative proof of the love which
does not allow itself to be "conquered by evil," but overcomes
"evil with good."69 The genuine face of mercy has to be ever
revealed anew. In spite of many prejudices, mercy seems
particularly necessary for our times.
V. THE PASCHAL MYSTERY
7. Mercy Revealed in the Cross and Resurrection
The messianic message of Christ and His activity among people
end with the cross and resurrection. We have to penetrate deeply
into this final event-which especially in the language of the
Council is defined as the Mysterium Paschale - if we wish to
express in depth the truth about mercy, as it has been revealed
in depth in the history of our salvation. At this point of our
considerations, we shall have to draw closer still to the
content of the encyclical Redemptor hominis. If, in fact, the
reality of the Redemption, in its human dimension, reveals the
unheard - of greatness of man, qui talem ac tantum meruit habere
Redemptorem,70 at the same time the divine dimension of the
redemption enables us, I would say, in the most empirical and
"historical" way, to uncover the depth of that love which does
not recoil before the extraordinary sacrifice of the Son, in
order to satisfy the fidelity of the Creator and Father towards
human beings, created in His image and chosen from "the
beginning," in this Son, for grace and glory.
The events of Good Friday and, even before that, in prayer in
Gethsemane, introduce a fundamental change into the whole course
of the revelation of love and mercy in the messianic mission of
Christ. The one who "went about doing good and healing"71 and
"curing every sickness and disease"72 now Himself seems to merit
the greatest mercy and to appeal for mercy, when He is arrested,
abused, condemned, scourged, crowned with thorns, when He is
nailed to the cross and dies amidst agonizing torments.73 It is
then that He particularly deserves mercy from the people to whom
He has done good, and He does not receive it. Even those who are
closest to Him cannot protect Him and snatch Him from the hands
of His oppressors. At this final stage of His messianic activity
the words which the prophets, especially Isaiah, uttered
concerning the Servant of Yahweh are fulfilled in Christ:
"Through his stripes we are healed."74
Christ, as the man who suffers really and in a terrible way in
the Garden of Olives and on Calvary, addresses Himself to the
Father- that Father whose love He has preached to people, to
whose mercy He has borne witness through all of His activity.
But He is not spared - not even He-the terrible suffering of
death on the cross: For our sake God made him to be sin who knew
no sin,"75 St. Paul will write, summing up in a few words the
whole depth of the cross and at the same time the divine
dimension of the reality of the Redemption. Indeed this
Redemption is the ultimate and definitive revelation of the
holiness of God, who is the absolute fullness of perfection:
fullness of justice and of love, since justice is based on love,
flows from it and tends towards it. In the passion and death of
Christ-in the fact that the Father did not spare His own Son,
but "for our sake made him sin"76 - absolute justice is
expressed, for Christ undergoes the passion and cross because of
the sins of humanity. This constitutes even a "superabundance"
of justice, for the sins of man are "compensated for" by the
sacrifice of the Man-God. Nevertheless, this justice, which is
properly justice "to God's measure," springs completely from
love: from the love of the Father and of the Son, and completely
bears fruit in love. Precisely for this reason the divine
justice revealed in the cross of Christ is "to God's measure,"
because it springs from love and is accomplished in love,
producing fruits of salvation. The divine dimension of
redemption is put into effect not only by bringing justice to
bear upon sin, but also by restoring to love that creative power
in man thanks also which he once more has access to the fullness
of life and holiness that come from God. In this way, redemption
involves the revelation of mercy in its fullness.
The Paschal Mystery is the culmination of this revealing and
effecting of mercy, which is able to justify man, to restore
justice in the sense of that salvific order which God willed
from the beginning in man and, through man, in the world. The
suffering Christ speaks in a special way to man, and not only to
the believer. The non-believer also will be able to discover in
Him the eloquence of solidarity with the human lot, as also the
harmonious fullness of a disinterested dedication to the cause
of man, to truth and to love. And yet the divine dimension of
the Paschal Mystery goes still deeper. The cross on Calvary, the
cross upon which Christ conducts His final dialogue with the
Father, emerges from the very heart of the love that man,
created in the image and likeness of God, has been given as a
gift, according to God's eternal plan. God, as Christ has
revealed Him, does not merely remain closely linked with the
world as the Creator and the ultimate source of existence. He is
also Father: He is linked to man, whom He called to existence in
the visible world, by a bond still more intimate than that of
creation. It is love which not only creates the good but also
grants participation in the very life of God: Father, Son and
Holy Spirit. For he who loves desires to give himself.
The cross of Christ on Calvary stands beside the path of that
admirable commercium, of that wonderful self-communication of
God to man, which also includes the call to man to share in the
divine life by giving himself, and with himself the whole
visible world, to God, and like an adopted son to become a
sharer in the truth and love which is in God and proceeds from
God. It is precisely beside the path of man's eternal election
to the dignity of being an adopted child of God that there
stands in history the cross of Christ, the only - begotten Son,
who, as "light from light, true God from true God,"77 came to
give the final witness to the wonderful covenant of God with
humanity, of God with man - every human being This covenant, as
old as man - it goes back to the very mystery of creation - and
afterwards many times renewed with one single chosen people, is
equally the new and definitive covenant, which was established
there on Calvary, and is not limited to a single people, to
Israel, but is open to each and every individual.
What else, then, does the cross of Christ say to us, the cross
that in a sense is the final word of His messianic message and
mission? And yet this is not yet the word of the God of the
covenant: that will be pronounced at the dawn when first the
women and then the Apostles come to the tomb of the crucified
Christ, see the tomb empty and for the first time hear the
message: "He is risen." They will repeat this message to the
others and will be witnesses to the risen Christ. Yet, even in
this glorification of the Son of God, the cross remains, that
cross which-through all the messianic testimony of the Man the
Son, who suffered death upon it - speaks and never ceases to
speak of God the Father, who is absolutely faithful to His
eternal love for man, since He "so loved the world" - therefore
man in the world-that "he gave his only Son, that whoever
believes in him should not perish but have eternal life."78
Believing in the crucified Son means "seeing the Father,"79
means believing that love is present in the world and that this
love is more powerful than any kind of evil in which
individuals, humanity, or the world are involved. Believing in
this love means believing in mercy. For mercy is an
indispensable dimension of love; it is as it were love's second
name and, at the same time, the specific manner in which love is
revealed and effected vis-a-vis the reality of the evil that is
in the world, affecting and besieging man, insinuating itself
even into his heart and capable of causing him to "perish in
Gehenna."80
8. Love More Powerful Than Death, More Powerful Than Sin
The cross of Christ on Calvary is also a witness to the strength
of evil against the very Son of God, against the one who, alone
among all the sons of men, was by His nature absolutely innocent
and free from sin, and whose coming into the world was untainted
by the disobedience of Adam and the inheritance of original sin.
And here, precisely in Him, in Christ, justice is done to sin at
the price of His sacrifice, of His obedience "even to death."81
He who was without sin, "God made him sin for our sake."82
Justice is also brought to bear upon death, which from the
beginning of man's history had been allied to sin. Death has
justice done to it at the price of the death of the one who was
without sin and who alone was able-by means of his own death-to
inflict death upon death.83 In this way the cross of Christ, on
which the Son, consubstantial with the Father, renders full
justice to God, is also a radical revelation of mercy, or rather
of the love that goes against what constitutes the very root of
evil in the history of man: against sin and death.
The cross is the most profound condescension of God to man and
to what man-especially in difficult and painful moments-looks on
as his unhappy destiny. The cross is like a touch of eternal
love upon the most painful wounds of man's earthly existence; it
is the total fulfillment of the messianic program that Christ
once formulated in the synagogue at Nazareth 84 and then
repeated to the messengers sent by John the Baptist.85 According
to the words once written in the prophecy of Isaiah,86 this
program consisted in the revelation of merciful love for the
poor, the suffering and prisoners, for the blind, the oppressed
and sinners. In the paschal mystery the limits of the many sided
evil in which man becomes a sharer during his earthly existence
are surpassed: the cross of Christ, in fact, makes us understand
the deepest roots of evil, which are fixed in sin and death;
thus the cross becomes an eschatological sign. Only in the
eschatological fulfillment and definitive renewal of the world
will love conquer, in all the elect, the deepest sources of
evil, bringing as its fully mature fruit the kingdom of life and
holiness and glorious immortality. The foundation of this
eschatological fulfillment is already contained in the cross of
Christ and in His death. The fact that Christ "was raised the
third day"87 constitutes the final sign of the messianic
mission, a sign that perfects the entire revelation of merciful
love in a world that is subject to evil. At the same time it
constitutes the sign that foretells "a new heaven and a new
earth,"88 when God "will wipe away every tear from their eyes,
there will be no more death, or mourning no crying, nor pain,
for the former things have passed away."89
In the eschatological fulfillment mercy will be revealed as
love, while in the temporal phase, in human history, which is at
the same time the history of sin and death, love must be
revealed above all as mercy and must also be actualized as
mercy. Christ's messianic program, the program of mercy, becomes
the program of His people, the program of the Church. At its
very center there is always the cross, for it is in the cross
that the revelation of merciful love attains its culmination.
Until "the former things pass away,"90 the cross will remain the
point of reference for other words too of the Revelation of
John: "Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears my
voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him and he
with me."91 In a special way, God also reveals His mercy when He
invites man to have "mercy" on His only Son, the crucified one.
Christ, precisely as the crucified one, is the Word that does
not pass away,92 and He is the one who stands at the door and
knocks at the heart of every man,93 without restricting his
freedom, but instead seeking to draw from this very freedom
love, which is not only an act of solidarity with the suffering
Son of man, but also a kind of "mercy" shown by each one of us
to the Son of the eternal Father. In the whole of this messianic
program of Christ, in the whole revelation of mercy through the
cross, could man's dignity be more highly respected and
ennobled, for, in obtaining mercy, He is in a sense the one who
at the same time "shows mercy"? In a word, is not this the
position of Christ with regard to man when He says: "As you did
it to one of the least of these...you did it to me"?94 Do not
the words of the Sermon on the Mount: "Blessed are the merciful,
for they shall obtain mercy,"95 constitute, in a certain sense,
a synthesis of the whole of the Good News, of the whole of the
"wonderful exchange" (admirable commercium) contained therein?
This exchange is a law of the very plan of salvation, a law
which is simple, strong and at the same time "easy."
Demonstrating from the very start what the "human heart" is
capable of ("to be merciful"), do not these words from the
Sermon on the Mount reveal in the same perspective the deep
mystery of God: that inscrutable unity of Father, Son and Holy
Spirit, in which love, containing justice, sets in motion mercy,
which in its turn reveals the perfection of justice?
The Paschal Mystery is Christ at the summit of the revelation of
the inscrutable mystery of God. It is precisely then that the
words pronounced in the Upper Room are completely fulfilled: "He
who has seen me has seen the Father."96 In fact, Christ, whom
the Father "did not spare"97 for the sake of man and who in His
passion and in the torment of the cross did not obtain human
mercy, has revealed in His resurrection the fullness of the love
that the Father has for Him and, in Him, for all people. "He is
not God of the dead, but of the living."98 In His resurrection
Christ has revealed the God of merciful love, precisely because
He accepted the cross as the way to the resurrection. And it is
for this reason that-when we recall the cross of Christ, His
passion and death-our faith and hope are centered on the Risen
One: on that Christ who "on the evening of that day, the first
day of the week, . . .stood among them" in the upper Room,
"where the disciples were, ...breathed on them, and said to
them: 'Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any,
they are forgiven; if you retain the sins of any, they are
retained.'"99
Here is the Son of God, who in His resurrection experienced in a
radical way mercy shown to Himself, that is to say the love of
the Father which is more powerful than death. And it is also the
same Christ, the Son of God, who at the end of His messianic
mission - and, in a certain sense, even beyond the end - reveals
Himself as the inexhaustible source of mercy, of the same love
that, in a subsequent perspective of the history of salvation in
the Church, is to be everlastingly confirmed as more powerful
than sin. The paschal Christ is the definitive incarnation of
mercy, its living sign in salvation history and in eschatology.
In the same spirit, the liturgy of Eastertide places on our lips
the words of the Psalm: Misericordias Domini in aeternum
cantabo.100
9. Mother of Mercy
These words of the Church at Easter re-echo in the fullness of
their prophetic content the words that Mary uttered during her
visit to Elizabeth, the wife of Zechariah: "His mercy is...from
generation to generation."101 At the very moment of the
Incarnation, these words open up a new perspective of salvation
history. After the resurrection of Christ, this perspective is
new on both the historical and the eschatological level. From
that time onwards there is a succession of new generations of
individuals in the immense human family, in ever-increasing
dimensions; there is also a succession of new generations of the
People of God, marked with the Sign of the Cross and of the
resurrection and "sealed"102 with the sign of the Paschal
Mystery of Christ, the absolute revelation of the mercy that
Mary proclaimed on the threshold of her kinswoman's house: "His
mercy is...from generation to generation."103
Mary is also the one who obtained mercy in a particular and
exceptional way, as no other person has. At the same time, still
in an exceptional way, she made possible with the sacrifice of
her heart her own sharing in revealing God's mercy. This
sacrifice is intimately linked with the cross of her Son, at the
foot of which she was to stand on Calvary. Her sacrifice is a
unique sharing in the revelation of mercy, that is, a sharing in
the absolute fidelity of God to His own love, to the covenant
that He willed from eternity and that He entered into in time
with man, with the people, with humanity; it is a sharing in
that revelation that was definitively fulfilled through the
cross. No one has experienced, to the same degree as the Mother
of the crucified One, the mystery of the cross, the overwhelming
encounter of divine transcendent justice with love: that "kiss"
given by mercy to justice.104 No one has received into his
heart, as much as Mary did, that mystery, that truly divine
dimension of the redemption effected on Calvary by means of the
death of the Son, together with the sacrifice of her maternal
heart, together with her definitive "fiat."
Mary, then, is the one who has the deepest knowledge of the
mystery of God's mercy. She knows its price, she knows how great
it is. In this sense, we call her the Mother of mercy: our Lady
of mercy, or Mother of divine mercy; in each one of these titles
there is a deep theological meaning, for they express the
special preparation of her soul, of her whole personality, so
that she was able to perceive, through the complex events, first
of Israel, then of every individual and of the whole of
humanity, that mercy of which "from generation to generation"105
people become sharers according to the eternal design of the
most Holy Trinity.
The above titles which we attribute to the Mother of God speak
of her principally, however, as the Mother of the crucified and
risen One; as the One who, having obtained mercy in an
exceptional way, in an equally exceptional way "merits" that
mercy throughout her earthly life and, particularly, at the foot
of the cross of her Son; and finally as the one who, through her
hidden and at the same time incomparable sharing in the
messianic mission of her Son, was called in a special way to
bring close to people that love which He had come to reveal: the
love that finds its most concrete expression vis-a-vis the
suffering, the poor, those deprived of their own freedom, the
blind, the oppressed and sinners, just as Christ spoke of them
in the words of the prophecy of Isaiah, first in the synagogue
at Nazareth106 and then in response to the question of the
messengers of John the Baptist.107
It was precisely this "merciful" love, which is manifested above
all in contact with moral and physical evil, that the heart of
her who was the Mother of the crucified and risen One shared in
singularly and exceptionally - that Mary shared in. In her and
through her, this love continues to be revealed in the history
of the Church and of humanity. This revelation is especially
fruitful because in the Mother of God it is based upon the
unique tact of her maternal heart, on her particular
sensitivity, on her particular fitness to reach all those who
most easily accept the merciful love of a mother. This is one of
the great life-giving mysteries of Christianity, a mystery
intimately connected with the mystery of the Incarnation.
"The motherhood of Mary in the order of grace," as the Second
Vatican Council explains, "lasts without interruption from the
consent which she faithfully gave at the annunciation and which
she sustained without hesitation under the cross, until the
eternal fulfillment of all the elect. In fact, being assumed
into heaven she has not laid aside this office of salvation but
by her manifold intercession she continues to obtain for us the
graces of eternal salvation. By her maternal charity, she takes
care of the brethren of her Son who still journey on earth
surrounded by dangers and difficulties, until they are led into
their blessed home."108
VI. "MERCY...FROM GENERATION TO GENERATION"
10. An Image of Our Generation
We have every right to believe that our generation too was
included in the words of the Mother of God when she glorified
that mercy shared in "from generation to generation" by those
who allow themselves to be guided by the fear of God. The words
of Mary's Magnificat have a prophetic content that concerns not
only the past of Israel but also the whole future of the People
of God on earth. In fact, all of us now living on earth are the
generation that is aware of the approach of the third millennium
and that profoundly feels the change that is occurring in
history.
The present generation knows that it is in a privileged
position: progress provides it with countless possibilities that
only a few decades ago were undreamed of. Man's creative
activity, his intelligence and his work, have brought about
profound changes both in the field of science and technology and
in that of social and cultural life. Man has extended his power
over nature and has acquired deeper knowledge of the laws of
social behavior. He has seen the obstacles and distances between
individuals and nations dissolve or shrink through an increased
sense of what is universal, through a clearer awareness of the
unity of the human race, through the acceptance of mutual
dependence in authentic solidarity, and through the desire and
possibility of making contact with one's brothers and sisters
beyond artificial geographical divisions and national or racial
limits. Today's young people, especially, know that the progress
of science and technology can produce not only new material
goods but also a wider sharing in knowledge. The extraordinary
progress made in the field of information and data processing,
for instance, will increase man's creative capacity and provide
access to the intellectual and cultural riches of other peoples.
New communications techniques will encourage greater
participation in events and a wider exchange of ideas. The
achievements of biological, psychological and social science
will help man to understand better the riches of his own being.
It is true that too often this progress is still the privilege
of the industrialized countries, but it cannot be denied that
the prospect of enabling every people and every country to
benefit from it has long ceased to be a mere utopia when there
is a real political desire for it.
But side by side with all this, or rather as part of it, there
are also the difficulties that appear whenever there is growth.
There is unease and a sense of powerlessness regarding the
profound response that man knows that he must give. The picture
of the world today also contains shadows and imbalances that are
not always merely superficial. The Pastoral Constitution Gaudium
et spes of the Second Vatican Council is certainly not the only
document that deals with the life of this generation, but it is
a document of particular importance. "The dichotomy affecting
the modern world," we read in it, "is,,in fact, a symptom of a
deeper dichotomy that is in man himself. He is the meeting point
of many conflicting forces. In his condition as a created being
he is subject to a thousand shortcomings, but feels untrammelled
in his inclinations and destined for a higher form of life. Torn
by a welter of anxieties he is compelled to choose between them
and repudiate some among them. Worse still, feeble and sinful as
he is, he often does the very thing he hates and does not do
what he wants. And so he feels himself divided, and the result
is a host of discords in social life."109
Towards the end of the introductory exposition we read: ". . .in
the face of modern developments there is a growing body of men
who are asking the most fundamental of all questions or are
glimpsing them with a keener insight: What is man? What is the
meaning of suffering, evil, death, which have not been
eliminated by all this progress? What is the purpose of these
achievements, purchased at so high a price?"110
In the span of the fifteen years since the end of the Second
Vatican Council, has this picture of tensions and threats that
mark our epoch become less disquieting? It seems not. On the
contrary, the tensions and threats that in the Council document
seem only to be outlined and not to manifest in depth all the
dangers hidden within them have revealed themselves more clearly
in the space of these years; they have in a different way
confirmed that danger, and do not permit us to cherish the
illusions of the past.
11. Sources of Uneasiness
Thus, in our world the feeling of being under threat is
increasing. There is an increase of that existential fear
connected especially, as I said in the encyclical Redemptor
hominis, with the prospect of a conflict that in view of today's
atomic stockpiles could mean the partial self-destruction of
humanity. But the threat does not merely concern what human
beings can do to human beings through the means provided by
military technology; it also concerns many other dangers
produced by a materialistic society which-in spite of
"humanistic" declarations-accepts the primacy of things over
persons. Contemporary man, therefore, fears that by the use of
the means invented by this type of society, individuals and the
environment, communities, societies and nations can fall victim
to the abuse of power by other individuals, environments and
societies. The history of our century offers many examples of
this. In spite of all the declarations on the rights of man in
his integral dimension, that is to say in his bodily and
spiritual existence, we cannot say that these examples belong
only to the past.
Man rightly fears falling victim to an oppression that will
deprive him of his interior freedom, of the possibility of
expressing the truth of which he is convinced, of the faith that
he professes, of the ability to obey the voice of conscience
that tells him the right path to follow. The technical means at
the disposal of modern society conceal within themselves not
only the possibility of self-destruction through military
conflict, but also the possibility of a "peaceful" subjugation
of individuals, of environments, of entire societies and of
nations, that for one reason or another might prove inconvenient
for those who possess the necessary means and are ready to use
them without scruple. An instance is the continued existence of
torture, systematically used by authority as a means of
domination and political oppression and practiced by
subordinates with impunity.
Together with awareness of the biological threat, therefore,
there is a growing awareness of yet another threat, even more
destructive of what is essentially human, what is intimately
bound up with the dignity of the person and his or her right to
truth and freedom.
All this is happening against the background of the gigantic
remorse caused by the fact that, side by side with wealthy and
surfeited people and societies, living in plenty and ruled by
consumerism and pleasure, the same human family contains
individuals and groups that are suffering from hunger. There are
babies dying of hunger under their mothers' eyes. In various
parts of the world, in various socio-economic systems, there
exist entire areas of poverty, shortage and underdevelopment.
This fact is universally known. The state of inequality between
individuals and between nations not only still exists; it is
increasing. It still happens that side by side with those who
are wealthy and living in plenty there exist those who are
living in want, suffering misery and often actually dying of
hunger; and their number reaches tens, even hundreds of
millions. This is why moral uneasiness is destined to become
even more acute. It is obvious that a fundamental defect, or
rather a series of defects, indeed a defective machinery is at
the root of contemporary economics and materialistic
civilization, which does not allow the human family to break
free from such radically unjust situations.
This picture of today's world in which there is so much evil
both physical and moral, so as to make of it a world entangled
in contradictions and tensions, and at the same time full of
threats to human freedom, conscience and religion-this picture
explains the uneasiness felt by contemporary man. This
uneasiness is experienced not only by those who are
disadvantaged or oppressed, but also by those who possess the
privileges of wealth, progress and power. And, although there is
no lack of people trying to understand the causes of this
uneasiness, or trying to react against it with the temporary
means offered by technology, wealth or power, still in the very
depth of the human spirit this uneasiness is stronger than all
temporary means. This uneasiness concerns-as the analyses of the
Second Vatican Council rightly pointed out-the fundamental
problems of all human existence. It is linked with the very
sense of man's existence in the world, and is an uneasiness for
the future of man and all humanity; it demands decisive
solutions, which now seem to be forcing themselves upon the
human race.
12. Is Justice Enough?
It is not difficult to see that in the modern world the sense of
justice has been reawakening on a vast scale; and without doubt
this emphasizes that which goes against justice in relationships
between individuals, social groups and "classes," between
individual peoples and states, and finally between whole
political systems, indeed between what are called "worlds." This
deep and varied trend, at the basis of which the contemporary
human conscience has placed justice, gives proof of the ethical
character of the tensions and struggles pervading the world.
The Church shares with the people of our time this profound and
ardent desire for a life which is just in every aspect, nor does
she fail to examine the various aspects of the sort of justice
that the life of people and society demands. This is confirmed
by the field of Catholic social doctrine, greatly developed in
the course of the last century. On the lines of this teaching
proceed the education and formation of human consciences in the
spirit of justice, and also individual undertakings, especially
in the sphere of the apostolate of the laity, which are
developing in precisely this spirit.
And yet, it would be difficult not to notice that very often
programs which start from the idea of justice and which ought to
assist its fulfillment among individuals, groups and human
societies, in practice suffer from distortions. Although they
continue to appeal to the idea of justice, nevertheless
experience shows that other negative forces have gained the
upper hand over justice, such as spite, hatred and even cruelty.
In such cases, the desire to annihilate the enemy, limit his
freedom, or even force him into total dependence, becomes the
fundamental motive for action; and this contrasts with the
essence of justice, which by its nature tends to establish
equality and harmony between the parties in conflict. This kind
of abuse of the idea of justice and the practical distortion of
it show how far human action can deviate from justice itself,
even when it is being undertaken in the name of justice. Not in
vain did Christ challenge His listeners, faithful to the
doctrine of the Old Testament, for their attitude which was
manifested in the words: An eye for an eye and a tooth for a
tooth."111 This was the form of distortion of justice at that
time; and today's forms continue to be modeled on it. It is
obvious, in fact, that in the name of an alleged justice (for
example, historical justice or class justice) the neighbor is
sometimes destroyed, killed, deprived of liberty or stripped of
fundamental human rights. The experience of the past and of our
own time demonstrates that justice alone is not enough, that it
can even lead to the negation and destruction of itself, if that
deeper power, which is love, is not allowed to shape human life
in its various dimensions. It has been precisely historical
experience that, among other things, has led to the formulation
of the saying: summum ius, summa iniuria. This statement does
not detract from the value of justice and does not minimize the
significance of the order that is based upon it; it only
indicates, under another aspect, the need to draw from the
powers of the spirit which condition the very order of justice,
powers which are still more profound.
The Church, having before her eyes the picture of the generation
to which we belong, shares the uneasiness of so many of the
people of our time. Moreover, one cannot fail to be worried by
the decline of many fundamental values, which constitute an
unquestionable good not only for Christian morality but simply
for human morality, for moral culture: these values include
respect for human life from the moment of conception, respect
for marriage in its indissoluble unity, and respect for the
stability of the family. Moral permissiveness strikes especially
at this most sensitive sphere of life and society. Hand in hand
with this go the crisis of truth in human relationships, lack of
responsibility for what one says, the purely utilitarian
relationship between individual and individual, the loss of a
sense of the authentic common good and the ease with which this
good is alienated. Finally, there is the "desacralization" that
often turns into "dehumanization": the individual and the
society for whom nothing is "sacred" suffer moral decay, in
spite of appearances.
Continue to
PART II
This page is the work of the Servants of the Pierced Hearts of Jesus and
Mary
Copyright © 2006 SCTJM
