Pope Benedict XVI- Addresses |
Question and Answer Session with Diocesan Priests, Deacons and
Seminarians
H.H. Benedict XVI
Diocese of Bolzano-Bressanone
August 6, 2008
1. Michael Horrer, Seminarian: Holy Father, my name
is Michael Horrer and I am a seminarian. On the occasion of the
XXIII World Youth Day of Sydney, in Australia, in which I took
part with other young people of our diocese, you constantly
reaffirmed to the 400,000 youth present the importance of the
work of the Holy Spirit in us young people and in the Church.
The theme of the Day was: "You will receive power when the Holy
Spirit has come upon you and you will be my witnesses" (Acts 1:
8).
We young people have now returned -- strengthened by the Holy
Spirit and by his words - to our homes, our dioceses and our
daily lives.
Holy Father, how can we live the gifts of the Holy Spirit in
practice, here in our country and in our daily lives, in such a
way that our relatives, friends and acquaintances feel and
experience his power, and how can we exercise our mission as
Christ's witnesses? What can you advise us in order to ensure
that our diocese stays young, despite the aging of the clergy,
so that it also stays open to the Spirit of God who guides the
Church?
Pope Benedict XVI: Thank you for your question. I
am glad to see a seminarian, a candidate for the priesthood of
this diocese, in whose face, in a certain sense, I can
rediscover the young face of the diocese. And I am glad to hear
that, together with others, you were in Sydney where at a great
celebration of faith we experienced together precisely that the
Church is young.
For Australians too, it was an important experience. At first
they looked at this World Youth Day with great skepticism
because it would obviously cause a lot of bother and many
inconveniences to daily life, such as traffic jams, etc.
However, in the end -- as we also saw in the media whose
prejudices crumbled, bit by bit -- everyone felt involved in
this atmosphere of joy and faith; they saw that young people
come and do not create problems of security or of any other kind
but can be together joyfully.
They saw that faith today is a force that is present, a force
that can give people the right orientation. This is why there
was a moment in which we truly felt the breath of the Holy
Spirit who sweeps away prejudices, who makes people understand
that yes, here we find what closely affects us, this is the
direction in which we must go; and in this way we can live, in
this way the future unfolds.
You rightly said this was a strong moment of which we would take
home with us a little spark. In daily life however, it is far
more difficult in practice to perceive the action of the Holy
Spirit, or even to be personally a means to enable him to be
present, to ensure the presence of that breath which sweeps away
the prejudices of time, which creates light in the darkness and
makes us feel not only that faith has a future but that it is
the future.
How can we do this? We cannot of course do it on our own. In the
end, it is the Lord who helps us but we must be available as
instruments. I would say simply: no one can give what he does
not personally possess; in other words we cannot pass on the
Holy Spirit effectively or make him perceptible to others unless
we ourselves are close to him.
This is why I think that the most important thing is that we
ourselves remain, so to speak, within the radius of the Holy
Spirit's breath, in contact with him. Only if we are continually
touched within by the Holy Spirit, if he dwells in us, will it
be possible for us to pass him on to others.
Then he gives us the imagination and creative ideas about how to
act, ideas that cannot be planned but are born from the
situation itself, because it is there that the Holy Spirit is at
work. Thus, the first point: we ourselves must remain within the
radius of the Holy Spirit's breath.
John's Gospel tell us that after the Resurrection the Lord went
to his disciples, breathed upon them and said: "Receive the Holy
Spirit." This is a parallel to Genesis, where God breathes on
the mixture he made with the dust from the earth and it comes to
life and becomes man.
Then man, who is inwardly darkened and half dead, receives
Christ's breath anew and it is this breath of God that gives his
life a new dimension, that gives him life with the Holy Spirit.
We can say, therefore, that the Holy Spirit is the breath of
Jesus Christ and we, in a certain sense, must ask Christ to
breathe on us always, so that his breath will become alive and
strong and work upon the world. This means that we must keep
close to Christ.
We do so by meditating on his Word. We know that the principal
author of the sacred Scriptures is the Holy Spirit. When through
his Word we speak with God, when we do not only seek the past in
it but truly the Lord who is present and speaks to us, then --
as I said in Australia -- it is as if we were to find ourselves
strolling in the garden of the Holy Spirit; we talk to him and
he talks to us.
Here, learning to be at home in this environment, in the
environment of the Word of God, is a very important thing which,
in a certain sense, introduces us into the breath of God. And
then, naturally, this listening, walking in the environment of
the Word must be transformed into a response, a response in
prayer, in contact with Christ.
And of course, first of all in the blessed sacrament of the
Eucharist in which he comes to us and enters us and is, as it
were, amalgamated with us. Then, however, also in the sacrament
of penance, which always purifies us, which washes away the
grime that daily life deposits in us.
In short, it is a life with Christ in the Holy Spirit, in the
Word of God and in the communion of the Church, in her
community. St Augustine said: "If you desire the Spirit of God,
you must be in the Body of Christ." Christ's Spirit moves within
the Mystical Body of Christ.
All this must determine the shape that our day takes in such a
way that it becomes structured, a day in which God has access to
us all the time, in which we are in continuous contact with
Christ and in which, for this very reason, we are continuously
receiving the breath of the Holy Spirit.
If we do this, if we are not too lazy, undisciplined or
sluggish, then something happens to us: the day acquires a form
and in it our life itself acquires a form and this light will
shine from us without us having to give it much thought or
having to adopt a "propagandist" -- so to speak -- way of
acting: It comes automatically because it mirrors our soul. To
this I would then add a second dimension that is logically
linked with the first: If we live with Christ we will also
succeed in human things.
Indeed, faith does not only involve a supernatural aspect, it
rebuilds man, bringing him back to his humanity, as that
parallel between Genesis and John 20 shows: It is based
precisely on the natural virtues: honesty, joy, the willingness
to listen to one's neighbor, the ability to forgive, generosity,
goodness and cordiality among people.
These human virtues show that faith is truly present, that we
are truly with Christ and I believe that we should pay great
attention to this, also regarding ourselves: To develop an
authentic humanity in ourselves because faith involves the
complete fulfillment of the human being, of humanity.
We should pay attention to carrying out human tasks well and
correctly, also in our profession, in respect for our neighbor,
in being concerned about our neighbor, which is the best way to
be concerned about ourselves: In fact, "existing" for our
neighbor is the best way of "existing" for ourselves.
And the latter subsequently gives rise to those initiatives that
cannot be programmed: communities of prayer, communities that
read the Bible together or that even provide effective help for
people in need, who require it, who are on the margins of life,
for the sick, for the disabled and many other things. This is
when our eyes are opened to see our personal skills, to assume
the corresponding initiatives and to be able to imbue others
with the courage to do the same. And precisely these human
things can strengthen us, in a certain way putting us in touch
anew with God's Spirit.
The head of the Order of the Knights of Malta in Rome told me
that at Christmas he went to the station with several young
people to take a bit of Christmas to the homeless. While he
himself was turning back, he heard one young man telling
another: "This is more powerful than the discothèque. It is
really beautiful here because I can do something for others!"
These are the initiatives that the Holy Spirit inspires in us.
With few words they enable us to feel the Spirit's power and we
are made attentive to Christ.
Well, perhaps I have not said very practical things just now,
but I believe the most important thing is, first of all, that
our life should be oriented to the Holy Spirit, because we live
in the milieu of the Spirit, in the body of Christ, and from
this we experience humanization, we nurture the simple human
virtues and thus learn to be good in the broadest sense of the
word. Thus, one acquires a sensitivity for good initiatives
which later, of course, develop a missionary force and in a
certain sense prepare the ground for the moment when it becomes
reasonable and comprehensible to speak of Christ and of our
faith.
2. Father
Willibald Hopfgartner, OFM: Holy Father, my name is
Willibald Hopfgartner, I am a Franciscan and I work in a school
and in various areas of guidance of my order. In your discourse
at Regensburg you stressed the substantial link between the
divine Spirit and human reason.
On the other hand, you also always underlined the importance of
art and beauty, of aesthetics. Consequently, should not the
aesthetic experience of faith in the context of the Church, for
proclamation and for the liturgy be ceaselessly reaffirmed
alongside the conceptual dialogue about God (in theology)?
Pope Benedict XVI: Thank you. Yes, I think these two
things go hand in hand: reason, precision, honesty in the
reflection on the truth -- and beauty. Reason that intended to
strip itself of beauty would be halved, it would be a blinded
reason. It is only when they are united that both these things
form the whole, and precisely for faith this union is important.
Faith must continuously face the challenges of thought in this
epoch, so that it does not seem a sort of irrational legend that
we keep alive but which really is a response to the great
questions, and not merely a habit but the truth -- as Tertullian
once said.
In his First Letter, St. Peter wrote the phrase that medieval
theologians took as a legitimation, as it were, a responsibility
for their theological task: "Always be prepared to make a
defense to any one who calls you to account for the hope that is
in you" -- an apologetic for the logos of hope, that is, a
transformation of the logos, the reason for hope in apologetics,
in response to men.
He was obviously convinced of the fact that the faith was the
logos, that it was a reason, a light that came from creative
Reason rather than a wonderful concoction, a fruit of our
thought. And this is why it is universal and for this reason can
be communicated to all.
Yet, precisely this creative logos is not only a technical logos
-- we shall return to this aspect with another answer -- it is
broad, it is a logos that is love, hence such as to be expressed
in beauty and in good.
Also, I did once say that to me art and the saints are the
greatest apologetic for our faith. The arguments contributed by
reason are unquestionably important and indispensable, but then
there is always dissent somewhere.
On the other hand, if we look at the saints, this great luminous
trail on which God passed through history, we see that there
truly is a force of good which resists the millennia; there
truly is the light of light. Likewise, if we contemplate the
beauties created by faith, they are simply, I would say, the
living proof of faith.
If I look at this beautiful cathedral -- it is a living
proclamation! It speaks to us itself, and on the basis of the
cathedral's beauty, we succeed in visibly proclaiming God,
Christ and all his mysteries: Here they have acquired a form and
look at us.
All the great works of art, cathedrals -- the Gothic cathedrals
and the splendid Baroque churches -- they are all a luminous
sign of God and therefore truly a manifestation, an epiphany of
God. And in Christianity it is precisely a matter of this
epiphany: that God became a veiled Epiphany -- he appears and is
resplendent.
We have just heard the organ in its full splendor. I think the
great music born in the Church makes the truth of our faith
audible and perceivable: from Gregorian chant to the music of
the cathedrals, to Palestrina and his epoch, to Bach and hence
to Mozart and Bruckner and so forth. In listening to all these
works -- the Passions of Bach, his Mass in B flat, and the great
spiritual compositions of 16th-century polyphony, of the
Viennese School, of all music, even that of minor composers --
we suddenly understand: It is true!
Wherever such things are born, the Truth is there. Without an
intuition that discovers the true creative center of the world
such beauty cannot be born.
For this reason I think we should always ensure that the two
things are together; we should bring them together.
When, in our epoch, we discuss the reasonableness of faith, we
discuss precisely the fact that reason does not end where
experimental discoveries end -- it does not finish in
positivism; the theory of evolution sees the truth but sees only
half the truth: It does not see that behind it is the Spirit of
the creation. We are fighting to expand reason, and hence for a
reason, which, precisely, is also open to the beautiful and does
not have to set it aside as something quite different and
unreasonable.
Christian art is a rational art -- let us think of Gothic art or
of the great music or even, precisely, of our own Baroque art --
but it is the artistic expression of a greatly expanded reason,
in which heart and reason encounter each other. This is the
point. I believe that in a certain way this is proof of the
truth of Christianity: Heart and reason encounter one another,
beauty and truth converge, and the more that we ourselves
succeed in living in the beauty of truth, the more that faith
will be able to return to being creative in our time too, and to
express itself in a convincing form of art.
So, dear Father Hopfgartner, thank you for your question; let us
seek to ensure that the two categories, the aesthetic and the
noetic (intellectual), are united and that in this great breadth
the entirety and depth of our faith may be made manifest.
3. Father Willi Fusaro: Holy Father, I am Father
Willi Fusaro, I am 42 years old and I have been ill since the
year of my priestly ordination. I was ordained in June 1991;
then in September of the same year I was diagnosed with multiple
sclerosis. I am a parish cooperator at Corpus Domini Parish,
Bolzano. I was deeply impressed by John Paul II, especially in
the last part of his pontificate, when he bore his human
weakness with courage and humility before the whole world.
Given your closeness to your beloved predecessor and on the
basis of your personal experience, what can you say to me and to
all of us to truly help elderly or sick priests to live their
priesthood well and fruitfully in the presbyterate and in the
Christian community? Thank you!
Pope Benedict XVI: Thank you, Reverend Father. I would
say that, for me, both parts of the Pope John Paul II's
pontificate were equally important. In the first part in which
we saw him as a giant of faith: with incredible courage,
extraordinary force, a true joy of faith and great lucidity, he
took the Gospel message to the ends of the earth.
He spoke to everyone, he explored new paths with the movements,
interreligious dialogue, ecumenical meetings, deepening the
manner in which we listen to the divine word, with everything
... with his love for the sacred liturgy. He truly brought down
-- we can say -- not the walls of Jericho but the walls between
two worlds with the power of his own faith. His testimony lives
on, unforgettable, and continues to be a light for this
millennium.
However, I must say that because of the humble testimony of his
"passion," to my mind the last years of his pontificate were no
less important; just as he carried the Lord's cross before us
and put into practice the words of the Lord: "Follow me, carry
the cross with me and walk in my footsteps!"
With such humility, such patience with which he accepted what
was practically the destruction of his body and the growing
inability to speak, he who had been a master of words thus
showed us visibly -- it seems to me -- the profound truth that
the Lord redeemed us with his cross, with the passion, as an
extreme act of his love. He showed us that suffering is not only
a "no," something negative, the lack of something, but a
positive reality. He showed us that suffering accepted for love
of Christ, for love of God and of others is a redeeming force, a
force of love and no less powerful than the great deeds he
accomplished in the first part of his pontificate.
He taught us a new love for those who suffer and made us
understand the meaning of "in the cross and through the cross we
are saved."
We also have these two aspects in the life of the Lord. In the
first part he teaches the joy of the Kingdom of God, brings his
gifts to men and then, in the second part, he is immersed in the
Passion until his last cry from the cross. In this very way he
taught us who God is, that God is love and that, in identifying
with our suffering as human beings, he takes us in his arms and
immerses us in his love and this love alone bathes us in
redemption, purification and rebirth.
Therefore, I think that we all -- and increasingly so in a world
that thrives on activism, on youth, on being young, strong and
beautiful, on succeeding in doing great things -- must learn the
truth of love which becomes a "passion" and thereby redeems man
and unites him with God who is love.
So I would like to thank all who accept suffering, who suffer
with the Lord, and to encourage all of us to have an open heart
for the suffering and for the elderly; to understand that their
"passion" is itself a source of renewal for humanity, creating
love in us and uniting us to the Lord. Yet, in the end, it is
always difficult to suffer. I remember Cardinal Mayer's sister.
She was seriously ill and when she became impatient he said to
her: "You see, now you are with the Lord." And she answered him:
"It is easy for you to say so because you are healthy, but I am
suffering my 'passion.'" It is true, in a true "passion" it
becomes ever more difficult to be truly united with the Lord and
to maintain this disposition of union with the suffering Lord.
Let us therefore pray for all who are suffering and do our
utmost to help them, to show our gratitude for their suffering
and be present to them as much as we can, to the very end. This
is a fundamental message of Christianity that stems from the
theology of the Cross: The fact that suffering and passion are
present in Christ's love is the challenge for us to unite
ourselves with his passion.
We must love those who suffer not only with words but with all
our actions and our commitment. I think that only in this way
are we truly Christian. I wrote in my encyclical "Spe Salvi"
that the ability to accept suffering and those who suffer is the
measure of the humanity one possesses. When this ability is
lacking, man is reduced and redefined. Therefore, let us pray
the Lord to help us in our suffering and lead us to be close to
all those who suffering in this world.
4. Father Karl Golser: Holy Father, my name is Karl
Golser, I am a professor of moral theology here in Bressanone
and also director of the Institute for Justice, Peace and the
Preservation of the Creation; I am also a canon. I am pleased to
recall the period in which I was able to work with you at the
Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith.
As you know, the Catholic Church has deeply forged the history
and culture of our country. Today, however, we sometimes have
the feeling that, as Church, we have somewhat retired to the
sacristy. The declarations of the papal magisterium on the
important social issues do not find the right response in
parishes and ecclesial communities.
Here in Alto Adige, for example, the authorities and many
associations forcefully call attention to environmental problems
and in particular to climate change. The principal arguments are
the melting of glaciers, landslides in the mountains, the
problems of the cost of energy, traffic, and the pollution of
the atmosphere. There are many initiatives for safeguarding the
environment.
However, in the average awareness of our Christians, all this
has very little to do with faith. What can we do to increase the
sense of responsibility for creation in the life of our
Christian communities? What can we do in order to view Creation
and Redemption as more closely united? How can we live a
Christian lifestyle in an exemplary way that will endure? And
how can we combine this with a quality of life that is
attractive for all the people of our earth?
Pope Benedict XVI: Thank you very much, dear Professor
Golser. You would certainly be far more able than I to answer
these questions but I shall try just the same to say something.
You have thus touched on the theme of Creation and Redemption
and I think that this indissoluble bond should be given new
prominence.
In recent decades the doctrine of Creation had almost
disappeared from theology, it was almost imperceptible. We are
now aware of the damage that this has caused. The Redeemer is
the Creator and if we do not proclaim God in his full grandeur
-- as Creator and as Redeemer -- we also diminish the value of
the Redemption.
Indeed, if God has no role in Creation, if he is relegated
merely to a historical context, how can he truly understand the
whole of our life? How will he be able to bring salvation to man
in his entirety and to the world in its totality?
This is why, for me, the renewal of the doctrine of Creation and
a new understanding of the inseparability of Creation and
Redemption are of supreme importance. We must recognize anew: He
is the Creator Spiritus, the Reason that exists in the
beginning, from which all things are born and of which our own
reason is but a spark.
And it is he, the Creator himself, who did and can enter into
history and operate in it precisely because he is the God of the
whole and not only of a part. If we recognize this it will
obviously follow that the Redemption, being Christian, and
simply Christian faith, also means responsibility always and
everywhere with regard to creation.
Twenty-three years ago Christians were accused -- I do not know
if this accusation is still held -- of being the ones truly
responsible for the destruction of creation because the words
contained in Genesis -- "subdue the earth" -- were said to have
led to that arrogance with regard to creation whose consequences
we are reaping today.
I think we must learn again to understand this accusation in all
its falsity: As long as the earth was seen as God's creation,
the task of "subduing" it was never intended as an order to
enslave it but rather as the task of being guardians of creation
and developing its gifts; of actively collaborating in God's
work ourselves, in the evolution that he ordered in the world so
that the gifts of creation might be appreciated rather than
trampled upon and destroyed.
If we observe what came into being around monasteries, how in
those places small paradises, oases of creation were and
continue to be born, it becomes evident that these were not only
words. Rather, wherever the Creator's word was properly
understood, wherever life was lived with the redeeming Creator,
people strove to save creation and not to destroy it.
Chapter 8 of the Letter to the Romans also fits into this
context. It says that the whole of creation has been groaning in
travail because of the bondage to which it has been subjected,
awaiting the revelation of God's sons: It will feel liberated
when creatures, men and women who are children of God, treat it
according to God's perspective.
I believe that we can establish exactly this as a reality today.
Creation is groaning -- we perceive it, we almost hear it -- and
awaits human beings who will preserve it in accordance with God.
The brutal consumption of creation begins where God is not,
where matter is henceforth only material for us, where we
ourselves are the ultimate demand, where the whole is merely our
property and we consume it for ourselves alone.
And the wasting of creation begins when we no longer recognize
any need superior to our own, but see only ourselves. It begins
when there is no longer any concept of life beyond death, where
in this life we must grab hold of everything and possess life as
intensely as possible, where we must possess all that is
possible to possess.
I think, therefore, that true and effective initiatives to
prevent the waste and destruction of creation can be implemented
and developed, understood and lived only where creation is
considered as beginning with God; where life is considered as
beginning with God and has greater dimensions -- in
responsibility before God -- and one day will be given to us by
God in fullness and never taken away from us: In giving life we
receive it.
Thus, I believe we must strive with all the means we have to
present faith in public, especially where a sensitivity for it
already exists.
And I think that the sensation that the world may be slipping
away -- because it is we ourselves who are chasing it away --
and feeling oppressed by the problems of creation, afford us a
suitable opportunity in which our faith can speak publicly and
make itself felt as a propositional initiative.
Indeed, it is not merely a question of discovering technologies
that prevent the damage, even though it is important to find
alternative sources of energy, among other things.
Yet, none of this will suffice unless we ourselves find a new
way of living, a discipline of making sacrifices, a discipline
of the recognition of others to whom creation belongs as much as
it belongs to us who may more easily make use of it; a
discipline of responsibility with regard to the future of others
and to our own future, because it is a responsibility in the
eyes of the One who is our Judge and as such is also Redeemer
but, truly, also our Judge.
Consequently, I think in any case that the two dimensions --
Creation and Redemption, earthly life and eternal life,
responsibility for creation and responsibility for others and
for the future -- should be juxtaposed. I also think it is our
task to intervene clearly and with determination on public
opinion. To be heard, we must at the same time demonstrate by
our own example, by our own way of life, that we are speaking of
a message in which we ourselves believe and according to which
it is possible to live.
And let us ask the Lord to help us all to live out the faith and
the responsibility of faith in such a way that our lifestyle
becomes a testimony; and then to speak in such a way that our
works may credibly convey faith as an orientation in our time.
5. Father Franz Pixner, dean at Kastelruth: Holy
Father, I am Franz Pixner and I am the pastor of two large
parishes. I myself, together with many of my confreres and lay
persons, are concerned about the increasing burden of pastoral
care caused by, for example, the pastoral units that are being
created: the intense pressure of work, the lack of recognition,
difficulties concerning the magisterium, loneliness, the
dwindling number of priests, but also of communities of the
faithful. Many people wonder what God is asking of us in this
situation and how the Holy Spirit wishes to encourage us.
In this context arise questions concerning, for example, the
celibacy of priests, the ordination of "viri probati" to the
priesthood, the involvement of charisms, particularly those of
women, in pastoral care, making men and women collaborators
trained in theology responsible for conferring baptism and
preaching homilies.
The question is also asked how we priests, confronted by the new
challenges, can help one another in a brotherly community, at
the various levels of the diocese, diaconate and pastoral and
parish unit.
We ask you, Holy Father, to give us some good advice for all
these questions. Thank you.
Pope Benedict XVI: Dear dean, you have opened a whole
series of questions that occupy and concern pastors and all of
us in this age, and you certainly know that I cannot answer all
of them here. I imagine that you will have repeated
opportunities to consider them with your bishop, and we in turn
we will speak of them at the Synod of Bishops. All of us, I
believe stand in need of this dialogue with one another, of the
dialogue of faith and responsibility, in order to find the
straight narrow path in this era, full of difficult perspectives
on faith and challenges for priests. No one has an instant
recipe, we are all searching together.
With this reservation, I find myself together with all of you in
the midst of this process of toil and interior struggle, I shall
try to say a few words, precisely as part of a broader dialogue.
In my answer I would like to examine two fundamental aspects: on
the one hand, the irreplaceableness of the priest, the meaning
and the manner of the priestly ministry today; and on the other
-- and this is more obvious than it used to be -- the
multiplicity of charisms and the fact that all together they are
Church, they build the Church and for this reason we must strive
to reawaken charisms. We must foster this lively whole, which in
turn then also supports the priest. He supports others, others
support him and only in this complex and variegated whole can
the Church develop today and toward the future.
On the one hand, there will always be a need for the priest who
is totally dedicated to the Lord and therefore totally dedicated
to humanity. In the Old Testament there is the call to
"sanctification" which more or less corresponds to what we mean
today by "consecration," or even "priestly ordination":
Something is delivered over to God and is therefore removed from
the common sphere, it is given to him. Yet this means that it is
now available for all.
Since it has been taken and given to God, for this very reason
it is now not isolated by being raised from the "for," to the
"for all." I think that this can also be said of the Church's
priesthood. It means on the one hand that we are consigned to
the Lord, separated from ordinary life, but on the other, we are
consigned to him because in this way we can belong to him
totally and totally belong to others.
I believe we must continuously seek to show this to young people
-- to those who are idealists, who want to do something for the
whole -- show them that precisely this "extraction from the
common" means "consignment to the whole" and that this is an
important way, the most important way, to serve our brethren.
Part of this, moreover, is truly making oneself available to the
Lord in the fullness of one's being and consequently, finding
oneself totally available to men and women. I think celibacy is
a fundamental expression of this totality and already, for this
reason, an important reference in this world because it only has
meaning if we truly believe in eternal life and if we believe
that God involves us and that we can be for him.
Therefore, the priesthood is indispensable because in the
Eucharist itself, originating in God, the Church is built; in
the sacrament of penance purification is conferred; in the
sacrament, the priesthood is, precisely, an involvement in the
"for" of Jesus Christ.
However, I know well how difficult it is today -- when a priest
finds himself directing not only one easily managed parish but
several parishes and pastoral units; when he must be available
to give this or that advice, and so forth -- how difficult it is
to live such a life. I believe that in this situation it is
important to have the courage to limit oneself and to be clear
about deciding on priorities.
A fundamental priority of priestly life is to be with the Lord
and thus to have time for prayer. St. Charles Borromeo always
used to say: "You will not be able to care for the souls of
others if you let your own perish. In the end you will no longer
do anything even for others. You must always have time for being
with God."
I would therefore like to emphasize: Whatever the demands that
arise, it is a real priority to find every day, I would say, an
hour to be in silence for the Lord and with the Lord, as the
Church suggests we do with the breviary, with daily prayers, so
as to continually enrich ourselves inwardly, to return -- as I
said in answering the first question -- to within the reach of
the Holy Spirit's breath. And to order priorities on this basis:
I must learn to see what is truly essential, where my presence
as a priest is indispensable and where I cannot delegate anyone
else. And at the same time, I must humbly accept when there are
many things I should do and where my presence is requested that
I cannot manage because I know my limits. I think people
understand this humility.
And I now must link the other aspect to this: knowing how to
delegate, to get people to collaborate. I have the impression
that people understand and also appreciate it when a priest is
with God, when he is concerned with his office of being the
person who prays for others: "We," they say, "cannot pray so
much, you must do it for us: Basically, it is your job, as it
were, to be the one who prays for us."
They want a priest who honestly endeavors to live with the Lord
and then is available to men and women -- the suffering, the
dying, the sick, children, young people (I would say that they
are the priorities) -- but also who can distinguish between
things that others do better than him, thereby making room for
those gifts.
I am thinking of movements and of many other forms of
collaboration in the parish. May all these things also be
reflected upon in the diocese itself, new forms of collaboration
should be created and interchanges encouraged.
You rightly said that in this it is important to look beyond the
parish to the diocesan community, indeed, to the community of
the universal Church, which in her turn must direct her gaze to
see what is happening in the parish and what the consequences
are for the individual priest.
You then touched on another point, very important in my eyes:
Priests, even if they live far apart, are a true community of
brothers who should support and help one another. In order not
to drift into isolation, into loneliness with its sorrows, it is
important for us to meet one another regularly.
It will be the task of the diocese to establish how best to
organize meetings for priests -- today we have cars which make
traveling easier -- so that we can experience being together
ever anew, learn from one another, mutually correct and help one
another, cheer one another and comfort one another, so that in
this communion of the presbyterate, together with the bishop we
can carry out our service to the local Church. Precisely, no
priest is a priest on his own; we are a presbyterate, and it is
only in this communion with the bishop that each one can carry
out his service.
Now, this beautiful communion recognized by all at the
theological level, must also be expressed in practice in the
ways identified by the local Church, and it must be extended
because no bishop is a bishop on his own, but only a bishop in
the College, in the great communion of bishops. This is the
communion we should always strive for.
And I think that it is a particularly beautiful aspect of
Catholicism: through the primacy, which is not an absolute
monarchy but a service of communion, that we may have the
certainty of this unity. Thus in a large community with many
voices, all together we make the great music of faith ring out
in this world.
Let us pray the Lord to comfort us when we think we cannot
manage any longer: Let us support one another and then the Lord
will help us to find the right paths together.
6.
Father Paolo Rizzi, parish priest and lecturer in theology at
the Higher Institute for Religious Sciences: Holy Father, I
am parish priest and lecturer in theology at the Higher
Institute for Religious Sciences. We would like to hear your
pastoral opinion about the situation concerning the sacraments
of first Communion and confirmation.
Always more often the children, boys and girls, who receive
these sacraments prepare themselves with commitment to the
catechetical meetings but do not take part in the Sunday
Eucharist, and then one wonders: What is the point of all this?
At times we might feel like saying: "Then just stay at home."
Instead, we continue as always to accept them, believing that in
any case it is better not to extinguish the wick of the little
flickering flame. We think, that is, that in any case, the gift
of the Spirit can have an effect beyond what we can see, and
that in an epoch of transition like this one it is more prudent
not to make drastic decisions.
More generally, 35 years ago I thought that we were beginning to
be a little flock, a minority community, more or less everywhere
in Europe; that we should therefore administer the sacraments
only to those who are truly committed to Christian life. Then,
partly because of the style of John Paul II's pontificate, I
thought things through again. If it is possible to make
predictions for the future, what do you think? What pastoral
approaches can you suggest to us? Thank you.
Pope Benedict XVI: Well, I cannot give an infallible
answer here, I can only seek to respond according to what I see.
I must say that I took a similar route to yours.
When I was younger I was rather severe. I said: The sacraments
are sacraments of faith, and where faith does not exist, where
the practice of faith does not exist, the sacrament cannot be
conferred either.
And then I always used to talk to my parish priest when I was
archbishop of Munich: Here too there were two factions, one
severe and one broad-minded. Then I too, with time, came to
realize that we must follow, rather, the example of the Lord,
who was very open even with people on the margins of Israel of
that time. He was a Lord of mercy, too open -- according to many
official authorities -- with sinners, welcoming them or letting
them invite him to their dinners, drawing them to him in his
communion.
Therefore I would say substantially that the sacraments are
naturally sacraments of faith: When there is no element of
faith, when first Communion is no more than a great lunch with
beautiful clothes and beautiful gifts, it can no longer be a
sacrament of faith.
Yet, on the other hand, if we can still see a little flame of
desire for communion in the faith, a desire even in these
children who want to enter into communion with Jesus, it seems
to me that it is right to be rather broad-minded.
Naturally, of course, one purpose of our catechesis must be to
make children understand that Communion, first Communion, is not
a "fixed" event, but requires a continuity of friendship with
Jesus, a journey with Jesus. I know that children often have the
intention and desire to go to Sunday Mass but their parents do
not make this desire possible.
If we see that children want it, that they have the desire to
go, this seems to me almost a sacrament of desire, the "will" to
participate in Sunday Mass. In this sense, we naturally must do
our best in the context of preparation for the sacraments to
reach the parents as well, and thus to -- let us say -- awaken
in them too a sensitivity to the process in which their child is
involved.
They should help their children to follow their own desire to
enter into friendship with Jesus, which is a form of life, of
the future. If parents want their children to be able to make
their first Communion, this somewhat social desire must be
extended into a religious one, to make a journey with Jesus
possible.
I would say, therefore, that in the context of the catechesis of
children, that work with parents is very important. And this is
precisely one of the opportunities to meet with parents, making
the life of faith also present to the adults, because, it seems
to me, they themselves can relearn the faith from the children
and understand that this great solemnity is only meaningful,
true and authentic if it is celebrated in the context of a
journey with Jesus, in the context of a life of faith.
Thus, one should endeavor to convince parents, through their
children, of the need for a preparatory journey that is
expressed in participation in the mysteries and that begins to
make these mysteries loved.
I would say that this is definitely an inadequate answer, but
the pedagogy of faith is always a journey and we must accept
today's situations. Yet, we must also open them more to each
person, so that the result is not only an external memory of
things that endures but that their hearts that have truly been
touched.
The moment when we are convinced the heart is touched -- it has
felt a little of Jesus' love, it has felt a little the desire to
move along these lines and in this direction -- that is the
moment when, it seems to me, we can say that we have made a true
catechesis. The proper meaning of catechesis, in fact, must be
this: to bring the flame of Jesus' love, even if it is a small
one, to the hearts of children, and through the children to
their parents, thus reopening the places of faith of our time.
[Translation by L'Osservatore Romano]
Look at the One they
Pierced!
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Mary
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