Author Archives: Father Boniface Hicks, O.S.B.

For you? For some? For many? For all? Is Catholicism for everyone?

In the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed, we profess our belief each Sunday in “one, holy, catholic and apostolic church.” The word “catholic” in Greek means “universal”. Our initial impression, then, would be that the “Catholicism” is for everyone. There are some modern factors that cloud that impression, however. One confusing factor is the relativism that is so prevalent in our culture. One who ascribes to relativism believes there is no absolute and thus no universal (i.e. catholic) truth or morality and thus no universal religion. This might be expressed as, “Whatever you think is good and true–that is good and true for you. Whatever I think is good and true–that is good and true for me.” Another confusing factor has recently appeared in the heart of Catholic worship, in the Eucharist. For forty years the words of consecration, the very heart of the Eucharistic prayer, were translated into English as, “this is the cup of my Blood, which will be shed for you and for all…”. Now at Mass we hear, “this is the chalice of my Blood, which will be poured out for you and for many…”. Should we take from this change in the Eucharistic Prayer that the relativists are right, that Catholicism is not truly universal, but only good and true for some?

Pope Benedict's teaching on “pro multis”

Fortunately, Pope Benedict teaches us beautifully on this point. We will consider his explanation given in a letter to German-speaking bishops on April 14, 2012. The entire letter is beautiful, clear and worth reading. I would like to draw out a few points here that can help us in our understanding and living the Catholic faith.

Revelation always requires an interpeter

The first point is that the literal translation of the Latin pro multis is “for many”. Why then was it translated for so many years as “for all”? Pope Benedict explains that a style of translation was embraced after the Second Vatican Council that catered to a concern for the common person's understanding. The text, in Latin, had been remote from people's understanding, but if only presented in a direct translation, the implementors of the new liturgy feared the text would remain remote. Thus, to aid in the understanding of the liturgical prayer in modern languages, the translators incorporated interpretation into the translation. So, as an example, while it was not a problem that the words of consecration were pronounced in Latin as pro multis, there was a fear that if the words were translated directly into English as “for many” there would be a misunderstanding about the Church's theology. Instead of entrusting the task of interpretation to the Church's ministers (bishops, priests, catechists, parents), the decision was made to incorporate the interpretation into the translation.

This is the first key point Pope Benedict helps us understand: the need for interpretation is always a part of revelation. That is why God ordained teachers (Peter and the Apostles and now their successors, the Pope and bishops) and guaranteed that they would provide an authentic interpretation (not even the gates of hell will prevail against the rock of Peter). Pope Benedict expresses it in this way,

Not even the most sensitive translation can take away the need for explanation: it is part of the structure of revelation that the word of God is read within the exegetical community of the Church – faithfulness and drawing out the contemporary relevance go together. The word must be presented as it is, with its own shape, however strange it may appear to us; the interpretation must be measured by the criterion of faithfulness to the word itself, while at the same time rendering it accessible to today's listeners.

A corollary to this point is that we must keep growing in faith. This shows the need for ongoing formation. When there are things we do not understand, it is our responsibility to seek an authentic interpretation by looking to the Church's teaching. We can start with the Catechism and the documents of the Second Vatican Council. We can ask our parish priests who can explain things for us in terms of the teaching of the Magisterium (the Pope and the bishops). We can look for explanations in the writings of the Popes which can easily be found on the Vatican website. It is the Church's responsibility to provide an interpretation and the individual Christian's responsibility to seek it out and make the effort to understand it. This is part of the structure of revelation.

“For many” still means “for all”

Pope Benedict goes on in his letter to the German bishops to help us understand whether the change to “for many” indicates that Jesus did not die for all. He writes,

Did the Lord not die for all? The fact that Jesus Christ, the incarnate Son of God, is the man for all men, the new Adam, is one of the fundamental convictions of our faith. Let me recall just three Scriptural texts on the subject: God 'did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all', as Paul says in the Letter to the Romans (8:32). 'One has died for all,' as he says in the Second Letter to the Corinthians concerning Jesus' death (5:14). Jesus 'gave himself as a ransom for all,' as we read in the First Letter to Timothy (2:6).

Certainly Jesus Christ died for all. Cardinal Francis Arinze gives a further explanation on this point in his letter dated October 17, 2006, sent to the US Bishops,

The expression 'for many,' while remaining open to the inclusion of each human person, is reflective also of the fact that this salvation is not brought about in some mechanistic way, without one’s own willing or participation; rather, the believer is invited to accept in faith the gift that is being offered and to receive the supernatural life that is given to those who participate in this mystery, living it out in their lives as well so as to be numbered among the 'many' to whom the text refers.

Here Cardinal Arinze makes it clear that Jesus died for all, but it is up to us to accept the gift of salvation.

For you!

Pope Benedict teaches us more of the beautiful meaning behind the phrase of Jesus, “for many”. It should be noted, first, that the account of Jesus's words at the Last Supper are different in Matthew and Mark's accounts in contrast with Luke and Paul. In Matthew and Mark, Jesus says, “for many” while in Luke and Paul He says, “for you.” The Roman Mass combined these words into “for you and for many.” When we read “for you” we do not understand that the Precious Blood of Jesus is shed only for the Apostles who were present at the Last Supper. Rather we see the personal way Jesus applies His Precious Blood to them. Likewise, the saving power of His Precious Blood is still applied to each one present at the Eucharistic Liturgy, who can hear those words personally addressed them. We can each stand at the foot of the Cross and rightly hear Jesus tell us that He is pouring out His Blood for me.

Pope Benedict then turns the love of Jesus spoken to each one personally at the Mass into a challenge. Jesus says, “I pour out my Blood for you and for many but it is your responsibility to ensure that it reaches all.” Pope Benedict expresses the challenge in this way,

How the Lord in his own way reaches the others – 'all' – ultimately remains his mystery. But without doubt it is a responsibility to be directly called to his table, so that I hear the words 'for you' – he suffered for me. The many bear responsibility for all. The community of the many must be the lamp on the lamp-stand, a city on the hilltop, yeast for all. This is a vocation that affects each one of us individually, quite personally. The many, that is to say, we ourselves, must be conscious of our mission of responsibility towards the whole.

We are not few but many!

Finally Pope Benedict uses the “for many” to encourage us. Sometimes we do not feel like “many” we only feel like “some” or “few”. Especially as our church communities dwindle in size, we must take up the responsibility to extend Jesus's life-giving death to others, but we must also remember that we are part of “many.” Indeed, St John reports in the book of Revelation that he saw, “a great multitude, which no one could count, from every nation, race, people, and tongue. They stood before the throne and before the Lamb…” (Rev 7:9) We must remember that even when only a few are present at Mass, we are always in the presence of many, even a multitude of saints who have gone before and are united with us in the Church.

Indeed, Catholicism is not merely for a few, for some or for many–it is for all, a universal religion that has the power to transform and elevate all that is authentically human and unite it with the divine.

“Blessed Be Saint Joseph, Her Most Chaste Spouse”

As the Divine Praises remind us, St. Joseph is Mary’s most chaste spouse. He is a master of purity and a master of modesty, even if he needs a little convincing on this point. A master of purity is able to see, to read, in the language of the body, the mystery of God’s presence hidden in the intimate center of another. A master of modesty does not exploit this mystery, nor expose this mystery, nor run away from this mystery, but rather veils the mystery with his love. In the end, St. Joseph both sees and veils the mystery of God’s spousal love for mankind expressed in the body of the Blessed Virgin Mary. But it took an angel to help him understand this and have the courage to accept the task.

Purity and modesty

We turn to the Catechism to understand more clearly the two virtues of purity of heart and modesty. The Catechism teaches us: “[purity of heart] enables us to see according to God…; it lets us perceive the human body–ours and our neighbor’s–as a temple of the Holy Spirit, a manifestation of divine beauty” (CCC, 2519). Purity of heart allows us to behold the mystery, the beauty hidden in the heart of another, but seen through the body. In regard to modesty, the Catechism of the Catholic Church paragraph 2521 reads, “Modesty protects the intimate center of the person. It means refusing to unveil what should remain hidden…”and in paragraph 2522 we read, “Modesty protects the mystery of persons and their love… it keeps silence or reserve where there is evident risk of unhealthy curiosity. It is discreet.”

St Joseph’s drama – purity sees the mystery, humility backs away

Let us turn now to the Scriptures to see how the drama of St. Joseph’s life unfolds. Throughout the ages, the “Masters of Suspicion,” as St. John Paul II names them, read the Annunciation to St. Joseph with the suspicion that no one, even St. Joseph, could have sufficient purity of heart to see the mystery of God’s love in the unexpected pregnancy of the Blessed Virgin Mary. This presumption colors the interpretations of key biblical passages, supposing that St. Joseph saw Mary as an adulteress. Modern Scripture scholarship and the Doctors of the Church help us to reread these passages in the light of truth. The passage in question comes from St. Matthew’s Gospel and we hear it each year in the Mass on Christmas Eve and on the Solemnity of St. Joseph: “Joseph, her husband, since he was a righteous man, yet unwilling to expose her to shame, decided to divorce her quietly.” (Mt 1:19)

First, we need help with two Greek words–the verb deigmatizo, translated here as “expose to shame” and apoluo translated here as “divorce.” While we cannot go into all the details, a valid re-translation of this passage is proposed by the Jesuit scripture scholar Fr. Ignace de la Potterie, “But Joseph, her spouse, who was a just man, and who did not wish to unveil (her mystery), resolved to secretly separate (himself) from her.” (Mary in the Mystery of the Covenant, p. 39)

From this we get a better understanding of the insight of St. Bernard of Clairvaux who wrote, “Why did he wish to leave her?… He saw, with sacred astonishment, that she bore a special quality of the divine presence, and while not being able to understand this mystery, he wished to leave her.” (Hom. “Super Missus Est”) St. Thomas Aquinas reiterates this insight in his Summa Theologica, “Joseph wanted to give the Virgin her liberty, not because he suspected her of adultery, but out of respect for her sanctity he feared to live together with her.” (Supplementum III, q. 62, art. 3)

Then the angel appears to St. Joseph in a dream and helps him (and us) to understand the following truth expressed by St. John Paul II in his reflections on the Sermon on the Mount in the Theology of the Body, “[Christ] assigns the dignity of every woman as a task to every man.” And “he assigns also the dignity of every man to every woman” (TOB 100:6). Upholding this dignity “is assigned as ethos to every man, male and female: it is assigned to his ‘heart,’ to his conscience, to his looks, and to his behavior” (TOB 100:7). St. Joseph is assigned the “task” of Mary’s dignity. This task requires two virtues: purity, to see, and modesty, to protect.

Scripture scholarship and the Doctors of the Church reinforce our faith that St. Joseph’s purity of heart allowed him to behold a great mystery in the body of Mary. In the purity of his heart, St. Joseph beheld in his virginal bride not the sin of an adulteress but the awesome mystery of God’s presence. The body of Mary caused the sacred astonishment of St. Joseph as he beheld the great mystery of divine, spousal love in the language of Mary’s virginal pregnancy.

At the same time, St. Joseph recognized the virtue necessary to protect such a profound mystery. He feared that in his human weakness, he might defile the mystery by remaining close. Like St. Peter and the centurion who both said, “I am not worthy,” St. Joseph did not consider himself virtuous enough to veil this mystery by his presence; rather he thought he could do so better by his absence. Because of this, reasoned St Bernard, St Joseph decided to separate himself (apoluo) from Mary.

Obedience veils the mystery

Fortunately, in God’s gentle Providence, He sent an angel to St. Joseph to reassure him that he should protect her mystery by remaining her husband, by taking her mystery with him under his roof. Scripture affirms that St Joseph obeyed the angel. We can even read the exactitude of his obedience by the exact correspondence in scripture. The angel said, “Take Mary your wife into your home” (Mt 1:20) and Scripture affirms, “When Joseph awoke, he did as the angel of the Lord had commanded him and took his wife into his home.” (Mt 1:24)

One of the Church Fathers claimed the success of Joseph’s obedience in indicating that it is precisely the marriage that he maintained with Mary that protected her from the devil. Referring to something written by St Ignatius of Antioch, Origen asserted that the devil did not find Mary because he was looking for a Virgin rather than a married woman.

I found an elegant statement in the writing of a martyr–I mean Ignatius, the second bishop of Antioch after Peter. During a persecution, he fought against wild animals at Rome. He stated: “Mary’s virginity escaped notice of the ruler of this age.” It escaped his notice because of Joseph, and because of their wedding, and because Mary was thought to have a husband. If she had not been betrothed or had (as people thought) a husband, her virginity could never have been concealed from the “ruler of this age”. (Trans. By Joseph Lienhard, Origen: Homilies on Luke, Fragments on Luke, FC 94 [Washington, 1996, 24-25], quoted in St. Joseph in Early Christianity, pp. 36-37)

St Joseph’s obedience to the angel’s command served as a veil to protect Mary and her Child from the ruler of this age. This pattern was repeated twice more as St Joseph protected the Child and His Mother from Herod’s wrath (Mt 2:13) and the menace of Archelaus (Mt. 2:22) through his humble obedience to the angel’s command (Mt 2:14,22).

Let us ask St. Joseph to teach us true chastity in purity of heart, in modesty and in obedience. We ask him first to teach us to have sensitive hearts that can recognize the beauty of the mystery of God’s presence in us and in others. Then may he teach to protect that mystery through the obedience of faith. In this way, like St Joseph we will enter into deeper communion with Mary and the Mystery of God’s love revealed in the Word made flesh in her womb.

Originally written for the Theology of the Body Institute e-newsletter and expanded March 19, 2016

St Joseph’s “Doubt”

Here is a homily I gave to our monks in 2015 summarizing the interpretations of St. Joseph’s “doubt” in chapter 1 of Matthew’s Gospel. There are three main approaches to St Joseph’s struggle by saints, doctors, theologians and Popes throughout the ages. All three approaches can help us to see the greatness of this man chosen by God to be the spouse of Mary and the human, virginal father (legally, socially, but not biologically) of Jesus, the Son of God.

St Joseph, son of David, pray for us!

St. Joseph, Master of Virginal Begetting

Msgr. Jean-Jacques Olier, who founded the great seminary Sainte-Sulpice (and later the Sulpicians) as a response to the Council of Trent's call for a reform of the approach to training priests in seminaries, entrusted the seminarians of Sainte-Sulpice to the patronage of St. Joseph. The reason, he explained, was that St. Joseph, like priests, was involved in the “virginal begetting of Christ.” To understand this, one must recognize that the marriage between Joseph and Mary was necessary for the Annunciation to take place. In this sense St Joseph plays a real and important, although not biological, role in the begetting of Christ. St John Paul II wrote that “while it is important for the Church to profess the virginal conception of Jesus, it is no less important to uphold Mary's marriage to Joseph” (Redemptoris Custos #7).

Msgr Olier's concern that priests master the art of the virginal begetting is shared by Pope Francis who tied together unhappiness in a celibate vocation with a lack of spiritual fatherhood, “please: … never any priests with faces like 'chilis pickled in vinegar' — never! … But what is at the heart of this lack of joy? … when a priest is not a father to his community … he becomes sad. … the root of sadness in pastoral life is precisely in the absence of fatherhood…. It is impossible to imagine a priest … who [is] not fertile: this is not Catholic!… Joy, no sadness, pastoral fecundity.” (Pope Francis, Address to novices and seminarians, July 6, 2013)

Essentially, Pope Francis is emphasizing that the joy of the priesthood comes from fulfilling the spousal meaning of the body in making a sincere gift of oneself. This self-gift becomes mystically, virginally fruitful, begetting Christ in souls, and thus engenders a spiritual fatherhood in the priest. What can we learn from St. Joseph about how to live out this essential element of priesthood more fruitfully?

St Joseph models a culture of encounter and tenderness

The first point is the importance of cultivating encounters with certain qualities–encounters that are personal, tender, and open to human suffering. Pope Francis has taught us persistently about this as he has encouraged us to build a culture of encounter. When we have the courage to draw close to others, it forms a people, a family. “Sometimes we are tempted to be that kind of Christian who keeps the Lord’s wounds at arm’s length. Yet Jesus wants us to touch human misery, to touch the suffering flesh of others. He hopes that we will stop looking for those personal or communal niches which shelter us from the maelstrom of human misfortune and instead enter into the reality of other people’s lives and know the power of tenderness. Whenever we do so, our lives become wonderfully complicated and we experience intensely what it is to be a people, to be part of a people.” (Pope Francis, Evangelii Gaudium (EG) #270)

St Joseph was tempted to distance himself from Mary, from her human suffering, but his openness to the Word of God and his courage to reverse his decision and draw close to Mary is an inspiration for priests who might likewise seek to distance themselves. His return to Mary with tenderness, rather than stoning, is likewise an example. And there is no doubt that his decision made his life “wonderfully complicated” and helped to form a people, truly to form the People of God.

Complementarity, the Holy Spirit and virginal fruitfulness

A second quality that is important for spiritual fecundity can be seen in the complementarity of Joseph and Mary and the role of the Holy Spirit. Joseph and Mary could only enter into a marriage because they were male and female. Furthermore, the virginal begetting could only take place because Mary was overshadowed by the Holy Spirit. St Joseph clearly did not understand all that was taking place and yet he was willing to draw close to the mystery and discover God in a new way in his virgin bride. The priest opens himself to the same spiritual fruitfulness when he draws close to the mystery of the bridal Church in the power of the Holy Spirit. He does this when he preaches the Word of God in the power of the Holy Spirit. Without this the seeds of faith cannot be planted in hearts, “and how can they believe…without someone to preach?” (Rom 10:14) When the priest goes out of himself to plant the seeds of faith in the hearts of his people, watering them with baptism and nourishing them with the tenderness of personal encounter, the Church becomes pregnant with new life by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Without the bridal Church and without the Holy Spirit there can be no virginal begetting. Pope Francis drew out this analogy in a Wednesday Audience on the Church, “First of all a mother generates life, she carries her child in her womb for 9 months and then delivers him to life, giving birth to him. The Church is like this: she bears us in the faith, through the work of the Holy Spirit who makes her fertile, like the Virgin Mary.” (Sept. 09, 2013) Pope Francis also described the fruitfulness that comes when we are willing to let ourselves be fascinated by the difference, by the complementarity of the other, “When we live out a spirituality of drawing nearer to others and seeking their welfare, our hearts are opened wide to the Lord’s greatest and most beautiful gifts. Whenever we encounter another person in love, we learn something new about God. Whenever our eyes are opened to acknowledge the other, we grow in the light of faith and knowledge of God.” (EG #271)

The mysterious nature of virginal fruitfulness

A final point that must be raised is that the pastoral fecundity is not always obvious; virginal begetting is also mysterious. Just as St. Joseph lived for many years in the hiddenness of Nazareth, the priest must often live in the uncertainty of the importance and fruitfulness of all his efforts. He can teach us what Pope Francis has called “a sense of mystery”. “'A sense of mystery' … involves knowing with certitude that all those who entrust themselves to God in love will bear good fruit (cf. Jn 15:5). This fruitfulness is often invisible, elusive and unquantifiable. We can know quite well that our lives will be fruitful, without claiming to know how, or where, or when. We may be sure that none of our acts of love will be lost, nor any of our acts of sincere concern for others.” (EG #279)

St. Joseph is the best teacher for us in understanding the mystery of virginal begetting which he inaugurated in his willingness to encounter our Lady with tenderness, in embracing her difference with the power of the Holy Spirit and in rejoicing at the mysterious fruitfulness that burst forth in their lives.

Originally published in the Theology of the Body Institute email newsletter

The Merciful Chair of St. Peter

The Second Vatican Council taught clearly about the authority of the Pope, the Successor of St. Peter. It is easy to misinterpret this power, given to one man, in purely secular terms, and to fear the damage he could do. With the help of Sacred Scripture and the reflections of Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger (who later became Pope Benedict XVI) , G.K. Chesterton, the Venerable Archbishop Fulton Sheen, and Pope Francis, however, we will see that papal primacy and the celebration of this mystery on the Feast of the Chair of St. Peter, are truly mysteries of God's boundless mercy.

Petrine primacy

In the Second Vatican Council's great teaching on the Church, with the Latin title Lumen Gentium, we get a clear presentation of the power entrusted to the Pope:

Just as in the Gospel, the Lord so disposing, St. Peter and the other apostles constitute one apostolic college, so in a similar way the Roman Pontiff, the successor of Peter, and the bishops, the successors of the apostles, are joined together. … But the college or body of bishops has no authority unless it is understood together with the Roman Pontiff, the successor of Peter as its head. The pope's power of primacy over all, both pastors and faithful, remains whole and intact. In virtue of his office, that is as Vicar of Christ and pastor of the whole Church, the Roman Pontiff has full, supreme and universal power over the Church. (Lumen Gentium #22)

Scriptural witnesses

The language of the Church in the Second Vatican Council including “primacy” and “full, supreme and universal power” developed its precision over time as it was elaborated throughout the history of the Church, but it finds its origin in the words spoken by Jesus to Peter in Sacred Scripture, “feed my lambs … tend my sheep … feed my sheep,” (John 21:15,16,17) and “I have prayed that your own faith may not fail; and once you have turned back, you must strengthen your brothers.” (Luke 22:32) We can look also to the affirmations of St. Paul who went specifically to Peter (Cephas) to confer with him on disputed points in the faith (Gal 1:18) and testifies that he did it specifically so that he “might not be running, or have run, in vain.” (Gal 2:2) It is also Peter who is identified by St. Paul as the first witness of the Resurrection (1 Cor 15:3-7) and in lists which vary in many details, Peter is named first in every listing of the twelve Apostles (Matthew 10:2-4, Mark 3:16-19, Luke 6:14-16 and Acts 1:13). Finally, the most well known passage, which is also the Gospel for the Mass for the Feast of the Chair of St. Peter, states persuasively, “You are Peter and on this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it. I will give you the keys to the kingdom of heaven. Whatever you bound on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.” (Matthew 16:18-19)

Peter's weakness

In reflecting on all these texts, however, we cannot take a triumphalist approach to Petrine primacy, because another point emerges more strongly–the mercy of God. Each scriptural affirmation of Jesus's choice of St. Peter to lead the Apostles and the Church is accompanied by an acknowledgement of Peter's weakness and failure. The commission from John 21 is interspersed with a threefold recognition of Peter's threefold betrayal. The call that Jesus gives to Peter in Luke 22 will take effect after Peter's recovery from his denial. When St. Paul affirms the role of Peter as a criterion for the authenticity of the Gospel in Galatians 1, he also recognizes the personal failure of Peter in Galatians 2:14. Finally, in the context of the power entrusted to Peter in Matthew 16, we find Peter chastised by Jesus immediately afterwards for being a stumbling block and failing to think as God does (Matthew 18:23).

Observations of Ratzinger, Chesterton, Sheen and Pope Francis

In light of these Scriptures, which Cardinal Ratzinger interpreted more carefully and thoroughly in the book Called to Communion, he concluded that Petrine primacy is really a doctrine of mercy. The choice of Peter, in the face of his profound weakness, shows that the Church is built on the rock of mercy and forgiveness:

This seems to me to be a cardinal point. At the inmost core of the new commission which robs the forces of the destruction of their power is the grace of forgiveness. It constitutes the Church. The Church is founded on forgiveness. Peter himself is a personal embodiment of this truth, for he is permitted to be the bearer of the keys after having stumbled, confessed and received the grace of pardon. The Church is by nature the home of forgiveness, and Peter is the perpetual living reminder of this reality: she [the Church] is not a communion of the perfect but a communion of sinners who need and seek forgiveness. Behind the talk of authority, God's power appears as mercy and thus as the foundation stone of the Church; in the background we hear the word of the Lord: “It is not the healthy who have need of the physician, but those who are ill; I have not come to all the righteous, but sinners.” (Mark 2:17) (Called to Communion, Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger)

Saint Paul expresses this principle clearly, sharing it from his own experience and relating the words of Jesus to him, “My grace is sufficient for you for power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Corinthians 12:9) He firmly embraces the same mystery that is manifested in Peter, “for when I am weak, then I am strong.” As Cardinal Ratzinger identified, the “Church is founded on forgiveness…she is not a communion of the perfect but a communion of sinners who need and seek forgiveness.”

G.K. Chesterton expressed the same truth in his own unique way, touched with humor, pointing out that by founding the Church on the weakness of Peter, Jesus subverted the wisdom of the world and according to the mystery of divine wisdom thus prevented the Church from suffering the ultimate collapse that worldly wisdom is subject to:

The thing which is valuable and lovable in our eyes is man—the old beer-drinking, creed-making, fighting, failing, sensual, respectable man. And the things that have been founded on this creature immortally remain; the things that have been founded on the fancy of the Superman have died with the dying civilizations which alone have given them birth. When Christ at a symbolic moment was establishing His great society, He chose for its corner-stone neither the brilliant Paul nor the mystic John, but a shuffler, a snob, a coward—in a word, a man. And upon this rock He has built His Church, and the gates of Hell have not prevailed against it. All the empires and the kingdoms have failed, because of this inherent and continual weakness, that they were founded by strong men and upon strong men. But this one thing, the historic Christian Church, was founded on a weak man, and for that reason it is indestructible. For no chain is stronger than its weakest link. —G. K. Chesterton, Heretics

The great televangelist Archbishop Fulton Sheen expressed it similarly, but in his own characteristic, poetic simplicity, “No chain is stronger than its weakest link, and the weakest link of the chain of Popes was the first. But that weak link was held in the hands of Christ. That is why the papacy will never fail.” (Quoted in Through the Year with Fulton Sheen)

Pope Francis reiterated this theme on the Feast of the Chair of St Peter in 2016 as he celebrated the Jubilee for the Roman Curia. He reminded those who support him in exercising St Peter's merciful power, that that power was originally and is still entrusted to weak and fallen men who are, therefore, in an even better position to seek out the lost, heal the sick and raise up their brothers from their sins:

Pastors, above all, are required to have as their model God Himself, who cares for His flock. The Prophet Ezekiel described God’s way of acting: He goes out in search of the lost sheep; He leads back the lost to the fold; He bandages the wounded and cares for the sick (34:16). A behavior that is a sign of a love that knows no bounds. It is a faithful, constant, unconditional dedication, that His mercy might reach all those who are weakest. And nevertheless, we must not forget that the prophecy of Ezekiel starts from the observation of the failures of the shepherds of Israel. (Pope Francis, homily, Chair of St Peter, translation by WAOB®)

Power Made Perfect in Weakness

From this vantage point we can revisit the teaching of the Second Vatican Council and see how the weakest man is placed in the center so that he can be a point of unity for all. “The Roman Pontiff, as the successor of Peter, is the perpetual and visible principle and foundation of unity of both the bishops and of the faithful.” (Lumen Gentium #24) After all, one thing that we all share is weakness and sin. Few are strong and none are sinless, so it makes divine sense that the principle of unity and cornerstone of the Church should be one who is deeply aware of his need for mercy so that the mercy of God can shine brightly through him. “Power is made perfect in weakness.”

Fasting is Romantic

“When you fast, do not look gloomy like the hypocrites.” These are among the words of Matthew’s Gospel that welcome us into Lent on Ash Wednesday. We are told to fast and not look gloomy, but why not? After all, don’t we feel gloomy? Hungry, a little weak, maybe a headache coming on and we have a lot of work to do and we are not sure if we are going to hold out the rest of the day without any food. We are not sure if this might be ruining our health and we don’t like it when our stomach is growling. Looking gloomy would seem to be simply honest. What is the point of fasting anyway?

In his 6th century Rule, St. Benedict teaches us that there is a connection between fasting and chastity. In his lengthy 4th chapter on the Tools for Good Works, St. Benedict instructs the monk “to love” only two of the tools: “to love chastity” and “to love fasting.” This follows the already centuries-old tradition of monastic wisdom regarding the interrelation of sense-desires, the desires that St. Thomas calls (and Blessed John Paul II refers to in ToB audience #54) the concupiscible appetites. Based on this connection we can draw some insight on fasting from St. John Paul II’s teaching in the Theology of the Body about chastity.

In Audience #54, St. John Paul II notes that chastity has a negative aspect: to master and overcome the “lustful passions.” This is an exercise of the virtue of temperance and is part of the path to purity. At the same time, St. John Paul II explains the teaching of St. Paul in 1 Thessalonians 4:3-5, noting that, “[t]he task of purity emphasized by the author of the letter is not only (and not so much) abstaining from ‘unchastity’ and from what leads to it, that is, abstaining from ‘lustful passions,’ but, at the same time, keeping one’s body, and indirectly that of the other, in ‘holiness and reverence.'” In short, St. John Paul II couples the negative “abstinence” with the positive “reverence” for the body. He couples the exterior negative self-denial with the interior positive attitude of reverence for the body that leads to purity of heart.

In fasting, also, we have a negative, self-denial of a sense-desire, a concupiscible appetite. At the same time (if we do not want to look gloomy) there must be a positive affirmation, a positive interior movement towards reverence for the body, holiness, and love. The key for this is given in Luke 5:35 where Jesus tells us, “The days will come, when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they will fast in those days.” Jesus connects the practice of fasting with love for the bridegroom. The desire for food becomes a desire for union with Christ–an attitude the Church has maintained from the earliest days. Indeed, the only current daily fast in the Roman Catholic Church is the fast before Holy Communion. We learn to relate the hunger pangs of empty stomachs with a preparation for Communion with Jesus Christ, the Divine Bridegroom. Fasting, like chastity, becomes a reverence for the Body. In short, given the motivation Jesus provides, in which fasting (like chastity) is an expression of longing and a preparation of the body for the Body of the Bridegroom, we might even say, “fasting is romantic.” In this light, we can better see how St. Benedict can encourage his monks “to love fasting” (and “to love chastity”) and we can see how Jesus can tell us not to look gloomy. Our growling stomachs are calling to us, “The Bridegroom is near! Let us go out to meet Him!”

This article was originally written for the Theology of the Body Institute e-newsletter.

Here is a homily I preached for the Franciscan TOR Sisters that expands on this topic:

The Importance of Mary’s Body in Our Faith

One week before the beginning of the Year of Faith, Pope Benedict XVI made a pilgrimage to the shrine of our Lady, her Holy House in Loreto, Italy. He did this to entrust the Year of Faith to her intercession. This physical gesture of pilgrimage and prayer (he even lit a candle!) incarnated his words at the end of his Apostolic Letter Porta Fidei for the indiction of the Year of Faith, “Let us entrust this time of grace to the Mother of God, proclaimed ‘blessed because she believed’ (Lk 1:45).” But, stepping back, we might ask, “Why Mary? Why Loreto?” Before answering those questions, first we should ask, “What is the goal of the Year of Faith?”

Pope Benedict writes in Porta Fidei, “The Year of Faith…is a summons to an authentic and renewed conversion to the Lord, the one Saviour of the world.” A “renewed conversion to the Lord” means turning away from lies and turning towards the Truth. The lies entice us to reduce ourselves, our future, our hope to something much less than God has made us to be. So, if I might paraphrase, during this Year of Faith, Pope Benedict wants us to rediscover who God is and, in light of that, to rediscover the greatness of who we are made to be, the greatness of our destiny, and then, in faith, to take a step in that direction.

With this in mind, we can understand the importance of Mary for the Year of Faith. In her, we come to a clearer vision of God, a clearer vision of God’s love for us, and a discovery of the true greatness of our human nature, a discovery of what we are called to, a discovery of our destiny. Furthermore, we can learn from Mary how to take a step away from the reduced vision of the human person offered to us by the world and a step towards embracing the greatness of the human person revealed by God in Jesus Christ.

Let us see how Pope Benedict explains this in his homily from Mass celebrated a week before the Year of Faith at the Holy House in Loreto. Please allow me to quote at length before reflecting on the Holy Father’s words:

Mary offered her very body; she placed her entire being at the disposal of God’s will, becoming the “place” of his presence, a “place” of dwelling for the Son of God. We are reminded here of the words of the Psalm with which, according to the Letter to the Hebrews, Christ began his earthly life, saying to the Father, “Sacrifices and offering you have not desired, but you have prepared a body for me… Behold, I have come to do your will, O God” (10:5,7). To the Angel who reveals God’s plan for her, Mary replies in similar words: “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord; let it be done to me according to your word” (Lk 1:38). The will of Mary coincides with the will of the Son in the Father’s unique project of love and, in her, heaven and earth are united, God the Creator is united to his creature. God becomes man, and Mary becomes a “living house” for the Lord, a temple where the Most High dwells. Pope Benedict XVI, Homily from Loreto, October 4, 2012

Pope Benedict explains to us that Mary’s very body became the meeting place of heaven and earth, the place where the Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us, a “living house” for the Lord. What we discover in Mary, then, is the great dignity of the human being. No other creature, not even the angels, can be a dwelling place of God—only human beings, only the human body can be a living house for the Lord. We can have heaven within us.

What a different vision of the human person this is in comparison to what the world offers. We are not just a cog in the wheel of production. We are not merely consumers, who can be manipulated by advertising and enslaved by our appetites. We are not the servants of science on a path to world domination. We cannot be reduced to the sum of our failures, nor to the sum of our successes. Our life is not valuable only in so far as we have possessions, power, and pleasure in this world. Our life is valuable because we are made to be the living house of God. From the unborn child to the terminally ill, from the severely mentally challenged to the most brilliant genius, from the quadriplegic to the Olympic athlete, every human being is made, like our Lady, to be the meeting place of heaven and earth. That is what defines us.

Unfortunately, this destiny cannot be realized unless we are willing to be open to the Lord. God is willing—that is the source of our dignity—but are we willing? What is holding us back? The problem is that we are blinded by a lie, corrupted by a poison that goes all the way back to Adam and Eve. We always knew that we were made for heaven, made to be filled with God, made to be like God, but, at the serpent’s urging, we go about it in the wrong way. Hearkening back to the passage of Adam’s sin in Genesis 3, Pope Benedict summarizes, “What picture does this passage show us? The human being does not trust God. Tempted by the serpent, he harbours the suspicion that in the end, God takes something away from his life, that God is a rival who curtails our freedom and that we will be fully human only when we have cast him aside; in brief, that only in this way can we fully achieve our freedom.” Homily from December 8, 2005

When we allow this poison to take hold in our hearts and we see God as a rival, then His commandments become a threat, a plot to steal our freedom, a plot to take away the fun in life. Suspicious of God, we carve out a part of our life and keep it away from Him. This attitude, in the modern day, leads to the cry to keep God out of the bedroom or to keep God out of politics. In whatever area of life that we try to keep God away from, it is because we do not trust Him to bless that part of our life, to fill it with heaven. We think that only when we are in control, when we are free to do whatever we want, that our life will be filled with heaven.

What we discover, however, is that when we keep God out by insisting on control, we also keep love out. Love does not exist in an environment of control, but in an environment of openness and trust. Pope Benedict says, “it is precisely God who liberates our liberty, he frees it from being closed in on itself, from the thirst for power, possessions, and domination; he opens it up to the dimension which completely fulfils it: the gift of self, of love, which in turn becomes service and sharing.” Homily from Loreto, October 4, 2012 Being closed in on ourselves, being in control through power, possessions and domination is not heaven. To the contrary, it is a radical isolation, being locked up entirely in ourselves. It is hell! Only God draws us out of ourselves to become the gift of love we were made to be.

In this light we see the wisdom of the Second Vatican Council’s Pastoral Constitution on the Modern World, Gaudium et Spes, “man… cannot fully find himself except through a sincere gift of himself.” (#24) We are filled with heaven when we make a gift of ourselves. In this, and so many other teachings of the Second Vatican Council, we see that Blessed John XXIII’s prayer to the Virgin of Loreto was answered: “Here at Loreto fifty years ago, Blessed John XXIII issued an invitation to contemplate this mystery, to ‘reflect on that union of heaven and earth, which is the purpose of the Incarnation and Redemption,’ and he went on to affirm that the aim of the Council itself was to spread ever wider the beneficent impact of the Incarnation and Redemption on all spheres of life.” Pope Benedict XVI’s Homily from Loreto, October 4, 2012

At the heart of the Year of Faith is this rediscovery of who we are, in light of the Incarnation and Redemption. Our bodies are made to be the meeting place of heaven and earth, living houses of God. Our task for the Year of Faith is first to believe this and then to let this truth reach into every corner of our lives until we experience a total conversion to the Lord. We look to Mary for this, as Pope Benedict said in Loreto, “As we contemplate Mary, we must ask if we too wish to be open to the Lord, if we wish to offer our life as his dwelling place; or if we are afraid that the presence of God may somehow place limits on our freedom, if we wish to set aside a part of our life in such a way that it belongs only to us.”

Concretely, in this Year of Faith, Pope Benedict is asking us to look back to those seminal teachings in Vatican II where we can learn who God is and who we are. He directs us also to the Catechism which is, as he says, one of the most important fruits of the Second Vatican Council. Furthermore, as a daily practice we are encouraged to take up the Creed as part of our daily prayer. We can remember that the interpretive key for all that teaching is the fundamental truth that God has made us to be His dwelling place and He wants to fill us with heaven.

In this article, we have allowed the mystery of the Annunciation to shine light on the Year of Faith. It would take another article to see how Mary guides us in the other dimension of the Year of Faith—in light of the mystery of the Visitation. Having been filled with God in the Annunciation, it is in the Visitation that Mary brought Jesus to her cousin Elizabeth, and by extension, to all who are in need. This follows the impulse of the New Evangelization, noted by Pope Benedict in Porta Fidei: “Caritas Christi urget nos.” (2 Cor 5:14) The Love of Christ impels us to share this gift of faith with others, to counteract the lie that self-sufficiency is heaven, and to open the heart of each person to be, like the womb of the Virgin Mary, filled with heaven.

To return to the question stated above, then, we can see now how important our Lady is. Heaven and earth come together in her and she teaches us how to be her little children, little Mary’s, such that heaven and earth can also come together in our bodies. With her faith in our hearts, heaven and earth come together in us. Let us conclude with Pope Benedict’s own prayer from the end of his homily in Loreto, “Mother of the ‘yes’, you who heard Jesus, speak to us of him; tell us of your journey, that we may follow him on the path of faith; help us to proclaim him, that each person may welcome him and become the dwelling place of God. Amen!”

(Published originally in the Theology of the Body Institute online newsletter October 25, 2012)

Birthdays, Celebration and Mercy

In our culture, birthdays have become days of celebration for the individual who was born. Pope Francis taught us that celebration is the “invention of God” and comes after hard work. “God himself teaches us the importance of dedicating time to contemplate and enjoy what has been done well in work. I speak of work, naturally, not only in the sense of employment and profession, but in the broader sense: every action by which we as men and women cooperate in God’s creative work.” Francis, Audience, 12 August 2015 Pope Francis explains that in the light of Genesis 1: all celebration originates in God's “celebration” on the seventh day when He looked back on all He had done and saw that it was very good.

Birthdays

In light of this, what is a birthday celebration? Clearly a birth, which comes, more or less, nine months after the conception of a new human life in the womb of the mother, is an example of when “men and women cooperate in God's creative work.” Furthermore, a birth comes immediately after the work that we even call “labor.” A mother labors to bring a child into the world. In fact, she has already been laboring in various ways over the previous nine months, from morning sickness in the first months, to the discomfort of the changes in her body, changes in her eating, changes in her routine, changes in what she is able to accomplish, preparations for welcoming the new baby, changes in her future plans, perhaps, anticipation of the work that is forthcoming and the many years of committed loving service that lie ahead. We are focusing on the mother here, but, of course, a good father is also involved in many of these labors as he supports his wife in her child bearing.

Often we celebrate events after many, many years–a silver jubilee or a golden jubilee, for example. In the case of a child birth, we celebrate after only nine months. That teaches us how important a child is and how great the labor has been to care for that child in the first months of his or her life and to prepare to parent that child for the rest of life, with particular intensity for a couple of decades. Furthermore, God blesses that celebration with a significant feature, also indicating His intention that we celebrate the great moment of child birth: the moment of child birth can be seen as a special analogue to God's experience of looking back on creation. He looked back each day and saw that it was “good,” but on the seventh day, the great day of celebration, He saw that it was “very good.” The joy of God and the joy of parents, that makes them say it is “very good,” is the sight of a human face and the sound of a human voice. A baby's birthday is the first time we are able to see his or her face and hear his or her voice.

Mercy

Another special quality of the nine months of labor that precede birth, is the place where the baby is being formed–the mother's womb. Let us reflect on the significance of this choice of God–that each of us would spend nine months in a mother's womb before our face and our voice would be revealed to the world. We can reflect on the qualities of the womb at length, but let us consider just a couple of those qualities. In the womb, a baby is entirely enfolded in the body of a mother. It is like a hug that is so total and so tight that the one being embraced is taken entirely into the other. That's a very loving embrace! Furthermore, in the womb, the baby rests constantly beneath the heart of the mother. In the womb, the baby's oxygen passes first through the lungs of the mother. The baby's food is first digested by the mother. Everything the baby receives is chosen, consumed and prepared by the mother. In this way, a good mother filters, by her choice and her body, anything that would harm the baby. Likewise, a good mother thoughtfully and intentionally lives her life as a constant act of love for her baby, with every breath, every decision, every action now impacting another human life that is radically vulnerable and subject to her care.

In this human reality of a mother's womb, God teaches us about His own essence–mercy. “In the prophetic tradition, mercy is strictly related – even on the etymological level – to the maternal womb (rahamim).” Pope Francis, Message for Lent 2016. In other words, in God's design, every human being is intended to spend nine months in mercy before being revealed to the world. Furthermore, as described earlier, this mercy that a baby receives, is a labor, involving both mother and father. Lastly, the joy of birth, perhaps the greatest natural joy–to behold the face of a new human life–is the joy that comes after months of mercy. This is expressed on the supernatural level in the Gospel. Jesus exclaims about the joy and celebration that comes through mercy, “there will be rejoicing among the angels of God over one sinner who repents.” (Luke 15:10). To summarize, we can say that in God's design, mercy is the labor that gives birth to new life and brings us to the joyful celebration of beholding a new human face and hearing a new human voice.

Perhaps these reflections will enhance our celebration of birthdays in a few ways. Namely, let us remember the important labor of parents, especially mothers, whose labor cooperated with God to conceive new life and nurture that new life and bring it to birth. Their cooperation with God gave us the joy of beholding that new, adorable, little human face and hearing that human voice for the first time. Furthermore, let us take note that the joy of a birthday is the joy of mercy. By receiving the Father's mercy, we can have a birthday every day. Every time we turn our hearts back to the Lord, we are reborn through the labor of Jesus on the Cross who has carried us in His Heart before giving birth to us again through His pierced side.

The Popes Call Us to Mercy

Pope Francis does not speak of mercy as a passing fad or a personal devotion, but as the movement of the Holy Spirit in our time. In speaking to all the priests of Rome he said, “we are…here…to hear the voice of the Spirit speaking to the whole Church of our time, which is the time of mercy. I am sure of this. …we are living in a time of mercy, and have been for 30 years or more, up to today. In the Church, everything is the time of mercy. This was an intuition of Bl. John Paul II. He 'sensed' that this was the time of mercy.” (Pope Francis, Address to the priests of Rome, March 6, 2014) These were words spoken in a somewhat informal setting, but on later reflection, in his official inauguration of the Jubilee Year of Mercy, Pope Francis asserted that this time of mercy goes back more than 30 years and really stems from the Second Vatican Council. He quoted Pope St John XXIII's Opening Address of the Council as proof of this, “Now the Bride of Christ wishes to use the medicine of mercy rather than taking up arms of severity … The Catholic Church, as she holds high the torch of Catholic truth at this Ecumenical Council, wants to show herself a loving mother to all; patient, kind, moved by compassion and goodness toward her separated children.” (Pope Francis, Misericordiae Vultus #3)

What is mercy?

Pope Francis explained mercy by saying, ” 'misericordia' [mercy], a Latin word whose etymological meaning is 'miseris cor dare', to 'give the heart to the wretched', those in need, those who are suffering. … love freely given for the suffering and the weak. From the Gospel narratives we are able to understand the closeness, the goodness, the tenderness with which Jesus drew in the suffering people and consoled them, comforted them, and often healed them.” (Address to the Misericordiae Society of Italy, June 14, 2014) For the one who has mercy, suffering and weakness are not repulsive, but attractive. The one who has mercy seeks out misery in order to give his heart to the wretched.

Mercy transforms our culture of waste into a culture of encounter and solidarity

“A bruised reed he will not break, and a dimly burning wick he will not quench.” (Isaiah 42:3) The mindset of Christ, who is “the face of mercy”, is radically different from the mindset of worldly power. Worldly power despises what is weak. Worldly power exploits weakness or seeks to ignore it, and if it becomes a burden it simply eliminates it. The insidious extreme of this attitude was lived out in Nazi Regime through the T4 program. A questionnaire was sent to medical institutions to ascertain patients' abilities to work, and also whether they suffered from various chronic neurological disorders including schizophrenia, epilepsy, dementia, and encephalitis, in addition to those who were institutionalized because they had committed crimes. Throughout World War II, some 200,000 of those who “burdened” society with their weaknesses were systematically identified and eliminated. This is what Pope Francis has called a “culture of waste”.

Mercy, on the other hand, seeks out the lost sheep and welcomes home the repentant sinner (Luke 15). Mercy, as Pope Francis repeatedly explains it, fosters a “culture of encounter.” Rather than keeping weakness at arm's length, or even throwing it away, mercy seeks out and personally encounters those who are weak. Pope Francis has often asked the question, “When you give alms, do you touch the poor man's hand? Do you look him in the eye?” Pope Francis has taught us that the poor and the weak are not a “sociological” category, but a “theological” category. They are the very flesh of Christ. Pope Francis has often said, Jesus has begun a “revolution of tenderness” by coming among us in the flesh. In Jesus, the Word made flesh, God has come close to us to encounter us, to be able to touch us and look into our eyes.

Mercy is also the foundation of a “culture of solidarity.” Rather than seeing misery and weakness as someone else's problem or something foreign to me, mercy identifies itself with weakness, bending down to embrace weakness, to share in suffering, to see each person as a brother or sister. In answer to Cain's question, “Am I my brother's keeper?” (Genesis 4:10), Pope Francis responds with an emphatic “Yes!” This is the basis of a culture of solidarity, which was begun by Christ Himself when He made us all brothers and sisters and taught us to pray with Him, “Our Father.”

Mercy is a “field hospital after battle.” Rather than focusing on who is right and who is wrong, mercy draws close and shows tenderness and understanding. Like a field hospital after battle, mercy stops the bleeding before checking for high cholesterol or blood sugar levels. Mercy focuses on healing the wounds. Pope Francis has asked us to make the Church a ” 'field hospital' with doors wide open to whoever knocks in search of help and support; even more, to reach out to others with true love, to walk with our fellow men and women who suffer, to include them and guide them to the wellspring of salvation” (Homily for the Opening Mass of the 14th Ordinary Synod of Bishops)

Receiving mercy

The mindset of worldly power–the exploitation and destruction of weakness–has an inherent contradiction in that every human being has weakness. Even those who hold worldly power and for a time can avoid or despise the weakness of others, eventually have to face their own powerlessness. Perhaps it is in the face of their own sickness or the sickness of a loved one. Perhaps it is in some failure at work or at home. Perhaps it is in some habitual personal sin that they cannot overcome. Those who refuse to give mercy will also seek to live without mercy and their mercilessness will turn in on themselves.

When we open our hearts to mercy, however, by admitting our weaknesses and accepting the unearned, unconditional, freely given love of God, our hearts also grow tender for the weaknesses of others. Likewise, when we allow ourselves to see with the eyes of Jesus and allow ourselves to be attracted to the weaknesses of others, we will be more willing to humbly open our hearts to the mercy of God. “The more deeply stirred we are by the Lord's mercy, the greater the solidarity we feel with his suffering – and we become willing to complete in our own flesh 'what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ' (Col 1: 24).” (Cardinal Ratzinger, Homily for the Election of the Pontiff, April 18, 2005) Unlike the path of worldly power, the path of mercy has no internal contradictions. It is built on the gratuitous and unending love of God. It is a force that can change our hearts and can change our culture. The path of mercy is truly the path to inner peace.

All of us, as members of the Church can heed this call of Pope Francis, a call that brings us hope: “The time has come for the Church to take up the joyful call to mercy once more. It is time to return to the basics and to bear the weaknesses and struggles of our brothers and sisters. Mercy is the force that reawakens us to new life and instils in us the courage to look to the future with hope.” (Pope Francis, Bull of Indiction for the Jubilee Year of Mercy #10)

Father Boniface Hicks, OSB

A monk in the service of the Church