Vatican City, 25 February 2016 (VIS) – “L’amore prima del mondo” (“Love before the world”) is the title of a book published by Rizzoli, in the form of 31 letters and drawings sent to the Holy Father by children from various Jesuit institutions from all five continents, asking for advice and explanations, and Francis’ replies. The title is drawn from the Pope’s answer to the question, “What did God do before the world was made?”. The eighty pages of the volume consist of a dialogue between Francis and the Jesuit Fr. Antonio Spadaro, director of La Civilta Cattolica, who took the children’s letters and drawings the Domus Sanctae Marthae last summer and to ask for a response. The Pope accepted the proposal and the resulting book has been released in Italian bookshops today. It will shortly be available in other languages. Francis answers questions on a wide variety of issues, such as how Jesus managed to walk on water: “God doesn’t sink”, and why He created us if He knew we were going to sin against Him: Because God created us like Him. Free. And being free includes the possibility of sinning. … Freedom can be frightening because it cannot be planned. But it is beautiful and it is the greatest gift”. In response to questions from the youngest children regarding the devil and guardian angels, the Pope recalls the importance of liturgy of prayer, or evokes the fantastic imagination of the young: “God defeated the devil on the cross. The devil is like the big scary dragons who are defeated and killed. They have a very long tail which, even if they are beaten and killed, continues to move”. There are also questions regarding war and atrocities; for instance, a child from Nigeria asks how these conflicts could be resolved. “It is necessary to encourage people of good will to speak against war. I cannot solve the conflicts in the world, but you and I can try to make this a better world. We need to convince everyone that the best way to win a war is not to enter into one. It is not easy, I know. But I try. You can try too”. A child from China wants to know why the Pope likes football. “I have never learned well the techniques of the game”, admits Francis. “I don’t have agile feet. But I like to see the team on the field because it is a game of solidarity”. In response to a boy from the United Kingdom asks, “What was your hardest choice in your mission for faith?”, the Holy Father replies, “There are many hard choices, but I have to say that the type of decision that is most difficult for me is to remove someone from a responsible job or a position of trust, or a path they are following, for reasons of unsuitability”….
Are we open to others and capable of mercy,
or do we live locked up within ourselves, slaves to our selfishness? On
Thursday morning, 25 February, the Gospel parable of the rich man and Lazarus
(Lk 16:19-31), presented in the day’s Liturgy, guided Pope Francis in a
reflection on the quality of Christian life. Referring also to the entrance
antiphon (taken from Psalm 139[138]:23-24), the Pontiff emphasized the
importance of asking the Lord for “the grace to know” whether we are “on the
path of lies or on the path of life”. Francis
explained that we are in the wake of the reflection that, in previous days,
spoke of “the religion of doing” and the “religion of talking”. He drew
inspiration from two Gospel characters, the rich man, described as a man who
was “clothed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day”.
The characterization might seem a bit contrived, but it means to show us a
person who “had it all, every opportunity”. Compared to him there is “a poor
man named Lazarus” at his gate, “full of sores, who desired to be fed with what
fell from the rich man’s table; moreover the dogs came and licked his sores”. The
Pope analyzed the description of the characters and pointed out that the rich
man, “who is seen in the final dialogue with Father Abraham”, was a “man of
faith”, who had “studied the law, knew the commandments” and who “surely went
every Sabbath to the Synagogue and once a year to Temple”. In short, he really
was “a man who had a certain religiosity”. At the same time the Gospel
narrative shows that he was also “a closed man, locked up inside his own little
world, the world of banquets, clothes, vanity, friends”. Closed within his
“bubble of vanity”, he “did not have the capacity to look beyond it” and did
not “realize what was happening outside of his closed world”. For example, “he
did not think about the needs of many people or of sick people’s need of
company”. Instead he thought only of himself, “of his wealth, of his good life:
he was given to the good life”. He was, said the Pontiff, concluding his
analysis, a “seemingly religious” man. He was, in fact, a perfect example “of
the religion of talking”. The rich man “did not know the peripheries, he was
completely locked up within himself”. Yet the periphery was “close to the door
of his house”, but “he did not know it”. This, Francis explained, “is the path
of lies”, from which, in the antiphon, we asked the Lord to free us. From
this description, the Pontiff expanded on the interior analysis of the rich
man, a person who “trusted only in himself, in his things”, and “did not trust
in God”. He was a long way from the “blessed man who trusts in the Lord”, who
is contrasted in the Responsorial Psalm, taken from Psalm 1. “What legacy”, the
Pope asked, “did this man leave?”. Surely, he said, again quoting the
Responsorial Psalm, he is not “like a tree planted by streams of water”, but
rather “like the chaff which the wind drives away” (Ps 1:3, 4). This
man had a family; he had brothers. The Gospel narrative recounts that he asked
Father to send someone to caution them: “Stop, this is not the path!”. But he
died, Francis explained, and “he did not leave a legacy, he did not leave life,
because he was only closed within himself”. The
Pontiff emphasized that the aridity of this life was accentuated by a
particular detail: in speaking about this man, the Gospel “does not say what
his name was; it only says that he was a rich man”. This detail is significant,
because “when your name is only an adjective, it is because you have lost:
you’ve lost substance, you’ve lost strength”. One might say: “this person is
rich, this one is powerful, this one can do anything, this one is a career
priest, a career bishop…”. It often happens, the Pope continued, that we
begin to “designate people with adjectives, not with names, because they do not
have substance”. This was the reality of the rich man in the day’s reading. At
this point Francis asked a question: “Didn’t God who is Father, have mercy on
this man? Didn’t he knock at his heart in order to move him?”. The answer:
“Yes, he was at the door, he was at the door, in the person of Lazarus”.
Lazarus: this man has a name. Lazarus, the Pope added, “with his needs and his
miseries, his disease, was actually the Lord who was knocking at the door, so
that this man would open his heart and mercy could enter”. Instead, the rich
man “didn’t see”, because “he was closed”, and “for him there was nothing
beyond the door”. The
Gospel passage, the Pontiff said, is helpful to all of us at the midpoint of
the Lenten journey, in order to raise a few questions: “Am I on the path of
life or on the path of lies? How many locks do I still have on my heart? Where
is my joy: in doing or talking?”. Moreover, is my joy “in going outside of
myself in order to meet others, in order to help”, or “is my joy in having
everything organized, locked up inside myself?”. As
we consider all of this, Pope Francis concluded, “let us ask the Lord” for the
grace “to always see the Lazarus who knocks at our heart” and for the grace to
“go outside of ourselves with generosity, with an attitude of mercy, so that
God’s mercy can enter our heart”….
(Vatican Radio) To truly live our faith, we must recognize the poor who are near to us. In them, Jesus Himself knocks at the door of our heart: that was Pope Francis’ message during the morning Mass at Casa Santa Marta on Thursday.
Christians in a bubble of vanity
In the Gospel of the day, Jesus tells the parable of the rich man “who dressed in purple garments and fine linen and dined sumptuously each day,” and who did not recognize that at his door there was a poor man named Lazarus, who was covered with sores. The Pope invited us to ask ourselves the question: “Am I a Christian in name only, on the path of lies; or am I a Christian on the path of life, that is, of works, of actions.” The rich man of the parable, he said, “knew the commandments, surely went every Saturday to the synagogue, and once a year to the Temple.” He had “a certain religiosity”:
“But he was a closed man, closed in his own little world – the world of banquets, of clothes, of vanity, of friends – a closed man, truly in a bubble of vanity. He didn’t have the ability to see others, only his own world. And this man did not recognize the things that happened beyond his closed world. For example, he didn’t think of the needs of so many people, or of the necessity of accompanying of the sick; he though only of himself, of his wealth, of his good life: he was given to the good life.”
The poor man is the Lord, who knocks at the door of our heart
The rich man, then, had the appearance of being religious, but did not know the “peripheries,” he was completely “closed in on himself.” It is precisely the “peripheries” on his very doorstep that he could not see. He took the “way of falsehood,” because he “trusted only in himself, in his things – he did not trust in God.” He was a man who wasn’t able to properly receive his inheritance, or live his life, because “he was closed in on himself.” And, the Pope said, “it is curious – the man had lost his name. It says only that he was a rich man, and when your name is only an adjective, it is because you have lost [something], you have lost substance, you have lost strength.”
“This wealth, this is power, this can accomplish anything, this is a priest with a career, a bishop with a career… How many times [do] we [do this]?… It amounts to naming people with adjectives, not with names, because they have no substance. But I ask myself, ‘Did not God, who is a Father, have mercy on this man? Did He not knock on his heart to move him?” But yes, he was at the door, in the person of that man Lazarus, who had a name. And Lazarus, with his needs and his sorrows, his illnesses – it was the Lord Himself who was knocking at the door, so that this man would open his heart and mercy would be able to enter. But no, he did not see, he was simply closed: for him, outside the door there was nothing.”
The grace to see the poor
We are in Lent, the Pope noted, and it would do us good to ask ourselves what path we are travelling on:
“‘Am I on the road of life, or on the road of lies? How many ways is my heart still closed? Where is my joy: in doing, or in speaking? In going out of myself to meet others, to help them? The works of mercy, eh? Or is my joy in having everything organized, closed in on myself?’ Let us ask the Lord, while we’re thinking about it – no, throughout our life – for the grace of always seeing the Lazarus at our door, the Lazarus who knocks at our heart, and [the grace] to go out of ourselves with generosity, with the attitude of mercy, so that the mercy of God can enter into our hearts.
(from Vatican Radio)…
(Vatican Radio) Jesuit Father Federico Lombardi steps down as Director General of Vatican Radio at the end of February, in the context of a major overhaul of the Holy See’s media and communications organisations.
After a quarter of a century of service at Vatican Radio, 12 years as head of the Vatican Television Centre (CTV) and a decade as director of the Holy See press office, Fr Lombardi reflected on the lasting legacy of the Radio and his vision for the future of Vatican communications.
Philippa Hitchen takes a closer look……..
Listen:
When the former superior of the Italian Jesuits was appointed as director of programmes at Vatican Radio, he’s the first to admit he had no radio experience and was unfamiliar with the complex machinations of the world’s smallest city state.
What he did have, however, was over 10 years’ experience with the prestigious Jesuit magazine ‘Civiltà Cattolica’ and a mathematical mind which, he says, helped him to make the transition from lengthy, erudite articles to short, succinct radio stories.
Vatican Radio became his “home”, Fr Lombardi says, where he was fascinated by the wealth of cultural diversity, with employees from over 60 nations, working in almost 40 language programmes with some 15 different alphabets. Cutting down on that rich diversity to save costs, he warns, would be “a real impoverishment of Vatican communications”.
Fr Lombardi admits his biggest regret was the inability to convince his superiors to begin broadcasting in Hausa, one of the main languages of northern Nigeria, currently wracked by the violence of the Boko Haram terrorist group. With running costs of less than 30 euros a day, plus support from both Nigeria’s bishops and local Nigerian religious communities he says, the Radio could have provided a small but vital sign of support for some of the poorest and most persecuted Catholics on the African continent. Within the DNA of the Radio throughout its 85 year history, Fr Lombardi insists, there has always been a sense of service to the poor and oppressed minorities, rather than a slavish addiction to improving audience ratings.
With the advent of new technologies, Fr Lombardi says he sought to lead the Radio from exclusively audio production into a broader, multi-media provider – something that wasn’t always understood by its critics. Furthermore, he notes, the Radio continues to provide other, less visible services, such as technical audio support for papal ceremonies, Vatican input at international telecommunications conferences, translation and language services, documentation and archive material – and all this, while implementing a significant downsizing of staff over the past decade.
Fr Lombardi’s departure from the Palazzo Pio headquarters marks the end of an era for the Jesuits too, whom Pope Pius XI entrusted with the running of the Radio back in 1931. Pope Francis has made clear he wants the order to continue working in communications, though it’s not yet clear how that service may take shape. The name – Vatican Radio – will also cease to exist in the coming months, as it becomes more closely incorporated into a combined output of TV, newspaper, web and social media production. What Fr Lombardi says he hopes will remain at the heart of the new media operation is the dedication of those committed to their mission of sharing the Good News with those on the margins of today’s ‘throwaway culture’.
(from Vatican Radio)…
(Vatican Radio) Pope Francis has answered 30 questions presented to him from children from around the world. Loyola Press is publishing the responses in a book due to be published on 1 March called Dear Pope Francis .
The United States-based Jesuit publishing house approached Pope Francis about the idea last year, and received a positive response. They then asked Jesuits from around the world to collect questions from children aged 6-13, including Catholics and non-Catholics. They also asked the children to send drawings, which are included in the book.
They received 259 questions from 26 countries in 14 languages. The book’s editor, Fr. Paul Campbell, SJ, then sat down with a committee and chose the questions to send the Pope.
“One of the lines we use to describe this book is: Little children have big questions,” Fr. Campbell told Vatican Radio.
Listen to the interview by Alessandro Gisotti with Father Paul Campbell, SJ:
“Yes they are questions from little children, but they are very, very profound questions,” – Fr. Campbell said – “The Holy Father was very clear that it was terribly difficult to answer these questions.”
The Jesuit priest said one thing that comes out of reading the book is the Holy Father’s profound sensitivity to the suffering of children around the world.
“I believe it was William from the United States who asked the question if you could cause one miracle…what would it be? And the Holy Father said ‘to stop the suffering of children’,” – Father Campbell explained – “and it is very clear to me that the Holy Father’s heart is full of compassion for those who suffer.”
This book is only a small way of giving suffering people hope.
“The Holy Father wants to reach out to children and adults to everyone who experiences suffering – which means all of us – to tell us that he does not understand suffering, that he cannot explain it, but that he does believe that Jesus did suffer for us, and that is the only thing that gives him hope and comfort,” Father Campbell said.
(from Vatican Radio)…