"God Does Not Fail"
Homily
To Swiss Bishops
H.H. Benedict XVI
Redemptoris Mater Chapel
Nov. 7, 2006
Zenit.org
Dear Confreres,
The texts we have just heard -- the Reading, the Responsorial
Psalm and the Gospel -- have a common theme that could be
summarized in the phrase: "God never fails". Or more precisely:
initially God always fails, he lets human freedom exist and this
freedom constantly says "no"; but God's imagination, the
creative power of his love, is greater than the human "no". With
every human "no" a new dimension of his love is bestowed and he
finds a new and greater way to bring about his "yes" to man,
history and creation.
In the great hymn to Christ in the Letter to the Philippians
with which we began, we listened first of all to an allusion to
the story of Adam, who was not satisfied with God's friendship;
it was not enough for him because he himself wanted to be a god.
He considered friendship as a dependence and considered himself
a god, as though he could exist solely by himself. He therefore
said "no" in order to become a god himself and in this very way,
he threw himself down from his exalted position.
God "failed" in Adam -- and likewise, to all appearances,
throughout history. But God did not fail, for now he becomes a
man himself and so begins a new humanity; he roots God's being
in a human being in an irrevocable way and descended to the
deepest abysses of man's being: he humbled himself even unto the
Cross. He overcame pride with the humility and the obedience of
the Cross. And in this way what Isaiah had foretold (chapter 45)
came to pass.
At the time when Israel was living in exile and had disappeared
from the map, the Prophet predicted that the whole world --
"every knee" -- would bend before this powerless God. And the
Letter to the Philippians confirms it: it has now happened.
Through the Cross of Christ, God made himself close to the
peoples, he came out of Israel and became the God of the world.
And now the cosmos kneels before Jesus Christ, and this is
something we too can experience in a marvelous way today: on all
the continents, even in the most humble of huts, the Crucifix is
present.
The God who had "failed" now through his love truly brings man
to bend his knee and thus overcomes the world with his love.
We sang the second part of the Psalm of the Passion as the
Responsorial Psalm. It is the Psalm of the righteous sufferer,
in the first place suffering Israel who, before the mute God who
abandoned it, cries: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Why are you so far from helping me? ... Now I am almost spent
... you do not act ... you do not answer ... why have you
forsaken me?" (cf. 22[21]). Jesus identifies himself with the
suffering Israel, with the suffering just ones of every age
abandoned by God, and he cries out at God's abandonment; the
pain of being forgotten he carries to the Heart of God himself,
and in this way transforms the world.
The second part of the Psalm, the part that we recited, tells us
the result of this: the poor will eat and be satisfied. It is
the universal Eucharist that derives from the Cross. God now
satisfies man throughout the world, the poor who are in need of
him. He gives them the satiety they need: he gives God, he gives
himself.
The Psalm then says: "All the ends of the earth shall remember
and turn to the Lord". The universal Church derives from the
Cross. God goes beyond Judaism to embrace the whole world, to
unite it in the banquet of the poor.
And lastly, the Gospel message: again, the failure of God. Those
who were invited first declined, they did not come.
God's hall remains empty, the banquet seemed to have been
prepared in vain. This is what Jesus experienced in the last
stages of his activity: official groups, the authorities, say
"no" to God's invitation, which is he himself. They do not come.
His message, his call, ends in the human "no".
However, God did not fail here, either. The empty hall becomes
an opportunity to invite a larger number of people. God's love,
God's invitation is extended. Luke recounts this in two
episodes.
First, the invitation is addressed to the poor, the abandoned,
those who were never invited by anyone in the city. In this way,
God did what we heard in yesterday's Gospel reading.
(Today's Gospel is part of a small symposium in the setting of a
meal at a Pharisee's house. There are four texts: first, the
healing of the man with dropsy; then, the words about the lowest
places; then, the teaching about not inviting friends who would
invite you back but those who are really hungry, who cannot
reciprocate the invitation; and then appropriately, our account
follows).
God now does what he told the Pharisee to do: he invites those
who possess nothing, who are truly hungry, who cannot invite him
back, who cannot give him anything.
The second episode follows. He departs from the city to go on
the country roads: the homeless are invited. We may suppose that
Luke means these two episodes in the sense that the first to
enter the hall are Israel's poor and later -- because there were
not enough of them since God's space was larger -- the
invitation extends beyond the Holy City to the world of the
peoples. Those who do not at all belong to God, who are outside,
are now invited to fill the hall. And Luke, who has handed down
this Gospel to us, certainly saw in anticipation, in a
figurative way, the events recounted later in the Acts of the
Apostles, where precisely this happens.
Paul always begins his mission in the synagogue with those who
are invited first; and only when the authoritative figures
excuse themselves and he remains alone with a small group of
poor people does he go to the Gentiles.
Thus, the Gospel through this ever new way of the Cross becomes
universal, it influences everything, eventually even Rome.
In Rome, Paul summons the heads of the synagogue and proclaims
to them the mystery of Jesus Christ, the Kingdom of God in his
Person. However, the authorities excuse themselves and he takes
his leave of them with these words: Well, since you will not
listen, this message will be proclaimed to the Gentiles and they
will listen to it. With such confidence he concludes the message
of failure: they will listen; the Church of the Gentiles will be
built. And she was built and continues to be built.
During the "ad limina" visits, I hear of many serious and
tiresome things, but always -- precisely from the Third World --
I also hear this: that people listen, that they come, that even
today the message spreads along the roads to the very ends of
the earth and that people crowd into God's hall for his banquet.
Consequently, we should ask ourselves: what does all this mean
for us?
First of all, it means one certainty: God does not fail. He
"fails" continuously, but for this very reason he does not fail,
because through this he finds new opportunities for far greater
mercy and his imagination is inexhaustible.
He does not fail because he finds ever new ways to reach people
and to open wider his great house so that it is completely
filled.
He does not fail because he does not shrink from the prospect of
asking people to come and sit at his table, to eat the food of
the poor in which the precious gift is offered, God himself. God
does not fail, not even today. Even if we come up against many "noes",
we can be sure of it.
From the whole of this history of God, starting with Adam, we
can conclude: God never fails.
Today too, he will find new ways to call men, and he wants to
have us with him as his messengers and servants.
Precisely in our time we know very well how those who were
invited first say "no". Indeed, Western Christianity, the new
"first guests", now largely excuse themselves, they do not have
time to come to the Lord. We know the churches that are ever
more empty, seminaries continue to be empty, religious houses
that are increasingly empty; we are familiar with all the forms
in which this "no, I have other important things to do" is
presented. And it distresses and upsets us to be witnesses of
these excuses and refusals of the first guests, who in reality
should know the importance of the invitation and should feel
drawn in that direction.
What should we do?
First of all, we should ask ourselves: why is this happening?
In his Parable the Lord mentions two reasons: possessions and
human relations, which involve people to the extent that they no
longer feel the need for anything else to fill their time and
therefore their interior existence.
St Gregory the Great in his explanation of this text sought to
delve into it further and wondered: how can a man say "no" to
the greatest thing that exists; that he has no time for what is
most important; that he can lock himself into his own existence?
And he answers: in reality, they have never had an experience of
God; they have never acquired a "taste" for God; they have never
experienced how delightful it is to be "touched" by God! They
lack this "contact" -- and with it, the "taste for God". And
only if we, so to speak, taste him, only then can we come to the
banquet.
St Gregory cites the Psalm from which today's Communion Antiphon
is taken: Taste, try it and see; taste and then you will see and
be enlightened! Our task is to help people so they can taste the
flavor for God anew.
In another homily, St Gregory the Great deepened further the
same question and asked himself: how can it be that man does not
even want to "taste" God?
And he responds: when man is entirely caught up in his own
world, with material things, with what he can do, with all that
is feasible and brings him success, with all that he can produce
or understand by himself, then his capacity to perceive God
weakens, the organ sensitive to God deteriorates, it becomes
unable to perceive and sense, it no longer perceives the Divine,
because the corresponding inner organ has withered, it has
stopped developing.
When he overuses all the other organs, the empirical ones, it
can happen that it is precisely the sense of God that suffers,
that this organ dies, and man, as St Gregory says, no longer
perceives God's gaze, to be looked at by him, the fact that his
precious gaze touches me!
I maintain that St Gregory the Great has described exactly the
situation of our time -- in fact, his was an age very similar to
ours. And the question still arises: what should we do?
I hold that the first thing to do is what the Lord tells us
today in the First Reading, and which St Paul cries to us in
God's Name: "Your attitude must be Christ's -- 'Touto phroneite
en hymin ho kai en Christo Iesou'".
Learn to think as Christ thought, learn to think with him! And
this thinking is not only the thinking of the mind, but also a
thinking of the heart.
We learn Jesus Christ's sentiments when we learn to think with
him and thus, when we learn to think also of his failure, of his
passage through failure and of the growth of his love in
failure.
If we enter into these sentiments of his, if we begin to
practice thinking like him and with him, then joy for God is
awakened within us, confident that he is the strongest; yes, we
can say that love for him is reawakened within us. We feel how
beautiful it is that he is there and that we can know him --
that we know him in the face of Jesus Christ who suffered for
us.
I think this is the first thing: that we ourselves enter into
vital contact with God -- with the Lord Jesus, the living God;
that in us the organ directed to God be strengthened; that we
bear within us a perception of his "exquisiteness".
This also gives life to our work, but we also run a risk: one
can do much, many things in the ecclesiastical field, all for
God ..., and yet remain totally taken up with oneself, without
encountering God. Work replaces faith, but then one becomes
empty within.
I therefore believe that we must make an effort above all to
listen to the Lord in prayer, in deep interior participation in
the sacraments, in learning the sentiments of God in the faces
and the suffering of others, in order to be infected by his joy,
his zeal and his love, and to look at the world with him and
starting from him.
If we can succeed in doing this, even in the midst of the many "noes",
we will once again find people waiting for him who may perhaps
often be odd -- the parable clearly says so -- but who are
nevertheless called to enter his hall.
Once again, in other words: it is a matter of the centrality of
God, and not just any god but the God with the Face of Jesus
Christ. Today, this is crucial.
There are so many problems one could list that must be solved,
but none of them can be solved unless God is put at the centre,
if God does not become once again visible to the world, if he
does not become the determining factor in our lives and also
enters the world in a decisive way through us.
In this, I believe that the future of the world in this dramatic
situation is decided today: whether God -- the God of Jesus
Christ -- exists and is recognized as such, or whether he
disappears.
We are concerned that he be present. What must we do? As the
last resort? Let us turn to him! We are celebrating this votive
Mass of the Holy Spirit, calling upon him: "Lava quod est
sordidum, riga quod est aridum, sana quod est saucium. Flecte
quod est rigidum, fove quod est frigidum, rege quod est devium".
Let us invoke him so that he will irrigate, warm and straighten,
so that he will pervade us with the power of his sacred flame
and renew the earth. Let us pray for this with all our hearts at
this time, in these days. Amen.
[Translation issued by the Holy See]
© Copyright 2006 -- Libreria Editrice Vaticana
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