Today is the 33rd anniversary of Pope John Paul I’s death. I do plan to put up one of his writings today as a commemoration, but first I thought it would be fun to put up a roundup of links. I’ll add to it later if I can.
In fact, this one is just too great not to put up again - it is from his last public audience on September 27, 1978, and gives his thoughts on how to progress in the love of God — with the help of a little boy from the audience:
At his unexpected death, John Paul I was succeeded by Karol Cardinal Wojtyla, the Archbishop of Cracow, someone who seemed vastly different in personality. But they were fundamentally alike in many ways. One important way was that they had seen the worst of the bloodiest century in history: the twentieth century; the century of relativism, of secularization; and what now seems like perhaps the definitive de-Christianization of Europe that began after the last world war. The world John Paul I and his successor saw had not yet gone as far as it has now, but it was rapidly becoming numbed to moral questions, had no real belief in God as Father, or the possibility of mercy for sins. Luciani and Wojtyla were friends as cardinals, and certainly must have shared their concerns with each other about the loss of the Christian sense in the world and the need for mercy. It was undoubtedly his understanding of this need for mercy that led John Paul I to stress God’s tender and even maternal compassion as he did.
Thirty-two years ago today, on August 26, 1979, the first anniversary of John Paul I’s election, his successor traveled to his native region. He consecrated a little shrine of the Virgin on Mt. Marmolada, the highest peak in the Dolomites. In John Paul I’s native village, Canale D’Agordo, he met with his predecessor’s family in their home, and celebrated Mass in the village square, where he spoke of the themes of John Paul I’s pontificate, including one that had been much talked about:
. . . . Here we find another trait of Papa Albino Luciani and his mission: the love of God the Father. . . . John Paul I recalled with unusual vigor the love of God for us, his creatures, comparing it, in the great line of Old Testament prophecy, not only to the love of a Father but to the tenderness of a mother for her children: he did it in the September 10 Angelus, with these words, that so struck public opinion: “We are the object of an undying love on God’s part. We know: he always has his eye on us, even when it seems to us that it is night.” And in the general audience of September 13: “God has such tender love for use, even more tender than that which a mama has for her children, Isaiah says.” (cf. also General audience of September 27, 1978).
From this unshakable sense of God, we can understand how my predecessor made the principle object of his Wednesday catechesis the theological virtues, which are such because they come from God, and are his uncreated gift and infused in us in baptism. And on the teaching of charity, the theological virtue that has God as source and principle, as model and as prize, and that will never come to an end, the earthly page of John Paul I closed, or rather, opened forever, in eternity face to face with God, who he so loved and taught others to love.
It is interesting to note that in recalling the controversial remark, he did not quote the actual words that “so struck public opinion”: “God is father, even more a mother” from the September 10 Angelus. Instead he substituted the words from September 13, in which John Paul I had expressed more clearly that the greater tenderness in maternal love of God did not represent the superiority of one sex over the other, but only a change of emphasis due to the nature of maternal love (see Part IV).
At any rate, John Paul II clearly confirmed what his predecessor did, in the face of the widespread public criticism. of the year before. In fact, he not only confirmed it, he was to continue it. John Paul I had concentrated mainly on our reaction to God’s maternal love; to the trusting attitude that it should inspire in us; John Paul II spoke in much more detail about the biblical roots and nature of this love in his encyclical Dives in Misericordia (Rich in Mercy), which was issued in November 1980.
This is the second of John Paul II’s encyclicals; along with two others, it forms a trilogy; the first, Redeemer of Man (1979) speaks of Jesus Christ, the third Lord and Giver of Life (1986) the third person, the Holy Spirit; Rich in Mercy (1980) speaks of God the Father as a God of mercy and love. In the text, the Pope discussed several key images of God’s love, including that of Israel a the bride of God. Referring to a footnote, no. 52, the discussion continues with a look back at the language used for God’s mercy in the Old Testament.
In describing mercy, the books of the Old Testament use two expressions in particular, each having a different semantic nuance. First there is the term hesed, which indicates a profound attitude of “goodness.” When this is established between two individuals, they do not just wish each other well; they are also faithful to each other by virtue of an interior commitment, and therefore also by virtue of a faithfulness to themselves. Since hesed also means “grace” or “love,” this occurs precisely on the basis of this fidelity. The fact that the commitment in question has not only a moral character but almost a juridical one makes no difference. When in the Old Testament the word hesed is used of the Lord, this always occurs in connection with the covenant that God established with Israel. This covenant was, on God’s part, a gift and a grace for Israel. Nevertheless, since, in harmony with the covenant entered into, God had made a commitment to respect it, hesed also acquired in a certain sense a legal content. The juridical commitment on God’s part ceased to oblige whenever Israel broke the covenant and did not respect its conditions. But precisely at this point, hesed, in ceasing to be a juridical obligation, revealed its deeper aspect: it showed itself as what it was at the beginning, that is, as love that gives, love more powerful than betrayal, grace stronger than sin.
This fidelity vis-a-vis the unfaithful “daughter of my people”(cf. Lam. 4:3, 6) is, in brief, on God’s part, fidelity to Himself. This becomes obvious in the frequent recurrence together of the two terms hesed we’ve met (= grace and fidelity), which could be considered a case of hendiadys (cf. e.g. Ex. 34:6; 2 Sm. 2:6; 15:20; Ps. 25[24]:10; 40[39]:11-12; 85[84]:11; 138[137]:2; Mi. 7:20). “It is not for your sake, O house of Israel, that I am about to act, but for the sake of my holy name” (Ez. 36:22). Therefore Israel, although burdened with guilt for having broken the covenant, cannot lay claim to God’s hesed on the basis of (legal) justice; yet it can and must go on hoping and trusting to obtain it, since the God of the covenant is really “responsible for his love.” The fruits of this love are forgiveness and restoration to grace, the reestablishment of the interior covenant.
The second word which in the terminology of the Old Testament serves to define mercy is rahamim. This has a different nuance from that of hesed. While hesed highlights the marks of fidelity to self and of “responsibility for one’s own love” (which are in a certain sense masculine characteristics), rahamim, in its very root, denotes the love of a mother (rehem = mother’s womb). From the deep and original bond-indeed the unity-that links a mother to her child there springs a particular relationship to the child, a particular love. Of this love one can say that it is completely gratuitous, not merited, and that in this aspect it constitutes an interior necessity: an exigency of the heart. It is, as it were, a “feminine” variation of the masculine fidelity to self expressed by hesed. Against this psychological background, rahamim generates a whole range of feelings, including goodness and tenderness, patience and understanding, that is, readiness to forgive.
The Old Testament attributes to the Lord precisely these characteristics when it uses the term rahamim in speaking of Him. We read in Isaiah: “Can a woman forget her suckling child, that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you” (Is. 49:15). This love, faithful and invincible thanks to the mysterious power of motherhood, is expressed in the Old Testament texts in various ways: as salvation from dangers, especially from enemies; also as forgiveness of sins-of individuals and also of the whole of Israel; and finally in readiness to fulfill the (eschatological) promise and hope, in spite of human infidelity, as we read in Hosea: “I will heal their faithlessness, I will love them freely” (Hos. 14:5).
This is the most important part for my purposes, but who whole footnote is certainly worth reading. Here is a great deal of the background (which John Paul I, an excellent theologian, would certainly have known too) for the biblical language expressing God’s mercy in a maternal way.
The centerpiece of the encyclical is a discussion of the story of the prodigal son:
The father’s fidelity to himself - a trait already known by the Old Testament term hesed - is at the same time expressed in a manner particularly charged with affection. We read, in fact, that when the father saw the prodigal son returning home “he had compassion, ran to meet him, threw his arms around his neck and kissed him.”64 He certainly does this under the influence of a deep affection, and this also explains his generosity towards his son
And here is the conclusion.
Everything that I have said in the present document on mercy should therefore be continually transformed into an ardent prayer: into a cry that implores mercy according to the needs of man in the modern world. May this cry be full of that truth about mercy which has found such rich expression in Sacred Scripture and in Tradition, as also in the authentic life of faith of countless generations of the People of God. With this cry let us, like the sacred writers, call upon the God who cannot despise anything that He has made, the God who is faithful to Himself, to His fatherhood and His love. And, like the prophets, let us appeal to that love which has maternal characteristics and which, like a mother, follows each of her children, each lost sheep, even if they should number millions, even if in the world evil should prevail over goodness, even if contemporary humanity should deserve a new “flood” on account of its sins, as once the generation of Noah did. Let us have recourse to that fatherly love revealed to us by Christ in His messianic mission, a love which reached its culmination in His cross, in His death and resurrection. (emphasis mine)
The concept of God as mother after this began to move from the footnotes of John Paul II’s thought about God toward the center; it never really become central, but repeatedly the image of mother appears alongside that of father, and seems to be surer and better integrated as time goes on.
Almost twenty years after Rich in Mercy, John Paul II returned to this theme in a big way. He declared 1999, the year leading up to the great Jubilee of 2000, The Year of the Father. He carried on a catechesis about this at his Wednesday audiences that lasted throughout the year; he began by noting that the concept of God as a father also occurred in the religions of the ancient world, but the fatherhood was that conceived by the patriarchal system; the god was often capricious and willful. As Homer said: “Father Zeus, you are the most deadly of gods: you take no pity on men after begetting them and abandoning them to misfortune and oppressive sorrows” (Odyssey XX, 201-203).; even in the most benign treatments, the god would punish without obvious reason. (Audience of January 13, 1999).
The people of Israel, under the guidance of divine revelation, also saw God as father, often a severe and demanding father, but one who intervened time and time again to save Israel, and offered a unique covenant to his people. “And [God] expresses it,” the Pope says, “in terms of deep tenderness, even when he is forced to lament his children’s lack of response: ‘It was I who taught Ephraim to walk, I took them up in my arms; but they did not know that I healed them. I led thm with cords of compassion, with the bands of love; I fostered them like one who raises an infant to his cheeks, and I bent down to them and fed them…. How can I give you up, O Ephraim! How can I hand you over O Israel? … My heart recoils within me, my compassion grows warm and tender’ (Hos 11:3f., 8; Jer 31:20).”
And the refrain of a mother’s love from Isaiah comes back again.
Such a divine fatherhood, which at the same time is so “human” in its forms of expression, includes all the features which are usually attributed to a mother’s love. Although rare, the Old Testament images in which God is compared to a mother are extremely significant. We read, for example, in the Book of Isaiah: “Zion said, “The Lord has forsaken me, my Lord has forgotten me”. “Can a woman forget her suckling child, that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb?”. Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you” (Is 49:14-15). And again: “As one whom his mother comforts, so I will comfort you” (Is 66:13).
Thus, God’s attitude to Israel also appears with maternal features, which express tenderness and understanding.
(Audience of January 20, 1999)
John Paul II’s famous Abba Pater CD was released in March 1999, very shortly after these audiences; in it we find the following (with the helpful translation below).
TRANSLATION:
1:03
You are My son, today I have begotten you.
1:11
I will be a father to him, and he shall be a son to Me.
1:18
These are prophetic words. They speak of God, who is the Father
1:25
in the highest and most authentic sense of the word.
1:32
Isaiah says: “Lord, You are our Father
1:39
we are the clay, and You are our potter;
1:47
we are all the work of Your hands.”
2:00
Zion said, “The Lord has forsaken me, my Lord has forgotten me.”
2:10
Can a woman forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne?
2:17
Though she may forget, I will not forsake you
2:34
It is significant that in the passages from the prophet Isaiah…
2:40
the paternity of God is filled with images inspired by maternity.
2:51
Jesus refers again and again to the paternity of God in regard to mankind
2:59
by alluding to numerous passages contained in the Old Testament.
3:06
For Jesus, God is not only the Father of Israel and the Father of mankind,
3:12
but also his Father and my Father.
Our Father who art in Heaven . . .
John Paul II returned more than once during this year to the parable of the Prodigal Son and his return to the Father who is “Rich in Mercy” (Audience of February 17, 1999). He gave it a warmer and more emotional color and a more definite emphasis on the maternal aspect of God’s love.
The father who embraces his lost son is the definitive icon of God revealed by Christ. He is first and above all a father. It is God the Father who extends his blessing and merciful arms, always waiting, never forcing any of his children. His hands hold, embrace, give vigor, and at the same time comfort, console and caress. They are the hands of a father and a mother at the same time.
The merciful father of the parable has in himself, while transcending them, all of the characteristics of fatherhood and motherhood. In embracing the son he shows the profile of a mother.” When he throws his arms around his son’s neck, he resembles a mother who caresses her child and surrounds him with her warmth. We can understand, in the light of this revelation of the face and the heart of God the Father, the Word of Jesus, which disconcerts human logic: “There will be greater joy in heaven over one sinner who converts, than for the ninety-nine just ones who have no need of conversion…” (Audience of September 8, 1999)
The Catechism of the Catholic Church, which was published during John Paul II’s pontificate, sums up his teaching:
239 By calling God “Father”, the language of faith indicates two main things: that God is the first origin of everything and transcendent authority; and that he is at the same time goodness and loving care for all his children. God’s parental tenderness can also be expressed by the image of motherhood (Is 66:13; Ps 131:2),which emphasizes God’s immanence, the intimacy between Creator and creature. the language of faith thus draws on the human experience of parents, who are in a way the first representatives of God for man. But this experience also tells us that human parents are fallible and can disfigure the face of fatherhood and motherhood. We ought therefore to recall that God transcends the human distinction between the sexes. He is neither man nor woman: he is God. He also transcends human fatherhood and motherhood, although he is their origin and standard (Cf. Ps 27:10; Eph 3:14; Is 49:15); no one is father as God is Father.
The climax of John Paul II’s teaching on God’s tender mercy came when he canonized St. Faustina Kowalska and proclaimed the Sunday after Easter Divine Mercy Sunday on April 30, 2000, during the celebration of the Jubilee. He also brought to a climax his predecessor’s hope that the people of the 20th and 21st centuries, perhaps more in need of forgiveness than any before them, would have this mercy from a God who has the tenderness of both a father and a mother. The result is the joyous affirmation of salvation and the renewal of the world:
And you, Faustina, a gift of God to our time, a gift from the land of Poland to the whole Church, obtain for us an awareness of the depth of divine mercy; help us to have a living experience of it and to bear witness to it among our brothers and sisters. May your message of light and hope spread throughout the world, spurring sinners to conversion, calming rivalries and hatred and opening individuals and nations to the practice of brotherhood. Today, fixing our gaze with you on the face of the risen Christ, let us make our own your prayer of trusting abandonment and say with firm hope: Christ Jesus, I trust in you! Jezu, ufam tobie! (Homily of April 30, 2000).
John Paul II also explored the God as Father and Mother theme in other ways, but that will be for next time.
I have thought the same thing myself. Papa Luciani’s words on the day of his death “Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God…. he is the king of the new world; he is the secret of history; he is the key to our destiny” is a true foreunner to the papacy of John Paul II, who took up the challenge in his magnificent homily on the day of his papal inauguration: “Do not be afraid. Open wide the doors for Christ. To his saving power open the boundaries of States, economic and political systems, the vast fields of culture, civilization and development. Do not be afraid. Christ knows “what is in man”. He alone knows it.”
But this isn’t the only reason for thinking that Papa Luciani was a proponent of the new evangelization before the word even existed. He often had occasion to lament, both as a priest and as bishop in the 1960’s that the traditional faith of the people the Veneto often lacked serious roots. Only too often it was mere convention, not based on a living and life-giving relationship with Jesus Christ.
This conviction has very deep roots in his life. In May 1946, right at the end of WWII, he wrote this in the diocesan newspaper, L’Amico del Popolo:
. . . for how many people these days does Christ hold out his arms in vain?
Directly , over this world persuaded by hatred and discord, he preaches love. Over the ruins, over the destruction of what once was, he cries, “I, I alone am the Resurrection and the Life. Come!”
But how many will come? How many will reconcile themselves with him, making a firm pact of friendship? The Easter pact? How many, on the other hand, will pass by him without recognizing him? They will look for reconstruction in a political party, in a man, in a program, in everything except in Him.
This is the tremendous drama that is experienced especially at Easter: People who live in the midst of Christianity, but without living Christianity and without knowing it!
Because of this conviction, Luciani stressed evangelization all during his time as a bishop. In Vittorio Veneto, not long after he arrived, he told the priests that the level of understanding of the Gospel was so low that they would have to give up other subjects for their homilies and concentrate on the basics, because most adults didn’t understand their faith.
Luciani once told a Capuchin friar in Venice that he had been criticized before the Council for his insistence on the Word of God as well as the sacraments: “Some people had judged me an innovator (perhaps a dangerous one), but the Council, with Dei Verbum, showed that I was right”. He explained that it is the word of God, when heard and assimilated, that generates and strengthens faith; this faith, in turn, makes reception of the sacrament effective and fruitful. How much more will people obey the precept of the Church to attend Mass when they understand what the Mass is and love it! They can’t be made to do so just by repeating that it is a sin to disobey a precet of the Church (Humilitas Italian ed., April 1997).
Unfortunately, the traditional faith in Venice was often not able to stand the gale force winds of secularization and relativism, but was all too often uprooted, to Luciani’’s distress.
Obviously as Pope he was planning to hold the banner of evangelization high! When he fell, his successor took it up, and as deacon Bob says, carried on the battle, which is yet to be won.
Let’s all pray for Pope Benedict XVI and the success of the new Evangelization!
“Today I have the joy of being able to meet the people of this lagoon. I come among you to solidify that deep bond of communion that historically unites you to the bishop of Rome, witnesses to which are above all the venerated Pastors of this patriarchal See who have gone on to the see of St. Peter; many of you still have a vivid memory of Patriarch Albino Luciani, son of these lands of the Veneto who became Pope with the name of John Paul I. . .” (Benedict XVI, to the people of Venice, May 7, 2011).
During all the excitement surrounding John Paul II’s beatification, I also had someone else very much on my mind — the little figure who has always stood in the shadow beside John Paul II during his pontificate. — his predecessor, John Paul I. Yet for those of us who actually remember him, he has a light of his own. I am offering here what may burn out to be an ongoing post as Benedict XVI visists Venice.
Deacon Bob Yerhot, who was in Rome for both the election of John Paul I and John Paul II — and in fact carried the cross as acolyte at Papa Luciani’s inaugural Mass — offers some very thoughtul and interesting commentary.
I think most of us . . . expected John Paul II to be an image of John Paul I…. perhaps a completion of what would have been should Luciani have had a longer life. It was only natural, I suppose, given he took Luciani’s name, came out of obscurity (at least to the common person at that time), our ongoing grief and shock over Luciani’s untimely death, and the desire we all had that the Church enter a new era of renewal.
Frankly, it was the perception of many that Wojtyla would be a “liberal” pope. What we got confused was the terms. Wojtyla was a pastoral pope (as no doubt Luciani was) but he was very orthodox (which Luciani was also, despite what may be some ill founded mythology about him). Wojtyla’s pastoralism extended even into his persistence in canonizing saints…. more than any other pope in history. He found sainthood in the common person, in many lay men and women, and he raised them to be honored by the universal Church. I don’t think we can call John Paul II a “liberal” in terms of his philosophy or theology — at least not in the contemporary meaning of the word “liberal” — but he was a man liberal in his use of the papacy for the common good of so many.
Some might protest that Luciani could never have been able to have written so masterfully the encyclicals Wojtyla wrote. I am not convinced of that. Luciani probably would not have written as many, given the age difference, but I suspect a Luciani encyclical would been every bit as rich as Wojtyla’s. Perhaps Luciani would have focused on other themes, but one of the biggest myths surrounding Luciani was he was a intellectual lightweight.
It is my hunch that in fact, we saw lived out in John Paul II the pontificate of John Paul I. I suspect that if Luciani would have been pope for twenty years, the crowds would have as forcefully, if not more so, shouted out at his funeral, Santo Subito!!
I certainly agree with this. In fact, John Paul I and John Paul II have more than one strong connection. Both of them not only unexpected choices for Pope, they few completely under the media radar. They seemed to come out of nowhere. Neither — in contrast to their predecessors and successors — had ever held a post in the Curia or the Church’s diplomatic corps. They spent their whole priestly careers as pastors and teachers. They were both consecrated bishops in the same year - 1958 — just months before Pope John announced in January 1959 that he was calling the Second Vatican Council. Their espiscopates were both strongly marked by the Council, as were their papacies. In spite of the clear differences in appearane and manner, they were alike in many other ways, especially in their common touch, their simplicity and directness in their approach to people, and their almost irreverent attitude to Vatican protocol. Paul VI was a modern man inside (I mean this in the best possible way) who because of his background and many years in the Curia was very reluctant to touch some external papal traditions, even though they caused great misunderstanding to those outside the Church. And he was always very conscious of the solemn dignity of his office, as it was then understood. His successors were both modern men even exteriorly, who understood the media and wanted to modernize those outward traditions to go directly to the people. That is why, among other reasons, John Paul I refused to be crowned the papal tiara and John Paul II refused to ever get on the sedia gestatoria. And they both had the same mischievous look in their eyes. . .
There are many other areas they had in common, for instance, their desire to elevate women through the Church’s teaching. Even in Venice, Luciani anticipated many things in Mulieris Dignitatem. There is strong evidence that he was as committed to the Church’s social teaching and to promoting the dignity of work as his predecessors and successors. I certainly agree he was fully intellectually capable of writing great encyclicals - undoubtedly with a very unusual literary bent. It’s also worth pointing out that given his frienship for and great admiration for Karol Wojtyla that Luciani would have relied a great deal on him as his pursued his action as Pope, just as John Paul II relied on Cardinal Ratzinger. (There is evidence for all this which will be in my book). I think if Papa Luciani had lived, we might well have had much of Wojtyla’s teaching with Luciani’s incomparable communication skills.
Deacon Bob is certainly right about this continuity between them and that John Paul II saw himself a working out the papacy of his immediate predecessor. In fact, in 1985, when he paid a visit to Luciani’s first diocese of Vittorio Veneto, he told the people there that he had not forgotten the example of their former bishop, saying: “His gentle figure is still alive in my heart. And it accompanies me constantly in the steps of the itinerary of universal pastor, that I undertook at the very point at which he had begun it.” (Address of June 15, 1985).
A Related Story: Among the stories I have read so far about Pope Benedict’s visit to Venice, this one stood out for a couple of reasons. It seems that the glass-blowers of Venice are offering Pope Benedict and the other priests officiating at Mass there in Mestre on May 8 some 60 beautiful hand-made chalices patens and cruets for liturgical use. They are made of glass with decorations of 24-karat gold leaf.
Some people have decided that this story is all about whether liturgical rules have been broken by having glass liturgical vessels instead of the traditional gold. But this kind of narrow-minded view really misses the bigger picture. The glasworkers of Venice do wonderful artistic work which is worthy of the dignity of the liturgy. I hope Pope Benedict thinks so too. And I think he may be remembering that the promotion of work and the dignity of workers is also part of Catholic teaching. The Italian web site which announces this reminds us that the glass-blowers of Venice are trying to maintain their thousand-year-old tradition of artistic work in the middle of a world-wide economic crisis.Their gift can be a real contribution not only to the beauty of the liturgy but to the success of their industry as well.
Perhaps I feel this way because the mere mention of the glassbowers of Venice evokes a kind of nostaglia in me — though I’ve never even seen one of their workshops, even on my memorable visit to Venice in 1985. No, this tender memory relates to Pope John Paul I. Hiis father, Giovanni Luciani, worked in a glass-blowing factory in Venice around 1910. He didn’t work so much in glass as in repairing the strong furnaces used to heat it, because he was an expert bricklayer. These were the days when lead poisoning from the red lead used for the glass was frequent and workers often had to be replaced. Giovanni wanted to fight for the rights of himself and his fellow workes for better wages and working conditions. While there in Venice, he met and married Bortola Tancon, and they raised a family, among them, Albino, the future Pope. In 1969, when Pope Paul VI named him Patriarch of Venice, Albino showed his dedication to the rights of the workers, and not surprisingly, the glassworkers of Murano were among his special friends. There is a picture of him (how I wish I could find it!) trying out a technique for blowing glass as the workers look on. So there is a much richer historical tradition behind this story than the nit-pickers could ever guess. I wonder if Pope Benedict will recall it tomorrow?
This type of historical tradition intrigues me. I’ll be looking for more of the same in the next few days.
Update: May 9, 2011
Here is Pope Benedct’s second mention of Papa Luciani during his visist to Venice (my translation from the Italian on the Vatican web site).
“Gratitude and joy therefore are the feelings that characterize our encounter. It is taking place in the sacred space, overflowing with art and memory, of the Basilica of St. Mark, where faith and human creativity have given rise to an eloquent catechesis through images. The Servant of God, Albino Luciani, who was your unforgettable Patriarch, described his first visit to this basilica as a young priest in this way: ‘I found myself immersed in a river of light . . . finally I was able to see and enjoy with my own eyes all the splendor of a unique and unrepeatable world of art and beauty, the fascination of which penetrates deep inside you’ ([Camillo Bassotto], Io sono il ragazzo del mio Signore, Venezia-Quarto d’Altino, 1998).”
Pope Benedict XVI, Assembly for the closing of the Diocesan Pastoral Visit at the Basilica of Saint Mark (Venice, 8 May 2011)
Well, now it is really official! With his almost defiant words (aimed at the critics?), Pope Benedict has said: “It came quickly because it is pleasing to the Lord! Pope John Paull II is Blessed!” I wish I had room for the whole of his beautiful homily, but you can read the entire thing with pictures here.
Dear brothers and sisters, today our eyes behold, in the full spiritual light of the risen Christ, the beloved and revered figure of John Paul II. Today his name is added to the host of those whom he proclaimed saints and blesseds during the almost twenty-seven years of his pontificate, thereby forcefully emphasizing the universal vocation to the heights of the Christian life, to holiness, taught by the conciliar Constitution on the Church Lumen Gentium. All of us, as members of the people of God – bishops, priests, deacons, laity, men and women religious – are making our pilgrim way to the heavenly homeland where the Virgin Mary has preceded us, associated as she was in a unique and perfect way to the mystery of Christ and the Church. Karol Wojtyla took part in the Second Vatican Council, first as an auxiliary Bishop and then as Archbishop of Kraków. He was fully aware that the Council’s decision to devote the last chapter of its Constitution on the Church to Mary meant that the Mother of the Redeemer is held up as an image and model of holiness for every Christian and for the entire Church. This was the theological vision which Blessed John Paul II discovered as a young man and subsequently maintained and deepened throughout his life. A vision which is expressed in the scriptural image of the crucified Christ with Mary, his Mother, at his side. This icon from the Gospel of John (19:25-27) was taken up in the episcopal and later the papal coat-of-arms of Karol Wojtyla: a golden cross with the letter “M” on the lower right and the motto “Totus tuus”, drawn from the well-known words of Saint Louis Marie Grignion de Montfort in which Karol Wojtyla found a guiding light for his life: “Totus tuus ego sum et omnia mea tua sunt. Accipio te in mea omnia. Praebe mihi cor tuum, Maria – I belong entirely to you, and all that I have is yours. I take you for my all. O Mary, give me your heart” (Treatise on True Devotion to the Blessed Virgin, 266).
In his Testament, the new Blessed wrote: “When, on 16 October 1978, the Conclave of Cardinals chose John Paul II, the Primate of Poland, Cardinal Stefan Wyszy?ski, said to me: ‘The task of the new Pope will be to lead the Church into the Third Millennium’”. And the Pope added: “I would like once again to express my gratitude to the Holy Spirit for the great gift of the Second Vatican Council, to which, together with the whole Church – and especially with the whole episcopate – I feel indebted. I am convinced that it will long be granted to the new generations to draw from the treasures that this Council of the twentieth century has lavished upon us. As a Bishop who took part in the Council from the first to the last day, I desire to entrust this great patrimony to all who are and will be called in the future to put it into practice. For my part, I thank the Eternal Shepherd, who has enabled me to serve this very great cause in the course of all the years of my Pontificate”. And what is this “cause”? It is the same one that John Paul II presented during his first solemn Mass in Saint Peter’s Square in the unforgettable words: “Do not be afraid! Open, open wide the doors to Christ!” What the newly-elected Pope asked of everyone, he was himself the first to do: society, culture, political and economic systems he opened up to Christ, turning back with the strength of a titan – a strength which came to him from God – a tide which appeared irreversible. By his witness of faith, love and apostolic courage, accompanied by great human charisma, this exemplary son of Poland helped believers throughout the world not to be afraid to be called Christian, to belong to the Church, to speak of the Gospel. In a word: he helped us not to fear the truth, because truth is the guarantee of liberty. To put it even more succinctly: he gave us the strength to believe in Christ, because Christ is Redemptor hominis, the Redeemer of man. . .
Thanks be to God! Blessed John Paul II, ora pro nobis!
Pausing to look at all the sights on our way to Jerusalem. . . Mainly about faith, the Church, film, writing, famous Christian authors, and anything else I'm interested in at the moment.
The photo above was taken at St. Peter's Basilica in Rome in March 2007.
Quote of the Month
"The conviction that there is a Creator God is what gave rise to the idea of human rights, the idea of the equality of all people before the law, the recognition of the inviolability of human dignity in every single person and the awareness of people’s responsibility for their actions. Our cultural memory is shaped by these rational insights. To ignore it or dismiss it as a thing of the past would be to dismember our culture totally and to rob it of its completeness. The culture of Europe arose from the encounter between Jerusalem, Athens and Rome – from the encounter between Israel’s monotheism, the philosophical reason of the Greeks and Roman law. This three-way encounter has shaped the inner identity of Europe. In the awareness of man’s responsibility before God and in the acknowledgment of the inviolable dignity of every single human person, it has established criteria of law: it is these criteria that we are called to defend at this moment in our history."
Pope Benedict XVI to the German Parliament, Sept 22, 2011.
