To
my Brother Bishops,
To Priests and Deacons,
Men and Women Religious
and all the Lay Faithful.
1. At the beginning of the new millennium, and at
the close of the Great Jubilee during which we celebrated
the two thousandth anniversary of the birth of Jesus and
a new stage of the Church’s journey begins, our hearts
ring out with the words of Jesus when one day, after speaking
to the crowds from Simon’s boat, he invited the Apostle
to “put out into the deep” for a catch: “Duc
in altum” (Lk 5:4). Peter and his first companions
trusted Christ’s words, and cast the nets. “When
they had done this, they caught a great number of fish”
(Lk 5:6).
Duc in altum! These words ring out for us today, and they
invite us to remember the past with gratitude, to live the
present with enthusiasm and to look forward to the future
with confidence: “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday
and today and for ever” (Heb 13:8).
The Church’s joy was great this year, as she devoted
herself to contemplating the face of her Bridegroom and
Lord. She became more than ever a pilgrim people, led by
him who is the “the great shepherd of the sheep”
(Heb 13:20). With extraordinary energy, involving so many
of her members, the People of God here in Rome, as well
as in Jerusalem and in all the individual local churches,
went through the “Holy Door” that is Christ. To
him who is the goal of history and the one Saviour of the
world, the Church and the Spirit cried out: “Marana
tha — Come, Lord Jesus” (cf. Rev 22:17, 20; 1
Cor 16:22).
It is impossible to take the measure of this event of grace
which in the course of the year has touched people’s
hearts. But certainly, “a river of living water”,
the water that continually flows “from the throne of
God and of the Lamb” (cf. Rev 22:1), has been poured
out on the Church. This is the water of the Spirit which
quenches thirst and brings new life (cf. Jn 4:14). This
is the merciful love of the Father which has once again
been made known and given to us in Christ. At the end of
this year we can repeat with renewed jubilation the ancient
words of thanksgiving: “Give thanks to the Lord for
he is good, for his love endures for ever” (Ps 118:1).
2. For all this, I feel the need to write to you,
dearly beloved, to share this song of praise with you. From
the beginning of my Pontificate, my thoughts had been on
this Holy Year 2000 as an important appointment. I thought
of its celebration as a providential opportunity during
which the Church, thirty-five years after the Second Vatican
Ecumenical Council, would examine how far she had renewed
herself, in order to be able to take up her evangelizing
mission with fresh enthusiasm.
Has the Jubilee succeeded in this aim? Our commitment, with
its generous efforts and inevitable failings, is under God’s
scrutiny. But we cannot fail to give thanks for the “marvels”
the Lord has worked for us: “Misericordias Domini in
aeternum cantabo” (Ps 89:2).
At the same time, what we have observed demands to be reconsidered,
and in a sense “deciphered”, in order to hear
what the Spirit has been saying to the Church (cf. Rev 2:7,11,17,
etc.) during this most intense year.
3. Dear Brothers and Sisters, it is especially necessary
for us to direct our thoughts to the future which lies before
us. Often during these months we have looked towards the
new millennium which is beginning, as we lived this Jubilee
not only as a remembrance of the past, but also as a prophecy
of the future. We now need to profit from the grace received,
by putting it into practice in resolutions and guidelines
for action. This is a task I wish to invite all the local
churches to undertake. In each of them, gathered around
their Bishop, as they listen to the word and “break
bread” in brotherhood (cf. Acts 2:42), the “one
holy catholic and apostolic Church of Christ is truly present
and operative”.1 It is above all in the actual situation
of each local church that the mystery of the one People
of God takes the particular form that fits it to each individual
context and culture.
In the final analysis, this rooting of the Church in time
and space mirrors the movement of the Incarnation itself.
Now is the time for each local Church to assess its fervour
and find fresh enthusiasm for its spiritual and pastoral
responsibilities, by reflecting on what the Spirit has been
saying to the People of God in this special year of grace,
and indeed in the longer span of time from the Second Vatican
Council to the Great Jubilee. It is with this purpose in
mind that I wish to offer in this Letter, at the conclusion
of the Jubilee Year, the contribution of my Petrine ministry,
so that the Church may shine ever more brightly in the variety
of her gifts and in her unity as she journeys on.
I
MEETING CHRIST
THE LEGACY OF THE GREAT JUBILEE
4. “We give thanks to you, Lord God Almighty”
(Rev 11:17). In the Bull of Indiction of the Jubilee I expressed
the hope that the bimillennial celebration of the mystery
of the Incarnation would be lived as “one unceasing
hymn of praise to the Trinity”2 and also “as a
journey of reconciliation and a sign of true hope for all
who look to Christ and to his Church”.3 And this Jubilee
Year has been an experience of these essential aspects,
reaching moments of intensity which have made us as it were
touch with our hands the merciful presence of God, from
whom comes “every good endowment and every perfect
gift” (Jas 1:17).
My thoughts turn first to the duty of praise. This is the
point of departure for every genuine response of faith to
the revelation of God in Christ. Christianity is grace,
it is the wonder of a God who is not satisfied with creating
the world and man, but puts himself on the same level as
the creature he has made and, after speaking on various
occasions and in different ways through his prophets, “in
these last days ... has spoken to us by a Son” (Heb
1:1-2).
In these days! Yes, the Jubilee has made us realize that
two thousand years of history have passed without diminishing
the freshness of that “today”, when the angels
proclaimed to the shepherds the marvellous event of the
birth of Jesus in Bethlehem: “For to you is born this
day in the city of David a Saviour, who is Christ the Lord”
(Lk 2:11). Two thousand years have gone by, but Jesus’
proclamation of his mission, when he applied the prophecy
of Isaiah to himself before his astonished fellow townspeople
in the Synagogue of Nazareth, is as enduring as ever: “Today
this scripture had been fulfilled in your hearing”
(Lk 4:21). Two thousand years have gone by, but sinners
in need of mercy — and who is not? — still experience
the consolation of that “today” of salvation which
on the Cross opened the gates of the Kingdom of God to the
repentant thief: “Truly, I say to you, today you will
be with me in Paradise” (Lk 23:43).
The fullness of time
5. The coincidence of this Jubilee with the opening
of a new millennium has certainly helped people to become
more aware of the mystery of Christ within the great horizon
of the history of salvation, without any concession to millenarian
fantasies. Christianity is a religion rooted in history!
It was in the soil of history that God chose to establish
a covenant with Israel and so prepare the birth of the Son
from the womb of Mary “in the fullness of time”
(Gal 4:4). Understood in his divine and human mystery, Christ
is the foundation and centre of history, he is its meaning
and ultimate goal. It is in fact through him, the Word and
image of the Father, that “all things were made”
(Jn 1:3; cf. Col 1:15). His incarnation, culminating in
the Paschal Mystery and the gift of the Spirit, is the pulsating
heart of time, the mysterious hour in which the Kingdom
of God came to us (cf. Mk 1:15), indeed took root in our
history, as the seed destined to become a great tree (cf.
Mk 4:30-32).
“Glory to you, Jesus Christ, for you reign today and
for ever”. With this song repeated thousands of times,
we have contemplated Christ this year as he is presented
in the Book of Revelation: “the Alpha and the Omega,
the first and the last, the beginning and the end”
(Rev 22:13). And contemplating Christ, we have also adored
the Father and the Spirit, the one and undivided Trinity,
the ineffable mystery in which everything has its origin
and its fulfilment.
The purification of memory
6. To purify our vision for the contemplation of
the mystery, this Jubilee Year has been strongly marked
by the request for forgiveness. This is true not only for
individuals, who have examined their own lives in order
to ask for mercy and gain the special gift of the indulgence,
but for the entire Church, which has decided to recall the
infidelities of so many of her children in the course of
history, infidelities which have cast a shadow over her
countenance as the Bride of Christ.
For a long time we had been preparing ourselves for this
examination of conscience, aware that the Church, embracing
sinners in her bosom, “is at once holy and always in
need of being purified”.4 Study congresses helped us
to identify those aspects in which, during the course of
the first two millennia, the Gospel spirit did not always
shine forth. How could we forget the moving Liturgy of 12
March 2000 in Saint Peter’s Basilica, at which, looking
upon our Crucified Lord, I asked forgiveness in the name
of the Church for the sins of all her children? This “purification
of memory” has strengthened our steps for the journey
towards the future and has made us more humble and vigilant
in our acceptance of the Gospel.
Witnesses to the faith
7. This lively sense of repentance, however, has
not prevented us from giving glory to the Lord for what
he has done in every century, and in particular during the
century which we have just left behind, by granting his
Church a great host of saints and martyrs. For some of them
the Jubilee year has been the year of their beatification
or canonization. Holiness, whether ascribed to Popes well-known
to history or to humble lay and religious figures, from
one continent to another of the globe, has emerged more
clearly as the dimension which expresses best the mystery
of the Church. Holiness, a message that convinces without
the need for words, is the living reflection of the face
of Christ.
On the occasion of the Holy Year much has also been done
to gather together the precious memories of the witnesses
to the faith in the twentieth century. Together with the
representatives of the other Churches and Ecclesial Communities,
we commemorated them on 7 May 2000 in the evocative setting
of the Colosseum, the symbol of the ancient persecutions.
This is a heritage which must not be lost; we should always
be thankful for it and we should renew our resolve to imitate
it.
A pilgrim Church
8. As if following in the footsteps of the Saints,
countless sons and daughters of the Church have come in
successive waves to Rome, to the Tombs of the Apostles,
wanting to profess their faith, confess their sins and receive
the mercy that saves. I have been impressed this year by
the crowds of people which have filled Saint Peter’s
Square at the many celebrations. I have often stopped to
look at the long queues of pilgrims waiting patiently to
go through the Holy Door. In each of them I tried to imagine
the story of a life, made up of joys, worries, sufferings;
the story of someone whom Christ had met and who, in dialogue
with him, was setting out again on a journey of hope.
As I observed the continuous flow of pilgrims, I saw them
as a kind of concrete image of the pilgrim Church, the Church
placed, as Saint Augustine says, “amid the persecutions
of the world and the consolations of God”.5 We have
only been able to observe the outer face of this unique
event. Who can measure the marvels of grace wrought in human
hearts? It is better to be silent and to adore, trusting
humbly in the mysterious workings of God and singing his
love without end: “Misericordias Domini in aeternum
cantabo!”.
Young people
9. The many Jubilee gatherings have brought together
the most diverse groups of people, and the level of participation
has been truly impressive — at times sorely trying
the commitment of organizers and helpers, both ecclesiastical
and civil. In this Letter I wish to express my heartfelt
gratitude to everyone. But apart from the numbers, what
has moved me so often was to note the intensity of prayer,
reflection and spirit of communion which these meetings
have generally showed.
And how could we fail to recall especially the joyful and
inspiring gathering of young people? If there is an image
of the Jubilee of the Year 2000 that more than any other
will live on in memory, it is surely the streams of young
people with whom I was able to engage in a sort of very
special dialogue, filled with mutual affection and deep
understanding. It was like this from the moment I welcomed
them in the Square of Saint John Lateran and Saint Peter’s
Square. Then I saw them swarming through the city, happy
as young people should be, but also thoughtful, eager to
pray, seeking “meaning” and true friendship. Neither
for them nor for those who saw them will it be easy to forget
that week, during which Rome became “young with the
young”. It will not be possible to forget the Mass
at Tor Vergata.
Yet again, the young have shown themselves to be for Rome
and for the Church a special gift of the Spirit of God.
Sometimes when we look at the young, with the problems and
weaknesses that characterize them in contemporary society,
we tend to be pessimistic. The Jubilee of Young People however
changed that, telling us that young people, whatever their
possible ambiguities, have a profound longing for those
genuine values which find their fullness in Christ. Is not
Christ the secret of true freedom and profound joy of heart?
Is not Christ the supreme friend and the teacher of all
genuine friendship? If Christ is presented to young people
as he really is, they experience him as an answer that is
convincing and they can accept his message, even when it
is demanding and bears the mark of the Cross. For this reason,
in response to their enthusiasm, I did not hesitate to ask
them to make a radical choice of faith and life and present
them with a stupendous task: to become “morning watchmen”
(cf. Is 21:11-12) at the dawn of the new millennium.
The variety of the pilgrims
10. Obviously I cannot go into detail about each
individual Jubilee event. Each one of them had its own character
and has left its message, not only for those who took part
directly but also for those who heard about them or took
part from afar through the media. But how can we forget
the mood of celebration of the first great gathering dedicated
to children? In a way, to begin with them meant respecting
Christ’s command: “Let the children come to me”
(Mk 10:14). Perhaps even more it meant doing what he did
when he placed a child in the midst of the disciples and
made it the very symbol of the attitude which we should
have if we wish to enter the Kingdom of God (cf. Mt 18:2-4).
Thus, in a sense, it was in the footsteps of children that
all the different groups of adults came seeking the Jubilee
grace: from old people to the sick and handicapped, from
workers in factories and fields to sportspeople, from artists
to university teachers, from Bishops and priests to people
in consecrated life, from politicians to journalists, to
the military personnel who came to confirm the meaning of
their service as a service to peace.
One of the most notable events was the gathering of workers
on 1 May, the day traditionally dedicated to the world of
work. I asked them to live a spirituality of work in imitation
of Saint Joseph and of Jesus himself. That Jubilee gathering
also gave me the opportunity to voice a strong call to correct
the economic and social imbalances present in the world
of work and to make decisive efforts to ensure that the
processes of economic globalization give due attention to
solidarity and the respect owed to every human person.
Children, with their irrepressible sense of celebration,
were again present for the Jubilee of Families, when I held
them up to the world as the “springtime of the family
and of society”. This was a truly significant gathering
in which numberless families from different parts of the
world came to draw fresh enthusiasm from the light that
Christ sheds on God’s original plan in their regard
(cf. Mk 10:6-8; Mt 19:4-6) and to commit themselves to bringing
that light to bear on a culture which, in an ever more disturbing
way, is in danger of losing sight of the very meaning of
marriage and the family as an institution.
For me one of the more moving meetings was the one with
the prisoners at Regina Caeli. In their eyes I saw suffering,
but also repentance and hope. For them in a special way
the Jubilee was a “year of mercy”.
Finally, in the last days of the year, an enjoyable occasion
was the meeting with the world of entertainment, which exercises
such a powerful influence on people. I was able to remind
all involved of their great responsibility to use entertainment
to offer a positive message, one that is morally healthy
and able to communicate confidence and love.
The International Eucharistic Congress
11. In the spirit of this Jubilee Year the International
Eucharistic Congress was intended to have special significance.
And it did! Since the Eucharist is the sacrifice of Christ
made present among us, how could his real presence not be
at the centre of the Holy Year dedicated to the Incarnation
of the Word? The year was intended, precisely for this reason,
to be “intensely Eucharistic”,6 and that is how
we tried to live it. At the same time, along with the memory
of the birth of the Son, how could the memory of the Mother
be missing? Mary was present in the Jubilee celebration
not only as a theme of high-level academic gatherings, but
above all in the great Act of Entrustment with which, in
the presence of a large part of the world episcopate, I
entrusted to her maternal care the lives of the men and
women of the new millennium.
The ecumenical dimension
12. You will understand that I speak more readily
of the Jubilee as seen from the See of Peter. However I
am not forgetting that I myself wanted the Jubilee to be
celebrated also in the particular churches, and it is there
that the majority of the faithful were able to gain its
special graces, and particularly the indulgence connected
with the Jubilee Year. Nevertheless it is significant that
many Dioceses wanted to be present, with large groups of
the faithful, here in Rome too. The Eternal City has thus
once again shown its providential role as the place where
the resources and gifts of each individual church, and indeed
of each individual nation and culture, find their “catholic”
harmony, so that the one Church of Christ can show ever
more clearly her mystery as the “sacrament of unity”.7
I had also asked for special attention to be given in the
programme of the Jubilee Year to the ecumenical aspect.
What occasion could be more suitable for encouraging progress
on the path towards full communion than the shared celebration
of the birth of Christ? Much work was done with this in
mind, and one of the highlights was the ecumenical meeting
in Saint Paul’s Basilica on 18 January 2000, when for
the first time in history a Holy Door was opened jointly
by the Successor of Peter, the Anglican Primate and a Metropolitan
of the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople, in the
presence of representatives of Churches and Ecclesial Communities
from all over the world. There were also other important
meetings with Orthodox Patriarchs and the heads of other
Christian denominations. I recall in particular the recent
visit of His Holiness Karekin II, Supreme Patriarch and
Catholicos of All Armenians. In addition, very many members
of other Churches and Ecclesial Communities took part in
the Jubilee meetings organized for various groups. The ecumenical
journey is certainly still difficult, and will perhaps be
long, but we are encouraged by the hope that comes from
being led by the presence of the Risen One and the inexhaustible
power of his Spirit, always capable of new surprises.
Pilgrimage to the Holy Land
13. And how can I not recall my personal Jubilee
along the pathways of the Holy Land? I would have liked
to begin that journey at Ur of the Chaldeans, in order to
follow, tangibly as it were, in the footsteps of Abraham
“our father in faith” (cf. Rom 4:11-16). However,
I had to be content with a pilgrimage in spirit, on the
occasion of the evocative Liturgy of the Word celebrated
in the Paul VI Audience Hall on 23 February. The actual
pilgrimage came almost immediately afterwards, following
the stages of salvation history. Thus I had the joy of visiting
Mount Sinai, where the gift of the Ten Commandments of the
Covenant was given. I set out again a month later, when
I reached Mount Nebo, and then went on to the very places
where the Redeemer lived and which he made holy. It is difficult
to express the emotion I felt in being able to venerate
the places of his birth and life, Bethlehem and Nazareth,
to celebrate the Eucharist in the Upper Room, in the very
place of its institution, to meditate again on the mystery
of the Cross at Golgotha, where he gave his life for us.
In those places, still so troubled and again recently afflicted
by violence, I received an extraordinary welcome not only
from the members of the Church but also from the Israeli
and Palestinian communities. Intense emotion surrounded
my prayer at the Western Wall and my visit to the Mausoleum
of Yad Vashem, with its chilling reminder of the victims
of the Nazi death camps. My pilgrimage was a moment of brotherhood
and peace, and I like to remember it as one of the most
beautiful gifts of the whole Jubilee event. Thinking back
to the mood of those days, I cannot but express my deeply
felt desire for a prompt and just solution to the still
unresolved problems of the Holy Places, cherished by Jews,
Christians and Muslims together.
International debt
14. The Jubilee was also a great event of charity
— and it could not be otherwise. Already in the years
of preparation, I had called for greater and more incisive
attention to the problems of poverty which still beset the
world. The problem of the international debt of poor countries
took on particular significance in this context. A gesture
of generosity towards these countries was in the very spirit
of the Jubilee, which in its original Biblical setting was
precisely a time when the community committed itself to
re-establishing justice and solidarity in interpersonal
relations, including the return of whatever belonged to
others. I am happy to note that recently the Parliaments
of many creditor States have voted a substantial remission
of the bilateral debt of the poorest and most indebted countries.
I hope that the respective Governments will soon implement
these parliamentary decisions. The question of multilateral
debt contracted by poorer countries with international financial
organizations has shown itself to be a rather more problematic
issue. It is to be hoped that the member States of these
organizations, especially those that have greater decisional
powers, will succeed in reaching the necessary consensus
in order to arrive at a rapid solution to this question
on which the progress of many countries depends, with grave
consequences for the economy and the living conditions of
so many people.
New energies
15. These are only some of the elements of the Jubilee
celebration. It has left us with many memories. But if we
ask what is the core of the great legacy it leaves us, I
would not hesitate to describe it as the contemplation of
the face of Christ: Christ considered in his historical
features and in his mystery, Christ known through his manifold
presence in the Church and in the world, and confessed as
the meaning of history and the light of life’s journey.
Now we must look ahead, we must “put out into the deep”,
trusting in Christ’s words: Duc in altum! What we have
done this year cannot justify a sense of complacency, and
still less should it lead us to relax our commitment. On
the contrary, the experiences we have had should inspire
in us new energy, and impel us to invest in concrete initiatives
the enthusiasm which we have felt. Jesus himself warns us:
“No one who puts his hand to the plough and looks back
is fit for the kingdom of God” (Lk 9:62). In the cause
of the Kingdom there is no time for looking back, even less
for settling into laziness. Much awaits us, and for this
reason we must set about drawing up an effective post-Jubilee
pastoral plan.
It is important however that what we propose, with the help
of God, should be profoundly rooted in contemplation and
prayer. Ours is a time of continual movement which often
leads to restlessness, with the risk of “doing for
the sake of doing”. We must resist this temptation
by trying “to be” before trying “to do”.
In this regard we should recall how Jesus reproved Martha:
“You are anxious and troubled about many things; one
thing is needful” (Lk 10:41-42). In this spirit, before
setting out a number of practical guidelines for your consideration,
I wish to share with you some points of meditation on the
mystery of Christ, the absolute foundation of all our pastoral
activity.
II
A FACE TO CONTEMPLATE
16. “We wish to see Jesus” (Jn 12:21).
This request, addressed to the Apostle Philip by some Greeks
who had made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem for the Passover,
echoes spiritually in our ears too during this Jubilee Year.
Like those pilgrims of two thousand years ago, the men and
women of our own day — often perhaps unconsciously
— ask believers not only to “speak” of Christ,
but in a certain sense to “show” him to them.
And is it not the Church’s task to reflect the light
of Christ in every historical period, to make his face shine
also before the generations of the new millennium?
Our witness, however, would be hopelessly inadequate if
we ourselves had not first contemplated his face. The Great
Jubilee has certainly helped us to do this more deeply.
At the end of the Jubilee, as we go back to our ordinary
routine, storing in our hearts the treasures of this very
special time, our gaze is more than ever firmly set on the
face of the Lord.
The witness of the Gospels
17. The contemplation of Christ’s face cannot
fail to be inspired by all that we are told about him in
Sacred Scripture, which from beginning to end is permeated
by his mystery, prefigured in a veiled way in the Old Testament
and revealed fully in the New, so that Saint Jerome can
vigorously affirm: “Ignorance of the Scriptures is
ignorance of Christ”.8 Remaining firmly anchored in
Scripture, we open ourselves to the action of the Spirit
(cf. Jn 15:26) from whom the sacred texts derive their origin,
as well as to the witness of the Apostles (cf. Jn 15:27),
who had a first-hand experience of Christ, the Word of life:
they saw him with their eyes, heard him with their ears,
touched him with their hands (cf. 1 Jn 1:1).
What we receive from them is a vision of faith based on
precise historical testimony: a true testimony which the
Gospels, despite their complex redaction and primarily catechetical
purpose, pass on to us in an entirely trustworthy way.9
18. The Gospels do not claim to be a complete biography
of Jesus in accordance with the canons of modern historical
science. From them, nevertheless, the face of the Nazarene
emerges with a solid historical foundation. The Evangelists
took pains to represent him on the basis of trustworthy
testimonies which they gathered (cf. Lk 1:3) and working
with documents which were subjected to careful ecclesial
scrutiny. It was on the basis of such first-hand testimony
that, enlightened by the Holy Spirit’s action, they
learnt the humanly perplexing fact of Jesus’ virginal
birth from Mary, wife of Joseph. From those who had known
him during the almost thirty years spent in Nazareth (cf.
Lk 3:23) they collected facts about the life of “the
carpenter’s son” (Mt 13:55) who was himself a
“carpenter” and whose place within the context
of his larger family was well established (cf. Mk 6:3).
They recorded his religious fervour, which prompted him
to make annual pilgrimages to the Temple in Jerusalem with
his family (cf. Lk 2:41), and made him a regular visitor
to the synagogue of his own town (cf. Lk 4:16).
Without being complete and detailed, the reports of his
public ministry become much fuller, starting at the moment
of the young Galilean’s baptism by John the Baptist
in the Jordan. Strengthened by the witness from on high
and aware of being the “beloved son” (Lk 3:22),
he begins his preaching of the coming of the Kingdom of
God, and explains its demands and its power by words and
signs of grace and mercy. The Gospels present him to us
as one who travels through towns and villages, accompanied
by twelve Apostles whom he has chosen (cf. Mk 3:13-19),
by a group of women who assist them (cf. Lk 8:2-3), by crowds
that seek him out and follow him, by the sick who cry out
for his healing power, by people who listen to him with
varying degrees of acceptance of his words.
The Gospel narrative then converges on the growing tension
which develops between Jesus and the dominant groups in
the religious society of his time, until the final crisis
with its dramatic climax on Golgotha. This is the hour of
darkness, which is followed by a new, radiant and definitive
dawn. The Gospel accounts conclude, in fact, by showing
the Nazarene victorious over death. They point to the empty
tomb and follow him in the cycle of apparitions in which
the disciples — at first perplexed and bewildered,
then filled with unspeakable joy — experience his living
and glorious presence. From him they receive the gift of
the Spirit (cf. Jn 20:22) and the command to proclaim the
Gospel to “all nations” (Mt 28:19).
The life of faith
19. “The disciples were glad when they saw the
Lord” (Jn 20:20). The face which the Apostles contemplated
after the Resurrection was the same face of the Jesus with
whom they had lived for almost three years, and who now
convinced them of the astonishing truth of his new life
by showing them “his hands and his side” (ibid.).
Of course it was not easy to believe. The disciples on their
way to Emmaus believed only after a long spiritual journey
(cf. Lk 24:13-35). The Apostle Thomas believed only after
verifying for himself the marvellous event (cf. Jn 20:24-29).
In fact, regardless of how much his body was seen or touched,
only faith could fully enter the mystery of that face. This
was an experience which the disciples must have already
had during the historical life of Christ, in the questions
which came to their minds whenever they felt challenged
by his actions and his words. One can never really reach
Jesus except by the path of faith, on a journey of which
the stages seem to be indicated to us by the Gospel itself
in the well known scene at Caesarea Philippi (cf. Mt 16:13-20).
Engaging in a kind of first evaluation of his mission, Jesus
asks his disciples what “people” think of him,
and they answer him: “Some say John the Baptist, others
say Elijah, and others Jeremiah or one of the prophets”
(Mt 16:14). A lofty response to be sure, but still a long
way — by far — from the truth. The crowds are
able to sense a definitely exceptional religious dimension
to this rabbi who speaks in such a spellbinding way, but
they are not able to put him above those men of God who
had distinguished the history of Israel. Jesus is really
far different! It is precisely this further step of awareness,
concerning as it does the deeper level of his being, which
he expects from those who are close to him: “But who
do you say that I am?” (Mt 16:15). Only the faith proclaimed
by Peter, and with him by the Church in every age, truly
goes to the heart, and touches the depth of the mystery:
“You are the Christ, the Son of the living God”
(Mt 16:16).
20. How had Peter come to this faith? And what is
asked of us, if we wish to follow in his footsteps with
ever greater conviction? Matthew gives us an enlightening
insight in the words with which Jesus accepts Peter’s
confession: “Flesh and blood has not revealed this
to you, but my Father who is in heaven” (16:17). The
expression “flesh and blood” is a reference to
man and the common way of understanding things. In the case
of Jesus, this common way is not enough. A grace of “revelation”
is needed, which comes from the Father (cf. ibid.). Luke
gives us an indication which points in the same direction
when he notes that this dialogue with the disciples took
place when Jesus “was praying alone” (Lk 9:18).
Both indications converge to make it clear that we cannot
come to the fullness of contemplation of the Lord’s
face by our own efforts alone, but by allowing grace to
take us by the hand. Only the experience of silence and
prayer offers the proper setting for the growth and development
of a true, faithful and consistent knowledge of that mystery
which finds its culminating expression in the solemn proclamation
by the Evangelist Saint John: “And the Word became
flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth; we have
beheld his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father”
(1:14).
The depth of the mystery
21. The Word and the flesh, the divine glory and
his dwelling among us! It is in the intimate and inseparable
union of these two aspects that Christ’s identity is
to be found, in accordance with the classic formula of the
Council of Chalcedon (451): “one person in two natures”.
The person is that, and that alone, of the Eternal Word,
the Son of the Father. The two natures, without any confusion
whatsoever, but also without any possible separation, are
the divine and the human.10
We know that our concepts and our words are limited. The
formula, though always human, is nonetheless carefully measured
in its doctrinal content, and it enables us, albeit with
trepidation, to gaze in some way into the depths of the
mystery. Yes, Jesus is true God and true man! Like the Apostle
Thomas, the Church is constantly invited by Christ to touch
his wounds, to recognize, that is, the fullness of his humanity
taken from Mary, given up to death, transfigured by the
Resurrection: “Put your finger here, and see my hands;
and put out your hand, and place it in my side” (Jn
20:27). Like Thomas, the Church bows down in adoration before
the Risen One, clothed in the fullness of his divine splendour,
and never ceases to exclaim: “My Lord and my God!”
(Jn 20:28).
22. “The Word became flesh” (Jn 1:14).
This striking formulation by John of the mystery of Christ
is confirmed by the entire New Testament. The Apostle Paul
takes this same approach when he affirms that the Son of
God was born “of the race of David, according to the
flesh” (cf. Rom 1:3; cf. 9:5). If today, because of
the rationalism found in so much of contemporary culture,
it is above all faith in the divinity of Christ that has
become problematic, in other historical and cultural contexts
there was a tendency to diminish and do away with the historical
concreteness of Jesus’ humanity. But for the Church’s
faith it is essential and indispensable to affirm that the
Word truly “became flesh” and took on every aspect
of humanity, except sin (cf. Heb 4:15). From this perspective,
the incarnation is truly a kenosis — a “self-emptying”
— on the part of the Son of God of that glory which
is his from all eternity (Phil 2:6-8; cf. 1 Pt 3:18).
On the other hand, this abasement of the Son of God is not
an end in itself; it tends rather towards the full glorification
of Christ, even in his humanity: “Therefore God has
highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name which is
above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should
bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every
tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of
God the Father” (Phil 2:9-11).
23. “Your face, O Lord, I seek” (Ps 27:8).
The ancient longing of the Psalmist could receive no fulfilment
greater and more surprising than the contemplation of the
face of Christ. God has truly blessed us in him and has
made “his face to shine upon us” (Ps 67:1). At
the same time, God and man that he is, he reveals to us
also the true face of man, “fully revealing man to
man himself”.11
Jesus is “the new man” (cf. Eph 4:24; Col 3:10)
who calls redeemed humanity to share in his divine life.
The mystery of the Incarnation lays the foundations for
an anthropology which, reaching beyond its own limitations
and contradictions, moves towards God himself, indeed towards
the goal of “divinization”. This occurs through
the grafting of the redeemed on to Christ and their admission
into the intimacy of the Trinitarian life. The Fathers have
laid great stress on this soteriological dimension of the
mystery of the Incarnation: it is only because the Son of
God truly became man that man, in him and through him, can
truly become a child of God.12
The Son’s face
24. This divine-human identity emerges forcefully
from the Gospels, which offer us a range of elements that
make it possible for us to enter that “frontier zone”
of the mystery, represented by Christ’s self-awareness.
The Church has no doubt that the Evangelists in their accounts,
and inspired from on high, have correctly understood in
the words which Jesus spoke the truth about his person and
his awareness of it. Is this not what Luke wishes to tell
us when he recounts Jesus’ first recorded words, spoken
in the Temple in Jerusalem when he was barely twelve years
old? Already at that time he shows that he is aware of a
unique relationship with God, a relationship which properly
belongs to a “son”. When his mother tells him
how anxiously she and Joseph had been searching for him,
Jesus replies without hesitation: “How is it that you
sought me? Did you not know that I must be about my Father’s
affairs?” (Lk 2:49). It is no wonder therefore that
later as a grown man his language authoritatively expresses
the depth of his own mystery, as is abundantly clear both
in the Synoptic Gospels (cf. Mt 11:27; Lk 10:22) and above
all in the Gospel of John. In his self-awareness, Jesus
has no doubts: “The Father is in me and I am in the
Father” (Jn 10:38).
However valid it may be to maintain that, because of the
human condition which made him grow “in wisdom and
in stature, and in favour with God and man” (Lk 2:52),
his human awareness of his own mystery would also have progressed
to its fullest expression in his glorified humanity, there
is no doubt that already in his historical existence Jesus
was aware of his identity as the Son of God. John emphasizes
this to the point of affirming that it was ultimately because
of this awareness that Jesus was rejected and condemned:
they sought to kill him “because he not only broke
the sabbath but also called God his Father, making himself
equal with God” (Jn 5:18). In Gethsemane and on Golgotha
Jesus’ human awareness will be put to the supreme test.
But not even the drama of his Passion and Death will be
able to shake his serene certainty of being the Son of the
heavenly Father.
A face of sorrow
25. In contemplating Christ’s face, we confront
the most paradoxical aspect of his mystery, as it emerges
in his last hour, on the Cross. The mystery within the mystery,
before which we cannot but prostrate ourselves in adoration.
The intensity of the episode of the agony in the Garden
of Olives passes before our eyes. Oppressed by foreknowledge
of the trials that await him, and alone before the Father,
Jesus cries out to him in his habitual and affectionate
expression of trust: “Abba, Father”. He asks him
to take away, if possible, the cup of suffering (cf. Mk
14:36). But the Father seems not to want to heed the Son’s
cry. In order to bring man back to the Father’s face,
Jesus not only had to take on the face of man, but he had
to burden himself with the “face” of sin. “For
our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that
in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2
Cor 5:21).
We shall never exhaust the depths of this mystery. All the
harshness of the paradox can be heard in Jesus’ seemingly
desperate cry of pain on the Cross: “ ‘Eloi, Eloi,
lama sabachthani?’ which means, ‘My God, my God,
why have you forsaken me?’ “ (Mk 15:34). Is it
possible to imagine a greater agony, a more impenetrable
darkness? In reality, the anguished “why” addressed
to the Father in the opening words of the Twenty-second
Psalm expresses all the realism of unspeakable pain; but
it is also illumined by the meaning of that entire prayer,
in which the Psalmist brings together suffering and trust,
in a moving blend of emotions. In fact the Psalm continues:
“In you our fathers put their trust; they trusted and
you set them free ... Do not leave me alone in my distress,
come close, there is none else to help” (Ps 22:5,12).
26. Jesus’ cry on the Cross, dear Brothers and
Sisters, is not the cry of anguish of a man without hope,
but the prayer of the Son who offers his life to the Father
in love, for the salvation of all. At the very moment when
he identifies with our sin, “abandoned” by the
Father, he “abandons” himself into the hands of
the Father. His eyes remain fixed on the Father. Precisely
because of the knowledge and experience of the Father which
he alone has, even at this moment of darkness he sees clearly
the gravity of sin and suffers because of it. He alone,
who sees the Father and rejoices fully in him, can understand
completely what it means to resist the Father’s love
by sin. More than an experience of physical pain, his Passion
is an agonizing suffering of the soul. Theological tradition
has not failed to ask how Jesus could possibly experience
at one and the same time his profound unity with the Father,
by its very nature a source of joy and happiness, and an
agony that goes all the way to his final cry of abandonment.
The simultaneous presence of these two seemingly irreconcilable
aspects is rooted in the fathomless depths of the hypostatic
union.
27. Faced with this mystery, we are greatly helped
not only by theological investigation but also by that great
heritage which is the “lived theology” of the
saints. The saints offer us precious insights which enable
us to understand more easily the intuition of faith, thanks
to the special enlightenment which some of them have received
from the Holy Spirit, or even through their personal experience
of those terrible states of trial which the mystical tradition
describes as the “dark night”. Not infrequently
the saints have undergone something akin to Jesus’
experience on the Cross in the paradoxical blending of bliss
and pain. In the Dialogue of Divine Providence, God the
Father shows Catherine of Siena how joy and suffering can
be present together in holy souls: “Thus the soul is
blissful and afflicted: afflicted on account of the sins
of its neighbour, blissful on account of the union and the
affection of charity which it has inwardly received. These
souls imitate the spotless Lamb, my Only-begotten Son, who
on the Cross was both blissful and afflicted”.13 In
the same way, Thérèse of Lisieux lived her
agony in communion with the agony of Jesus, “experiencing”
in herself the very paradox of Jesus’s own bliss and
anguish: “In the Garden of Olives our Lord was blessed
with all the joys of the Trinity, yet his dying was no less
harsh. It is a mystery, but I assure you that, on the basis
of what I myself am feeling, I can understand something
of it”.14 What an illuminating testimony! Moreover,
the accounts given by the Evangelists themselves provide
a basis for this intuition on the part of the Church of
Christ’s consciousness when they record that, even
in the depths of his pain, he died imploring forgiveness
for his executioners (cf. Lk 23:34) and expressing to the
Father his ultimate filial abandonment: “Father, into
your hands I commend my spirit” (Lk 23:46).
The face of the One who is Risen
28. As on Good Friday and Holy Saturday, the Church
pauses in contemplation of this bleeding face, which conceals
the life of God and offers salvation to the world. But her
contemplation of Christ’s face cannot stop at the image
of the Crucified One. He is the Risen One! Were this not
so, our preaching would be in vain and our faith empty (cf.
1 Cor 15:14). The Resurrection was the Father’s response
to Christ’s obedience, as we learn from the Letter
to the Hebrews: “In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered
up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears,
to him who was able to save him from death, and he was heard
for his godly fear. Son though he was, he learned obedience
through what he suffered; and being made perfect, he became
the source of eternal salvation to all who obey him”
(5:7-9).
It is the Risen Christ to whom the Church now looks. And
she does so in the footsteps of Peter, who wept for his
denial and started out again by confessing, with understandable
trepidation, his love of Christ: “You know that I love
you” (Jn 21:15-17). She does so in the company of Paul,
who encountered the Lord on the road to Damascus and was
overwhelmed: “For me to live is Christ, and to die
is gain” (Phil 1:21).
Two thousand years after these events, the Church relives
them as if they had happened today. Gazing on the face of
Christ, the Bride contemplates her treasure and her joy.
“Dulcis Iesus memoria, dans vera cordis gaudia”:
how sweet is the memory of Jesus, the source of the heart’s
true joy! Heartened by this experience, the Church today
sets out once more on her journey, in order to proclaim
Christ to the world at the dawn of the Third Millennium:
he “is the same yesterday and today and for ever”
(Heb 13:8).
III
STARTING AFRESH FROM CHRIST
29. “I am with you always, to the close of the
age” (Mt 28:20). This assurance, dear brothers and
sisters, has accompanied the Church for two thousand years,
and has now been renewed in our hearts by the celebration
of the Jubilee. From it we must gain new impetus in Christian
living, making it the force which inspires our journey of
faith. Conscious of the Risen Lord’s presence among
us, we ask ourselves today the same question put to Peter
in Jerusalem immediately after his Pentecost speech: “What
must we do?” (Acts 2:37).
We put the question with trusting optimism, but without
underestimating the problems we face. We are certainly not
seduced by the naive expectation that, faced with the great
challenges of our time, we shall find some magic formula.
No, we shall not be saved by a formula but by a Person,
and the assurance which he gives us: I am with you!
It is not therefore a matter of inventing a “new programme”.
The programme already exists: it is the plan found in the
Gospel and in the living Tradition, it is the same as ever.
Ultimately, it has its centre in Christ himself, who is
to be known, loved and imitated, so that in him we may live
the life of the Trinity, and with him transform history
until its fulfilment in the heavenly Jerusalem. This is
a programme which does not change with shifts of times and
cultures, even though it takes account of time and culture
for the sake of true dialogue and effective communication.
This programme for all times is our programme for the Third
Millennium.
But it must be translated into pastoral initiatives adapted
to the circumstances of each community. The Jubilee has
given us the extraordinary opportunity to travel together
for a number of years on a journey common to the whole Church,
a catechetical journey on the theme of the Trinity, accompanied
by precise pastoral undertakings designed to ensure that
the Jubilee would be a fruitful event. I am grateful for
the sincere and widespread acceptance of what I proposed
in my Apostolic Letter Tertio Millennio Adveniente. But
now it is no longer an immediate goal that we face, but
the larger and more demanding challenge of normal pastoral
activity. With its universal and indispensable provisions,
the programme of the Gospel must continue to take root,
as it has always done, in the life of the Church everywhere.
It is in the local churches that the specific features of
a detailed pastoral plan can be identified — goals
and methods, formation and enrichment of the people involved,
the search for the necessary resources — which will
enable the proclamation of Christ to reach people, mould
communities, and have a deep and incisive influence in bringing
Gospel values to bear in society and culture.
I therefore earnestly exhort the Pastors of the particular
Churches, with the help of all sectors of God’s People,
confidently to plan the stages of the journey ahead, harmonizing
the choices of each diocesan community with those of neighbouring
Churches and of the universal Church.
This harmonization will certainly be facilitated by the
collegial work which Bishops now regularly undertake in
Episcopal Conferences and Synods. Was this not the point
of the continental Assemblies of the Synod of Bishops which
prepared for the Jubilee, and which forged important directives
for the present-day proclamation of the Gospel in so many
different settings and cultures? This rich legacy of reflection
must not be allowed to disappear, but must be implemented
in practical ways.
What awaits us therefore is an exciting work of pastoral
revitalization — a work involving all of us. As guidance
and encouragement to everyone, I wish to indicate certain
pastoral priorities which the experience of the Great Jubilee
has, in my view, brought to light.
Holiness
30. First of all, I have no hesitation in saying
that all pastoral initiatives must be set in relation to
holiness. Was this not the ultimate meaning of the Jubilee
indulgence, as a special grace offered by Christ so that
the life of every baptized person could be purified and
deeply renewed?
It is my hope that, among those who have taken part in the
Jubilee, many will have benefited from this grace, in full
awareness of its demands. Once the Jubilee is over, we resume
our normal path, but knowing that stressing holiness remains
more than ever an urgent pastoral task.
It is necessary therefore to rediscover the full practical
significance of Chapter 5 of the Dogmatic Constitution on
the Church Lumen Gentium, dedicated to the “universal
call to holiness”. The Council Fathers laid such stress
on this point, not just to embellish ecclesiology with a
kind of spiritual veneer, but to make the call to holiness
an intrinsic and essential aspect of their teaching on the
Church. The rediscovery of the Church as “mystery”,
or as a people “gathered together by the unity of the
Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit”,15 was bound to
bring with it a rediscovery of the Church’s “holiness”,
understood in the basic sense of belonging to him who is
in essence the Holy One, the “thrice Holy” (cf.
Is 6:3). To profess the Church as holy means to point to
her as the Bride of Christ, for whom he gave himself precisely
in order to make her holy (cf. Eph 5:25-26). This as it
were objective gift of holiness is offered to all the baptized.
But the gift in turn becomes a task, which must shape the
whole of Christian life: “This is the will of God,
your sanctification” (1 Th 4:3). It is a duty which
concerns not only certain Christians: “All the Christian
faithful, of whatever state or rank, are called to the fullness
of the Christian life and to the perfection of charity”.16
31. At first glance, it might seem almost impractical
to recall this elementary truth as the foundation of the
pastoral planning in which we are involved at the start
of the new millennium. Can holiness ever be “planned”?
What might the word “holiness” mean in the context
of a pastoral plan?
In fact, to place pastoral planning under the heading of
holiness is a choice filled with consequences. It implies
the conviction that, since Baptism is a true entry into
the holiness of God through incorporation into Christ and
the indwelling of his Spirit, it would be a contradiction
to settle for a life of mediocrity, marked by a minimalist
ethic and a shallow religiosity. To ask catechumens: “Do
you wish to receive Baptism?” means at the same time
to ask them: “Do you wish to become holy?” It
means to set before them the radical nature of the Sermon
on the Mount: “Be perfect as your heavenly Father is
perfect” (Mt 5:48).
As the Council itself explained, this ideal of perfection
must not be misunderstood as if it involved some kind of
extraordinary existence, possible only for a few “uncommon
heroes” of holiness. The ways of holiness are many,
according to the vocation of each individual. I thank the
Lord that in these years he has enabled me to beatify and
canonize a large number of Christians, and among them many
lay people who attained holiness in the most ordinary circumstances
of life. The time has come to re-propose wholeheartedly
to everyone this high standard of ordinary Christian living:
the whole life of the Christian community and of Christian
families must lead in this direction. It is also clear however
that the paths to holiness are personal and call for a genuine
“training in holiness”, adapted to people’s
needs. This training must integrate the resources offered
to everyone with both the traditional forms of individual
and group assistance, as well as the more recent forms of
support offered in associations and movements recognized
by the Church.
Prayer
32. This training in holiness calls for a Christian
life distinguished above all in the art of prayer. The Jubilee
Year has been a year of more intense prayer, both personal
and communal. But we well know that prayer cannot be taken
for granted. We have to learn to pray: as it were learning
this art ever anew from the lips of the Divine Master himself,
like the first disciples: “Lord, teach us to pray!”
(Lk 11:1). Prayer develops that conversation with Christ
which makes us his intimate friends: “Abide in me and
I in you” (Jn 15:4). This reciprocity is the very substance
and soul of the Christian life, and the condition of all
true pastoral life. Wrought in us by the Holy Spirit, this
reciprocity opens us, through Christ and in Christ, to contemplation
of the Father’s face. Learning this Trinitarian shape
of Christian prayer and living it fully, above all in the
liturgy, the summit and source of the Church’s life,17
but also in personal experience, is the secret of a truly
vital Christianity, which has no reason to fear the future,
because it returns continually to the sources and finds
in them new life.
33. Is it not one of the “signs of the times”
that in today’s world, despite widespread secularization,
there is a widespread demand for spirituality, a demand
which expresses itself in large part as a renewed need for
prayer? Other religions, which are now widely present in
ancient Christian lands, offer their own responses to this
need, and sometimes they do so in appealing ways. But we
who have received the grace of believing in Christ, the
revealer of the Father and the Saviour of the world, have
a duty to show to what depths the relationship with Christ
can lead.
The great mystical tradition of the Church of both East
and West has much to say in this regard. It shows how prayer
can progress, as a genuine dialogue of love, to the point
of rendering the person wholly possessed by the divine Beloved,
vibrating at the Spirit’s touch, resting filially within
the Father’s heart. This is the lived experience of
Christ’s promise: “He who loves me will be loved
by my Father, and I will love him and manifest myself to
him” (Jn 14:21). It is a journey totally sustained
by grace, which nonetheless demands an intense spiritual
commitment and is no stranger to painful purifications (the
“dark night”). But it leads, in various possible
ways, to the ineffable joy experienced by the mystics as
“nuptial union”. How can we forget here, among
the many shining examples, the teachings of Saint John of
the Cross and Saint Teresa of Avila?
Yes, dear brothers and sisters, our Christian communities
must become genuine “schools” of prayer, where
the meeting with Christ is expressed not just in imploring
help but also in thanksgiving, praise, adoration, contemplation,
listening and ardent devotion, until the heart truly “falls
in love”. Intense prayer, yes, but it does not distract
us from our commitment to history: by opening our heart
to the love of God it also opens it to the love of our brothers
and sisters, and makes us capable of shaping history according
to God’s plan.18
34. Christians who have received the gift of a vocation
to the specially consecrated life are of course called to
prayer in a particular way: of its nature, their consecration
makes them more open to the experience of contemplation,
and it is important that they should cultivate it with special
care. But it would be wrong to think that ordinary Christians
can be content with a shallow prayer that is unable to fill
their whole life. Especially in the face of the many trials
to which today’s world subjects faith, they would be
not only mediocre Christians but “Christians at risk”.
They would run the insidious risk of seeing their faith
progressively undermined, and would perhaps end up succumbing
to the allure of “substitutes”, accepting alternative
religious proposals and even indulging in far-fetched superstitions.
It is therefore essential that education in prayer should
become in some way a key-point of all pastoral planning.
I myself have decided to dedicate the forthcoming Wednesday
catecheses to reflection upon the Psalms, beginning with
the Psalms of Morning Prayer with which the public prayer
of the Church invites us to consecrate and direct our day.
How helpful it would be if not only in religious communities
but also in parishes more were done to ensure an all-pervading
climate of prayer. With proper discernment, this would require
that popular piety be given its proper place, and that people
be educated especially in liturgical prayer. Perhaps it
is more thinkable than we usually presume for the average
day of a Christian community to combine the many forms of
pastoral life and witness in the world with the celebration
of the Eucharist and even the recitation of Lauds and Vespers.
The experience of many committed Christian groups, also
those made up largely of lay people, is proof of this.
The Sunday Eucharist
35. It is therefore obvious that our principal attention
must be given to the liturgy, “the summit towards which
the Church’s action tends and at the same time the
source from which comes all her strength”.19 In the
twentieth century, especially since the Council, there has
been a great development in the way the Christian community
celebrates the Sacraments, especially the Eucharist. It
is necessary to continue in this direction, and to stress
particularly the Sunday Eucharist and Sunday itself experienced
as a special day of faith, the day of the Risen Lord and
of the gift of the Spirit, the true weekly Easter.20 For
two thousand years, Christian time has been measured by
the memory of that “first day of the week” (Mk
16:2,9; Lk 24:1; Jn 20:1), when the Risen Christ gave the
Apostles the gift of peace and of the Spirit (cf. Jn 20:19-23).
The truth of Christ’s Resurrection is the original
fact upon which Christian faith is based (cf. 1 Cor 15:14),
an event set at the centre of the mystery of time, prefiguring
the last day when Christ will return in glory. We do not
know what the new millennium has in store for us, but we
are certain that it is safe in the hands of Christ, the
“King of kings and Lord of lords” (Rev 19:16);
and precisely by celebrating his Passover not just once
a year but every Sunday, the Church will continue to show
to every generation “the true fulcrum of history, to
which the mystery of the world’s origin and its final
destiny leads”.21
36. Following Dies Domini, I therefore wish to insist
that sharing in the Eucharist should really be the heart
of Sunday for every baptized person. It is a fundamental
duty, to be fulfilled not just in order to observe a precept
but as something felt as essential to a truly informed and
consistent Christian life. We are entering a millennium
which already shows signs of being marked by a profound
interweaving of cultures and religions, even in countries
which have been Christian for many centuries. In many regions
Christians are, or are becoming, a “little flock”
(Lk 12:32). This presents them with the challenge, often
in isolated and difficult situations, to bear stronger witness
to the distinguishing elements of their own identity. The
duty to take part in the Eucharist every Sunday is one of
these. The Sunday Eucharist which every week gathers Christians
together as God’s family round the table of the Word
and the Bread of Life, is also the most natural antidote
to dispersion. It is the privileged place where communion
is ceaselessly proclaimed and nurtured. Precisely through
sharing in the Eucharist, the Lord’s Day also becomes
the Day of the Church,22 when she can effectively exercise
her role as the sacrament of unity.
The Sacrament of Reconciliation
37. I am also asking for renewed pastoral courage
in ensuring that the day-to-day teaching of Christian communities
persuasively and effectively presents the practice of the
Sacrament of Reconciliation. As you will recall, in 1984
I dealt with this subject in the Post-Synodal Exhortation
Reconciliatio et Paenitentia, which synthesized the results
of an Assembly of the Synod of Bishops devoted to this question.
My invitation then was to make every effort to face the
crisis of “the sense of sin” apparent in today’s
culture.23 But I was even more insistent in calling for
a rediscovery of Christ as mysterium pietatis, the one in
whom God shows us his compassionate heart and reconciles
us fully with himself. It is this face of Christ that must
be rediscovered through the Sacrament of Penance, which
for the faithful is “the ordinary way of obtaining
forgiveness and the remission of serious sins committed
after Baptism”.24 When the Synod addressed the problem,
the crisis of the Sacrament was there for all to see, especially
in some parts of the world. The causes of the crisis have
not disappeared in the brief span of time since then. But
the Jubilee Year, which has been particularly marked by
a return to the Sacrament of Penance, has given us an encouraging
message, which should not be ignored: if many people, and
among them also many young people, have benefited from approaching
this Sacrament, it is probably necessary that Pastors should
arm themselves with more confidence, creativity and perseverance
in presenting it and leading people to appreciate it. Dear
brothers in the priesthood, we must not give in to passing
crises! The Lord’s gifts — and the Sacraments
are among the most precious — come from the One who
well knows the human heart and is the Lord of history.
The primacy of grace
38. If in the planning that awaits us we commit ourselves
more confidently to a pastoral activity that gives personal
and communal prayer its proper place, we shall be observing
an essential principle of the Christian view of life: the
primacy of grace. There is a temptation which perennially
besets every spiritual journey and pastoral work: that of
thinking that the results depend on our ability to act and
to plan. God of course asks us really to cooperate with
his grace, and therefore invites us to invest all our resources
of intelligence and energy in serving the cause of the Kingdom.
But it is fatal to forget that “without Christ we can
do nothing” (cf. Jn 15:5).
It is prayer which roots us in this truth. It constantly
reminds us of the primacy of Christ and, in union with him,
the primacy of the interior life and of holiness. When this
principle is not respected, is it any wonder that pastoral
plans come to nothing and leave us with a disheartening
sense of frustration? We then share the experience of the
disciples in the Gospel story of the miraculous catch of
fish: “We have toiled all night and caught nothing”
(Lk 5:5). This is the moment of faith, of prayer, of conversation
with God, in order to open our hearts to the tide of grace
and allow the word of Christ to pass through us in all its
power: Duc in altum! On that occasion, it was Peter who
spoke the word of faith: “At your word I will let down
the nets” (ibid.). As this millennium begins, allow
the Successor of Peter to invite the whole Church to make
this act of faith, which expresses itself in a renewed commitment
to prayer.
Listening to the Word
39. There is no doubt that this primacy of holiness
and prayer is inconceivable without a renewed listening
to the word of God. Ever since the Second Vatican Council
underlined the pre-eminent role of the word of God in the
life of the Church, great progress has certainly been made
in devout listening to Sacred Scripture and attentive study
of it. Scripture has its rightful place of honour in the
public prayer of the Church. Individuals and communities
now make extensive use of the Bible, and among lay people
there are many who devote themselves to Scripture with the
valuable help of theological and biblical studies. But it
is above all the work of evangelization and catechesis which
is drawing new life from attentiveness to the word of God.
Dear brothers and sisters, this development needs to be
consolidated and deepened, also by making sure that every
family has a Bible. It is especially necessary that listening
to the word of God should become a life-giving encounter,
in the ancient and ever valid tradition of lectio divina,
which draws from the biblical text the living word which
questions, directs and shapes our lives.
Proclaiming the Word
40. To nourish ourselves with the word in order to
be “servants of the word” in the work of evangelization:
this is surely a priority for the Church at the dawn of
the new millennium. Even in countries evangelized many centuries
ago, the reality of a “Christian society” which,
amid all the frailties which have always marked human life,
measured itself explicitly on Gospel values, is now gone.
Today we must courageously face a situation which is becoming
increasingly diversified and demanding, in the context of
“globalization” and of the consequent new and
uncertain mingling of peoples and cultures. Over the years,
I have often repeated the summons to the new evangelization.
I do so again now, especially in order to insist that we
must rekindle in ourselves the impetus of the beginnings
and allow ourselves to be filled with the ardour of the
apostolic preaching which followed Pentecost. We must revive
in ourselves the burning conviction of Paul, who cried out:
“Woe to me if I do not preach the Gospel” (1 Cor
9:16).
This passion will not fail to stir in the Church a new sense
of mission, which cannot be left to a group of “specialists”
but must involve the responsibility of all the members of
the People of God. Those who have come into genuine contact
with Christ cannot keep him for themselves, they must proclaim
him. A new apostolic outreach is needed, which will be lived
as the everyday commitment of Christian communities and
groups. This should be done however with the respect due
to the different paths of different people and with sensitivity
to the diversity of cultures in which the Christian message
must be planted, in such a way that the particular values
of each people will not be rejected but purified and brought
to their fullness.
In the Third Millennium, Christianity will have to respond
ever more effectively to this need for inculturation. Christianity,
while remaining completely true to itself, with unswerving
fidelity to the proclamation of the Gospel and the tradition
of the Church, will also reflect the different faces of
the cultures and peoples in which it is received and takes
root. In this Jubilee Year, we have rejoiced in a special
way in the beauty of the Church’s varied face. This
is perhaps only a beginning, a barely sketched image of
the future which the Spirit of God is preparing for us.
Christ must be presented to all people with confidence.
We shall address adults, families, young people, children,
without ever hiding the most radical demands of the Gospel
message, but taking into account each person’s needs
in regard to their sensitivity and language, after the example
of Paul who declared: “I have become all things to
all men, that I might by all means save some” (1 Cor
9:22). In making these recommendations, I am thinking especially
of the pastoral care of young people. Precisely in regard
to young people, as I said earlier, the Jubilee has given
us an encouraging testimony of their generous availability.
We must learn to interpret that heartening response, by
investing that enthusiasm like a new talent (cf. Mt 25:15)
which the Lord has put into our hands so that we can make
it yield a rich return.
41. May the shining example of the many witnesses
to the faith whom we have remembered during the Jubilee
sustain and guide us in this confident, enterprising and
creative sense of mission. For the Church, the martyrs have
always been a seed of life. Sanguis martyrum semen christianorum:25
this famous “law” formulated by Tertullian has
proved true in all the trials of history. Will this not
also be the case of the century and millennium now beginning?
Perhaps we were too used to thinking of the martyrs in rather
distant terms, as though they were a category of the past,
associated especially with the first centuries of the Christian
era. The Jubilee remembrance has presented us with a surprising
vista, showing us that our own time is particularly prolific
in witnesses, who in different ways were able to live the
Gospel in the midst of hostility and persecution, often
to the point of the supreme test of shedding their blood.
In them the word of God, sown in good soil, yielded a hundred
fold (cf. Mt 13:8, 23). By their example they have shown
us, and made smooth for us, so to speak, the path to the
future. All that remains for us is, with God’s grace,
to follow in their footsteps.
IV
WITNESSES TO LOVE
42. “By this all will know that you are my disciples,
if you have love for one another” (Jn 13:35). If we
have truly contemplated the face of Christ, dear Brothers
and Sisters, our pastoral planning will necessarily be inspired
by the “new commandment” which he gave us: “Love
one another, as I have loved you” (Jn 13:34).
This is the other important area in which there has to be
commitment and planning on the part of the universal Church
and the particular Churches: the domain of communion (koinonia),
which embodies and reveals the very essence of the mystery
of the Church. Communion is the fruit and demonstration
of that love which springs from the heart of the Eternal
Father and is poured out upon us through the Spirit which
Jesus gives us (cf. Rom 5:5), to make us all “one heart
and one soul” (Acts 4:32). It is in building this communion
of love that the Church appears as “sacrament”,
as the “sign and instrument of intimate union with
God and of the unity of the human race”.26
The Lord’s words on this point are too precise for
us to diminish their import. Many things are necessary for
the Church’s journey through history, not least in
this new century; but without charity (agape), all will
be in vain. It is again the Apostle Paul who in the hymn
to love reminds us: even if we speak the tongues of men
and of angels, and if we have faith “to move mountains”,
but are without love, all will come to “nothing”
(cf. 1 Cor 13:2). Love is truly the “heart” of
the Church, as was well understood by Saint Thérèse
of Lisieux, whom I proclaimed a Doctor of the Church precisely
because she is an expert in the scientia amoris: “I
understood that the Church had a Heart and that this Heart
was aflame with Love. I understood that Love alone stirred
the members of the Church to act... I understood that Love
encompassed all vocations, that Love was everything”.27
A spirituality of communion
43. To make the Church the home and the school of
communion: that is the great challenge facing us in the
millennium which is now beginning, if we wish to be faithful
to God’s plan and respond to the world’s deepest
yearnings.
But what does this mean in practice? Here too, our thoughts
could run immediately to the action to be undertaken, but
that would not be the right impulse to follow. Before making
practical plans, we need to promote a spirituality of communion,
making it the guiding principle of education wherever individuals
and Christians are formed, wherever ministers of the altar,
consecrated persons, and pastoral workers are trained, wherever
families and communities are being built up. A spirituality
of communion indicates above all the heart’s contemplation
of the mystery of the Trinity dwelling in us, and whose
light we must also be able to see shining on the face of
the brothers and sisters around us. A spirituality of communion
also means an ability to think of our brothers and sisters
in faith within the profound unity of the Mystical Body,
and therefore as “those who are a part of me”.
This makes us able to share their joys and sufferings, to
sense their desires and attend to their needs, to offer
them deep and genuine friendship. A spirituality of communion
implies also the ability to see what is positive in others,
to welcome it and prize it as a gift from God: not only
as a gift for the brother or sister who has received it
directly, but also as a “gift for me”. A spirituality
of communion means, finally, to know how to “make room”
for our brothers and sisters, bearing “each other’s
burdens” (Gal 6:2) and resisting the selfish temptations
which constantly beset us and provoke competition, careerism,
distrust and jealousy. Let us have no illusions: unless
we follow this spiritual path, external structures of communion
will serve very little purpose. They would become mechanisms
without a soul, “masks” of communion rather than
its means of expression and growth.
44. Consequently, the new century will have to see
us more than ever intent on valuing and developing the forums
and structures which, in accordance with the Second Vatican
Council’s major directives, serve to ensure and safeguard
communion. How can we forget in the first place those specific
services to communion which are the Petrine ministry and,
closely related to it, episcopal collegiality? These are
realities which have their foundation and substance in Christ’s
own plan for the Church,28 but which need to be examined
constantly in order to ensure that they follow their genuinely
evangelical inspiration.
Much has also been done since the Second Vatican Council
for the reform of the Roman Curia, the organization of Synods
and the functioning of Episcopal Conferences. But there
is certainly much more to be done, in order to realize all
the potential of these instruments of communion, which are
especially appropriate today in view of the need to respond
promptly and effectively to the issues which the Church
must face in these rapidly changing times.
45. Communion must be cultivated and extended day
by day and at every level in the structures of each Church’s
life. There, relations between Bishops, priests and deacons,
between Pastors and the entire People of God, between clergy
and Religious, between associations and ecclesial movements
must all be clearly characterized by communion. To this
end, the structures of participation envisaged by Canon
Law, such as the Council of Priests and the Pastoral Council,
must be ever more highly valued. These of course are not
governed by the rules of parliamentary democracy, because
they are consultative rather than deliberative;29 yet this
does not mean that they are less meaningful and relevant.
The theology and spirituality of communion encourage a fruitful
dialogue between Pastors and faithful: on the one hand uniting
them a priori in all that is essential, and on the other
leading them to pondered agreement in matters open to discussion.
To this end, we need to make our own the ancient pastoral
wisdom which, without prejudice to their authority, encouraged
Pastors to listen more widely to the entire People of God.
Significant is Saint Benedict’s reminder to the Abbot
of a monastery, inviting him to consult even the youngest
members of the community: “By the Lord’s inspiration,
it is often a younger person who knows what is best”.30
And Saint Paulinus of Nola urges: “Let us listen to
what all the faithful say, because in every one of them
the Spirit of God breathes”.31
While the wisdom of the law, by providing precise rules
for participation, attests to the hierarchical structure
of the Church and averts any temptation to arbitrariness
or unjustified claims, the spirituality of communion, by
prompting a trust and openness wholly in accord with the
dignity and responsibility of every member of the People
of God, supplies institutional reality with a soul.
The diversity of vocations
46. Such a vision of communion is closely linked
to the Christian community’s ability to make room for
all the gifts of the Spirit. The unity of the Church is
not uniformity, but an organic blending of legitimate diversities.
It is the reality of many members joined in a single body,
the one Body of Christ (cf. 1 Cor 12:12). Therefore the
Church of the Third Millennium will need to encourage all
the baptized and confirmed to be aware of the their active
responsibility in the Church’s life. Together with
the ordained ministry, other ministries, whether formally
instituted or simply recognized, can flourish for the good
of the whole community, sustaining it in all its many needs:
from catechesis to liturgy, from the education of the young
to the widest arra
