(Vatican Radio) Pope Francis on Saturday welcomed deacons from the International Diaconate Center in a private audience, reminding them of Jesus’ commandment of love and their vocation to service as an expression of that love.
Listen to Devin Watkins’ report:
In remarks to the delegates from the International Diaconate Center, Pope Francis focused on the early Church’s foundation of the diaconate as a concrete expression of Jesus’ new commandment of love.
He also said their 50th anniversary, which takes place in this Jubilee of Mercy, provides “a spiritual context aimed at renewing in us awareness of the importance of mercy in our lives and in our ministry”.
The Holy Father said Jesus Himself is the newness of the new commandment of love in the Gospel of John.
“The Lord Jesus entrusted the Apostles with a new commandment: “love one another. As I have loved you, so you also should love one another”. Jesus Himself is this ‘newness’. He gave us an example so that, as He did, we should also do… By loving one another, the disciples continue the mission for which the Son of God came into the world. They understand, with the help of the Holy Spirit, that this commandment involves service to our brothers and sisters.”
This realization of the necessity of service along with the concrete needs of the early Christian community, the Pope said, led the disciples to implement the diaconate, a word which literally means service.
He said, “Deacons manifest the commandment of Jesus in a particular way: imitating God in the service of others; imitating God who is love and desires to serve us. The manner of God’s acting – that is, His acting with patience, goodness, compassion, and willingness to make us better persons – these must also characterize all ministers. It is especially deacons who are the face of the Church in the daily life of a community, which lives and journeys in the midst of the people and in which the greatest is not the one who commands, but the one who serves”
Pope Francis concluded by telling the deacons, “May the Lord sustain you in your service and help you arrive at an ever deeper faith in His love, so that you may live it in joy and dedication.”
Below is Vatican Radio’s English translation of the Pope’s remarks:
Dear Brothers,
It’s my pleasure to welcome you in occasion of the 50th anniversary of the International Center of the Diaconate, which you celebrated at the end of last year. Your visit takes place during the Holy Year of Mercy, which provides a spiritual context aimed at renewing in us awareness of the importance of mercy in our lives and in our ministry. I thank you all for your presence, and I especially thank Mons. Fürst and Prof. Kießling for their kind words.
The Lord Jesus entrusted the Apostles with a new commandment: “love one another. As I have loved you, so you also should love one another” (Jn 13,34). Jesus Himself is this ‘newness’. He gave us an example so that, as He did, we should also do (cf. Jn 13,15). That commandment of love is the last will of Jesus, given to the disciples in the upper room after the washing of the disciples’ feet. Shortly afterwards he underlines: “This is my commandment: love one another as I have loved you” (Jn 15,12). By loving one another, the disciples continue the mission for which the Son of God came into the world. They understand, with the help of the Holy Spirit, that this commandment involves service to our brothers and sisters. In order to provide for the concrete care of people and their necessities, the Apostles chose several “deacons”, that is, servants. Deacons manifest the commandment of Jesus in a particular way: imitating God in the service of others; imitating God who is love and desires to serve us. The manner of God’s acting – that is, His acting with patience, goodness, compassion, and willingness to make us better persons – these must also characterize all ministers: Bishops as successors of the Apostles, priests – their collaborators – and deacons in the concrete “serving at table” (Acts 6,2). It is especially deacons who are the face of the Church in the daily life of a community, which lives and journeys in the midst of the people and in which the greatest is not the one who commands, but the one who serves (cf. Lk 22,26).
Dear deacons, I hope your pilgrimage to Rome during this Jubilee Year is an intense experience of the mercy of God and that it helps you to grow in your vocation as ministers of Christ. May the Lord sustain you in your service and help you arrive at an ever deeper faith in His love, so that you may live it in joy and dedication. Know that my prayer and my blessing is with you always, and please do not forget to pray for me. Thank you.
(from Vatican Radio)…
(Vatican Radio) Pope Francis on Friday evening made an unexpected appearance at the Judges’ Summit on Human Trafficking and Organized Crime, a two day conference taking place in the Vatican and organized by the Pontifical Academy of Social Sciences.
Listen to Devin Watkins’ report:
Speaking to judges and prosecutors from around the world, the Holy Father asked them “to fulfill their vocation and their crucial mission — to establish justice — without which there is neither order nor sustainable and integral development, nor social peace”.
He said judges’ unique contribution to humanity is a result of their ‘understanding of indifference and its extreme forms in a globalized world’.
This situation of globalized indifference has led to the creation of ‘structures of sin’, from which judges must be free by vocation.
“Taking charge of one’s own vocation also means feeling, and proclaiming oneself, free from the pressures of governments, private institutions and, of course, the ‘structures of sin’ of which my predecessor John Paul II spoke, particularly in regard to organised crime. Without this freedom, a nation’s judiciary is corrupted and corrupting.”
Pope Francis went on to say that the reason for the Judges’ Summit was to help fulfill Goal 8.7 of the United Nations’ new sustainable Development Goals, that is, to eradicate forced labour, modern slavery, and human trafficking.
“We must generate a crosscutting wave of “good vibes” to embrace the whole of society from top to bottom, from the periphery to the centre and back, from leaders to communities, and from villages and public opinion to the key players in society. As the religious, social and civic leaders have realized, achieving this requires that judges too become fully aware of this challenge, feeling the importance of their responsibility towards society, sharing their experiences and best practices and acting together to break down barriers and open new paths of justice to promote human dignity, freedom, responsibility, happiness and, ultimately, peace.”
The Holy Father reminded the judges that to ‘execute justice’ means not seeking punishment as an end in itself, but that penalties are for the re-education of the wrongdoers in the hope of their reintegration into society.
Turning to the needs of victims, he said “Judges today are called more than ever to focus on the needs of victims. The victims are the first who need to be rehabilitated and reintegrated into society — and their traffickers and executioners must be given no quarter and pursued.”
The Pope concluded with a reference to the Beatitudes from the Gospel of Matthew. “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, those who suffer for justice, blessed are the peacemakers, blessed by our Father are those who treat the most needy and least of my brothers and sisters as myself. They — and here I am referring especially to judges — will have the highest reward: they shall inherit the earth, and they will be called children of God.”
The offical English translation of Pope Francis’ address can be found below:
I would like to warmly greet you and renew the expression of my esteem for your cooperation and contribution towards human and social progress, a task of which the Pontifical Academy of Social Sciences is more than capable.
If I’m happy for this contribution and proud of you, it is in consideration of the remarkable service you can offer to humanity — both through an understanding of indifference and its extreme forms in the globalised world — and through solutions facing this challenge, trying to improve the living conditions of the needy among our brothers and sisters. Following Christ, the Church is called to engage and to be faithful to people, even more in the case of situations where open wounds and dramatic suffering are present, and where values, ethics, social sciences and faith are involved; situations in which the testimony of you all as individuals and humanists, together with your own social expertise, is particularly appreciated.
In the course of these recent years there have been many important activities at the Pontifical Academy of Social Sciences under the vigorous drive of its President, Chancellor and some external collaborators of prestigious reputation, whom I thank from the heart. Activities in defence of the dignity and freedom of men and women today and, in particular, to eradicate human trafficking and smuggling and the new forms of slavery such as forced labour, prostitution, organ trafficking, the drug trade and organised crime. As my predecessor Benedict XVI said, and I’ve affirmed it myself on several occasions, these are real crimes against humanity that should be recognised as such by all religious, political and social leaders — and reflected in national and international laws.
The meeting on 2 December 2014 with the leaders of today’s most influential religions in this globalised world, and the summit on 21 July 2015 with the mayors of the major cities of the world, have shown the willingness of this Academy to pursue the eradication of new forms of slavery. I hold a special memory of these two meetings, as well as the noteworthy youth symposiums, all due to the initiative of the Academy.
Now, inspired by the same motivation, the Academy has brought you together, judges and prosecutors from around the world, with practical experience and wisdom in eradicating human trafficking, smuggling and organised crime. You have come here representing your colleagues with the praiseworthy aim of making progress in spreading awareness of these scourges and consequently manifesting your irreplaceable mission to face the new challenges posed by the globalisation of indifference, responding to society’s growing concern and respecting national and international laws. Taking charge of one’s own vocation also means feeling, and proclaiming oneself, free from the pressures of governments, private institutions and, of course, the “structures of sin” of which my predecessor John Paul II spoke, particularly in regard to organised crime. Without this freedom, a nation’s judiciary is corrupted and corrupting.
Fortunately, for the realisation of this complex and delicate human and Christian project of freeing humanity from the new slaveries and organised crime, which the Academy has undertaken following my request, we can also count on the important and decisive synergy with the United Nations. I am thankful that the representatives of the 193 UN member states unanimously approved the new Sustainable Development Goals, and in particular Goal 8.7. This reads: “Take immediate and effective measures to eradicate forced labour, end modern slavery and human trafficking and secure the prohibition and elimination of the worst forms of child labour, including recruitment and use of child soldiers, and by 2025 end child labour in all its forms”. We can very well say that such goals and targets are now a moral imperative for all member states of the UN.
To this end, we must generate a crosscutting wave of “good vibes” to embrace the whole of society from top to bottom and vice versa, from the periphery to the centre and back, from leaders to communities, and from villages and public opinion to the key players in society. As the religious, social and civic leaders have realised, achieving this requires that judges too become fully aware of this challenge, feeling the importance of their responsibility towards society, sharing their experiences and best practices and acting together to break down barriers and open new paths of justice to promote human dignity, freedom, responsibility, happiness and, ultimately, peace. Without over-extending a metaphor, we could say that the judge is to justice as the religious leader and the philosopher are to morality, and the ruler — or whichever personalised figure of sovereign power — is to the political. But only in the figure of the judge is justice recognised as the first attribute of society.
In calling together these judges, the Academy wants nothing more than to cooperate, within its means, with the UN’s mandate. I take this opportunity, therefore, to thank those nations whose Ambassadors to the Holy See have not shown themselves indifferent or unfairly critical, but, on the contrary, have actively collaborated with the Academy to make this summit possible.
I ask the judges to fulfil their vocation and their crucial mission — to establish justice — without which there is neither order nor sustainable and integral development, nor social peace. Undoubtedly, one of the greatest social ills of the world today is corruption at all levels, which weakens any government, participatory democracy and the activity of justice. Judges, you are responsible for executing justice, and I you to pay special attention to justice in the field of human trafficking and smuggling and, against this and organised crime, I ask you to take care not to fall into a web of corruption.
When we say “execute justice”, as you well know, we do not mean seeking punishment as an end in itself, but in the case of penalties, that they be for the re-education of the wrongdoers in the hope that they can be reintegrated into society. “Not even a murderer loses his personal dignity, and God himself pledges to guarantee this” (John Paul II, EV, nr. 9). And if this delicate connection between justice and mercy applies to those responsible for crimes against humanity as well as for every human being, it is a fortiori true especially for the victims who, as the term suggests, are more passive than active in the exercise of their freedom, having fallen into the trap of the new slave hunters. These victims are too often betrayed even in the most intimate and sacred part of themselves, that is to say, in the love they aspire to give and take. Their family owes it to them or their suitors or husbands promise it to them, but end up selling them instead into the forced labour and prostitution market or selling them into the organ trade.
Judges today are called more than ever to focus on the needs of the victims. The victims are the first who need to be rehabilitated and reintegrated into society — and their traffickers and executioners must be given no quarter and pursued. The old adage that these things have existed since the world began is meaningless. Victims can recover and in fact we know that they can regain control of their lives with the help of good judges, social workers and society as a whole. We know a good number of survivors who are now lawyers, politicians, brilliant writers, or have a successful job serving the common good in a valid way. We know how important it is that each former victim is encouraged to talk about their having been a victim as a past experience now valiantly overcome; of being a survivor or rather, a person with a life of quality, whose dignity has been restored and freedom claimed.
You are called to give hope and to do justice. From the widow seeking justice insistently (Lk: 18,1-8), to the victims of today, all fuel a desire for justice and a hope that the injustice that passes through this world is not final, that it does not have the last word.
Perhaps it may help to apply, according to the characteristics of each country, on every continent and in every legal tradition, the Italian practice of recovering the ill-gotten gains of traffickers and criminals and offering them to society and, in particular, for the reintegration of the victims. Rehabilitation of victims and their reintegration into society, always a real possibility, is the greatest good we can do for them, for community and for social peace.
If there is anything that runs through the Beatitudes and the protocol of divine judgment according to the Gospel of Matthew (Ch. 25), it is the issue of justice: Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, those who suffer for justice, blessed are those who mourn, blessed are the meek, blessed are the peacemakers, blessed by our Father are those who treat the most needy and least of my brothers and sisters as myself. They — and here I am referring especially to judges — will have the highest reward: they shall inherit the earth, and they will be called children of God, they shall see God, and enjoy eternity with the heavenly Father.
In this spirit, I am encouraged to ask judges, prosecutors and academics to continue their work and carry out, within their own means and with the help of Grace, successful initiatives that honour them in the service of people and the common good.
(from Vatican Radio)…
(Vatican Radio) Pope Francis celebrated Holy Mass for the conclusion of the Jubilee for Priests on Friday, the Solemnity of the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus.
In his homily for the feast, the Holy Father reflected on “two hearts: the Heart of the Good Shepherd” and the hearts of priests.
“The Heart of the Good Shepherd is not only the Heart that shows us mercy, but is itself mercy,” the Pope said. He reminded priests that “the Heart of the Good Shepherd reaches out to us, above all to those who are most distant.”
The contemplation of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, the Heart of the Good Shepherd, is an invitation to priests to reflect on the question, “Where is my heart directed?” Priestly ministry, the Pope said, is often caught up in “plans, projects, and activities.” While this is necessary, the Holy Father invited priests to consider that the Heart of Jesus is directed to two treasures: the Father and ourselves. Jesus’ days, he said, “were divided between prayer to the Father and encountering people.” Like Jesus, the priest should have his heart turned towards God and towards his brothers and sisters.
Pope Francis than offered three suggestions to help priests’ hearts “burn with the charity of the Good Shepherd”: seek out; include; and rejoice. Like the Good Shepherd who goes out to find the lost sheep, priests must not only “keep the doors open,” but actively go out to find those who are lost. Priests, too, must be inclusive, welcoming all. No one, the Pope said, must be excluded “from his heart, his prayer, or his smile.” Finally, the joy of Jesus “the Good Shepherd is not a joy for himself alone, but a joy for others and with others, the true joy of love” and this is “also the joy of the priest.”
The Holy Father concluded his homily by recalling the words of consecration, prayed by priests each day at the Mass: “This is My Body, which is given up for you.” This, he told the assembled priests, “This is the meaning of our life; with these words, in a real way we can daily renew the promises we made at our priestly ordination” — and he thanked them for saying “yes” to giving their lives “in union with Jesus.”
The full text of the Holy Father’s homily can be found here .
(from Vatican Radio)…
(Vatican Radio) On Friday 3 June, Pope Francis celebrated Holy Mass with priests in St Peter’s Square as part of a special Jubilee of Mercy for Priests.
Please find below the prepared text for the Holy Father’s Homily:
This celebration of the Jubilee for Priests on the Solemnity of the Sacred Heart of Jesus invites us all to turn to the heart, the deepest root and foundation of every person, the focus of our affective life and, in a word, his or her very core. Today we contemplate two hearts: the Heart of the Good Shepherd and our own heart as priests .
The Heart of the Good Shepherd is not only the Heart that shows us mercy, but is itself mercy. There the Father’s love shines forth; there I know I am welcomed and understood as I am; there, with all my sins and limitations, I know the certainty that I am chosen and loved. Contemplating that heart, I renew my first love: the memory of that time when the Lord touched my soul and called me to follow him, the memory of the joy of having cast the nets of our life upon the sea of his word (cf. Lk 5:5).
The Heart of the Good Shepherd tells us that his love is limitless; it is never exhausted and it never gives up. There we see his infinite and boundless self-giving; there we find the source of that faithful and meek love which sets free and makes others free; there we constantly discover anew that Jesus loves us “even to the end” ( Jn 13:1), without ever being imposing.
The Heart of the Good Shepherd reaches out to us, above all to those who are most distant. There the needle of his compass inevitably points, there we see a particular “weakness” of his love, which desires to embrace all and lose none.
Contemplating the Heart of Christ, we are faced with the fundamental question of our priestly life: Where is my heart directed? Our ministry is often full of plans, projects and activities: from catechesis to liturgy, to works of charity, to pastoral and administrative commitments. Amid all these, we must still ask ourselves: What is my heart set on, where is it directed, what is the treasure that it seeks? For as Jesus says: “Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also” ( Mt 6:21).
The great riches of the Heart of Jesus are two: the Father and ourselves. His days were divided between prayer to the Father and encountering people. So too the heart of Christ’s priests knows only two directions: the Lord and his people . The heart of the priest is a heart pierced by the love of the Lord. For this reason, he no longer looks to himself, but is turned towards God and his brothers and sisters. It is no longer “a fluttering heart”, allured by momentary whims, shunning disagreements and seeking petty satisfactions. Rather, it is a heart rooted firmly in the Lord, warmed by the Holy Spirit, open and available to our brothers and sisters.
To help our hearts burn with the charity of Jesus the Good Shepherd, we can train ourselves to do three things suggested to us by today’s readings: seek out , include and rejoice .
Seek out . The prophet Ezekiel reminds us that God himself goes out in search of his sheep ( Ez 34:11, 16). As the Gospel says, he “goes out in search of the one who is lost” ( Lk 15:4), without fear of the risks. Without delaying, he leaves the pasture and his regular workday. He does not put off the search. He does not think: “I have done enough for today; I’ll worry about it tomorrow”. Instead, he immediately sets to it; his heart is anxious until he finds that one lost sheep. Having found it, he forgets his weariness and puts the sheep on his shoulders, fully content.
Such is a heart that seeks out – a heart that does not set aside times and spaces as private, a heart that is not jealous of its legitimate quiet time and never demands that it be left alone. A shepherd after the heart of God does not protect his own comfort zone; he is not worried about protecting his good name, but rather, without fearing criticism, he is disposed to take risks in seeking to imitate his Lord.
A shepherd after the heart of God has a heart sufficiently free to set aside his own concerns. He does not live by calculating his gains or how long he has worked: he is not an accountant of the Spirit, but a Good Samaritan who seeks out those in need. For the flock he is a shepherd, not an inspector, and he devotes himself to the mission not fifty or sixty percent, but with all he has. In seeking, he finds, and he finds because he takes risks. He does not stop when disappointed and he does not yield to weariness. Indeed, he is stubborn in doing good , anointed with the divine obstinacy that loses sight of no one. Not only does he keep his doors open, but he also goes to seek out those who no longer wish to enter them. Like every good Christian, and as an example for every Christian, he constantly goes out of himself . The epicentre of his heart is outside of himself. He is not drawn by his own “I”, but by the “Thou” of God and by the “we” of other men and women.
Include . Christ loves and knows his sheep. He gives his life for them, and no one is a stranger to him (cf. Jn 10:11-14). His flock is his family and his life. He is not a boss to feared by his flock, but a shepherd who walks alongside them and calls them by name (cf. Jn 10:3-4). He wants to gather the sheep that are not yet of his fold (cf. Jn 10:16).
So it is also with the priest of Christ. He is anointed for his people, not to choose his own projects but to be close to the real men and women whom God has entrusted to him. No one is excluded from his heart, his prayers or his smile. With a father’s loving gaze and heart, he welcomes and includes everyone, and if at times he has to correct, it is to draw people closer. He stands apart from no one, but is always ready to dirty his hands. As a minister of the communion that he celebrates and lives, he does not await greetings and compliments from others, but is the first to reach out, rejecting gossip, judgements and malice. He listens patiently to the problems of his people and accompanies them, sowing God’s forgiveness with generous compassion. He does not scold those who wander off or lose their way, but is always ready to bring them back and to resolve difficulties and disagreements.
Rejoice . God is “full of joy” (cf. Lk 15:5). His joy is born of forgiveness, of life risen and renewed, of prodigal children who breathe once more the sweet air of home. The joy of Jesus the Good Shepherd is not a joy for himself alone, but a joy for others and with others , the true joy of love. This is also the joy of the priest. He is changed by the mercy that he freely gives. In prayer he discovers God’s consolation and realizes that nothing is more powerful than his love. He thus experiences inner peace, and is happy to be a channel of mercy, to bring men and women closer to the Heart of God. Sadness for him is not the norm, but only a step along the way; harshness is foreign to him, because he is a shepherd after the meek Heart of God.
Dear priests, in the Eucharistic celebration we rediscover each day our identity as shepherds. In every Mass, may we truly make our own the words of Christ: “This is my body, which is given up for you.” This is the meaning of our life; with these words, in a real way we can daily renew the promises we made at our priestly ordination. I thank all of you for saying “yes” to giving your life in union with Jesus : for in this is found the pure source of our joy.
(from Vatican Radio)…
(Vatican Radio) The theme of the Pope’s third meditation at a spiritual retreat held on Thursday at the Papal Basilica of St. Paul’s Outside the Walls was “the good odour of Christ and the light of his mercy.”
Listen to the report by Lydia O’Kane :
At the heart of his reflection were the Works of Mercy saying as priests, “being merciful is not only “a way of life”, but “the way of life”, adding, “there is no other way of being a priest.”
Drawing from the passage of the Lord’s encounter with the woman caught in adultery, the Pope explained that when Jesus says “Go and sin no more”, “his command has to do with the future, to help her to make a new start and to “walk in love”. Such is the sensitivity of mercy, the Holy Father continued. “ it looks with compassion on the past and offers encouragement for the future.”
Focusing his attention of the Sacrament of Confession Pope Francis noted that “people come to confession because they are penitent. They come to confession because they want to change.”
During his meditation, the Pope also invited priests to let themselves “be moved by people’s situation, which at times is a mixture of their own doing, human weakness, sin and insuperable conditionings. He went on to say, “we have to be like Jesus, who was deeply moved by the sight of people and their problems…”
The Jubilee for priests concludes on Friday with Holy Mass presided over by Pope Francis in St Peter’s Square.
Please find below the English language of Pope Francis’ meditation preached at St Paul’s Outside the Walls
THIRD MEDITATION:
THE GOOD ODOUR OF CHRIST AND THE LIGHT OF HIS MERCY
In this, our third meeting, I propose that we meditate on the works of mercy, by taking whichever one we feel is most closely linked to our charism, and by looking at them as a whole. We can contemplate them through the merciful eyes of Our Lady, who helps us to find “the wine that is lacking” and encourages us to “do whatever Jesus tells us” (cf. Jn 2:1-12), so that his mercy can work the miracles that our people need.
The works of mercy are closely linked to the “spiritual senses”. In our prayer we ask for the grace so to “feel and savour” the Gospel that it can make us more “sensitive” in our lives. Moved by the Spirit and led by Jesus, we can see from afar, with the eyes of mercy, those who have fallen along the wayside. We can hear the cries of Bartimaeus and feel with Jesus the timid yet determined touch of the woman suffering from haemorrhage, as she grasps his robe. We can ask for the grace to taste with the crucified Jesus the bitter gall of all those who share in his cross, and smell the stench of misery – in field hospitals, in trains and in boats crammed with people. The balm of mercy does not disguise this stench. Rather, by anointing it, it awakens new hope.
The Catechism of the Catholic Church, in discussing the works of mercy, tells us that “when her mother reproached her for care for the poor and the sick at home, Saint Rose of Lima said to her: ‘When we serve the poor and the sick, we are the good odour of Christ’” (No. 2449, Latin). That good odour of Christ – the care of the poor – is, and always has been, the hallmark of the Church. Paul made it the focus of his meeting with Peter, James and John, the “columns” of the Church. He tells us that they “asked only one thing, that we remember the poor” (Gal 2:10). The Catechism goes on to say, significantly, that “those who are oppressed by poverty are the object of a preferential love on the part of the Church, which from her origins, and in spite of the failings of many of her members, has not ceased to work for their relief, defence and liberation” (No. 2448).
In the Church we have, and have always had, our sins and failings. But when it comes to serving the poor by the works of mercy, as a Church we have always followed the promptings of the Spirit. Our saints did this in quite creative and effective ways. Love for the poor has been the sign, the light that draws people to give glory to the Father. Our people value this in a priest who cares for the poor and the sick, for those whose sins he forgives and for those whom he patiently teaches and corrects… Our people forgive us priests many failings, except for that of attachment to money. This does not have so much to do with money itself, but the fact that money makes us lose the treasure of mercy. Our people can sniff out which sins are truly grave for a priest, the sins that kill his ministry because they turn him into a bureaucrat or, even worse, a mercenary. They can also recognize which sins are, I won’t say secondary, but that have to be put up with, borne like a cross, until the Lord at last burns them away like the chaff. But the failure of a priest to be merciful is a glaring contradiction. It strikes at the heart of salvation, against Christ, who “became poor so that by his poverty we might become rich” (cf. 2 Cor 8:9). Because mercy heals “by losing something of itself”. We feel a pang of regret and we lose a part of our life, because rather than do what we wanted to do, we reached out to someone else.
So it is not about God showing me mercy for this or that sin, as if I were otherwise self-sufficient, or about us performing some act of mercy towards this or that person in need. The grace we seek in this prayer is that of letting ourselves be shown mercy by God in every aspect of our lives and in turn to show mercy to others in all that we do. As priests and bishops, we work with the sacraments, baptizing, hearing confessions, celebrating the Eucharist… Mercy is our way of making the entire life of God’s people a sacrament. Being merciful is not only “a way of life”, but “the way of life”. There is no other way of being a priest. Father Brochero, soon to be canonized, put it this way: “The priest who has scarce pity for sinners is only half a priest. These vestments I wear are not what make me a priest; if I don’t have charity in my heart, I am not even a Christian.”
To see needs and to bring immediate relief, and even more, to anticipate those needs: this is the mark of a father’s gaze. This priestly gaze – which takes the place of the father in the heart of Mother Church – makes us see people with the eyes of mercy. It has to be learned from seminary on, and it must enrich all our pastoral plans and projects. We desire, and we ask the Lord to give us, a gaze capable of discerning the signs of the times, to know “what works of mercy our people need today” in order to feel and savour the God of history who walks among them. For, as Aparecida says, quoting Saint Alberto Hurtado: “In our works, our people know that we understand their suffering” (No. 386). In our works…
The proof that we understand is that our works of mercy are blessed by God and meet with help and cooperation from our people. Some plans and projects do not work out well, without people ever realizing why. They rack their brains trying to come up with yet another pastoral plan, when all somebody has to say is: “It’s not working because it lacks mercy”, with no further ado. If it is not blessed, it is because it lacks mercy. It lacks the mercy found in a field hospital, not in expensive clinics; it lacks the mercy that values goodness and opens the door to an encounter with God, rather than turning someone away with sharp criticism…
I am going to propose a prayer about the woman whose sins were forgiven (Jn 8:3-11), to ask for the grace to be merciful in the confessional, and another prayer about the social dimension of the works of mercy.
I have always been struck by the passage of the Lord’s encounter with the woman caught in adultery, and how, by refusing to condemn her, he “fell short of” the Law. In response to the question they asked to test him – “should she be stoned or not?” – he did not rule, he did not apply the law. He played dumb, and then turned to something else. He thus initiated a process in the heart of the woman who needed to hear those words: “Neither do I condemn you”. He stretched out his hand and helped her to her feet, letting her see a gentle gaze that changed her heart.
Sometimes I feel a little saddened and annoyed when people go straight to the last words Jesus speaks to her: “Go and sin no more”. They use these words to “defend” Jesus from bypassing the law. I believe that Christ’s words are of a piece with his actions. He bends down to write on the ground as a prelude to what he is about to say to those who want to stone the woman, and he does so again before talking to her. This tells us something about the “time” that the Lord takes in judging and forgiving. The time he gives each person to look into his or her own heart and then to walk away. In talking to the woman, the Lord opens other spaces: one is that of non-condemnation. The Gospel clearly mentions this open space. It makes us see things through the eyes of Jesus, who tells us: “I see no one else but this woman”.
Then Jesus makes the woman herself look around. He asks her: “Where are those who condemned you?” (The word “condemn” is itself important, since it is about what we find unacceptable about those who judge or caricature us…). Once he has opened before her eyes this space freed of other people’s judgements, he tells her that neither will he throw a stone there: “Nor do I condemn you”. Then he opens up another free space before her: “Go and sin no more”. His command has to do with the future, to help her to make a new start and to “walk in love”. Such is the sensitivity of mercy: it looks with compassion on the past and offers encouragement for the future.
Those words, “Go and sin no more” are not easy. The Lord says them “with her”. He helps her put into words what she herself feels, a free “no” to sin that is like Mary’s “yes” to grace. That “no” has to be said to the deeply-rooted sin present in everyone. In that woman, it was a social sin; people approached her either to sleep with her or to throw stones at her. That is why the Lord does not only clear the path before her, but sets her on her way, so that she can stop being the “object” of other people’s gaze and instead take control of her life. Those words, “sin no more” refer not only to morality, but, I believe, to a kind of sin that keeps her from living her life. Jesus also told the paralytic at Bethzatha to sin no more (Jn 5:14). But that man had justified himself with all the sad things that had “happened to him”; he suffered from a victim complex. So Jesus challenged him ever so slightly by saying: “…lest something worse happen to you”. The Lord took advantage of his way of thinking, his fears, to draw him out of his paralysis. He gave him a little scare, we might say. The point is that each of us has to hear the words “sin no more” in his own deeply personal way.
This image of the Lord who sets people on their way is very typical. He is the God who walks at his people’s side, who leads them forward, who accompanies our history. Hence, the object of his mercy is quite clear: it is everything that keeps a man or a woman from walking on the right path, with their own people, at their own pace, to where God is asking them to go. What troubles him is that people get lost, or fall behind, or try to go it on their own. That they end up nowhere. That they are not there for the Lord, ready to go wherever he wants to send them. That they do not walk humbly before him (cf. Mic 6:8), that they do not walk in love (cf. Eph 5:2).
THE SPACE OF THE CONFESSIONAL, WHERE THE TRUTH MAKES US FREE
Speaking of space, let us go to the confessional. The Catechism of the Catholic Church presents the confessional as the place where the truth makes us free for an encounter. “When he celebrates the sacrament of penance, the priest is fulfilling the ministry of the Good Shepherd who seeks the lost sheep, of the Good Samaritan who binds up wounds, of the Father who awaits the prodigal son and welcomes him on his return, and of the just and impartial Judge whose judgement is both just and merciful. The priest is the sign and the instrument of God’s merciful love for the sinner” (No. 1465). The Catechism also reminds us that “the confessor is not the master of God’s forgiveness but its servant. The minister of this sacrament should unite himself to the intention and charity of Christ” (No. 1466).
Signs and instruments of an encounter. That is what we are. An attractive invitation to an encounter. As signs, we must be welcoming, sending a message that attracts people’s attention. Signs need to be consistent and clear, but above all understandable. Some signs are only clear to specialists. Signs and instruments. Instruments have to be effective, readily available, precise and suitable for the job. We are instruments if people have a genuine encounter with the God of mercy. Our task is “to make that encounter possible”, face-to-face. What people do afterwards is their business. There is a prodigal son among the pigs and a father who goes out every afternoon to see if he is returning. There is a lost sheep and a shepherd who goes out to seek him. There is a wounded person left at the roadside and a good-hearted Samaritan. What is our ministry? It is to be signs and instruments enabling this encounter. Let us always remember that we are not the father, the shepherd or the Samaritan. Rather, inasmuch as we are sinners, we are on the side of the other three. Our ministry has to be a sign and instrument of that encounter. We are part of the mystery of the Holy Spirit, who creates the Church, builds unity, and constantly invites to encounter.
The other mark of a sign and instrument is that it is not self-referential. Put more simply, it is not an end in itself. Nobody sticks with the sign once they understand the reality. Nobody keeps looking at the screwdriver or the hammer, but at the well-hung picture. We are useless servants. Instruments and signs that help two people to join in an embrace, like the father and his son.
The third mark of a sign and instrument is its availability. An instrument has to be readily accessible; a sign must be visible. Being a sign and instrument is about being a mediator. Perhaps this is the real key to our own mission in this merciful encounter of God and man. We could even put it in negative terms. Saint Ignatius talked about “not getting in the way”. A good mediator makes things easy, rather than setting up obstacles. In my country, there was a great confessor, Father Cullen. He would sit in the confessional and do one of two things: he would repair worn soccer balls for the local kids, or he would thumb through a big Chinese dictionary. He used to say that when people saw him doing such completely useless things like fixing old soccer balls or trying to master Chinese, they would think: “I’m going to go up and talk to his priest, since he obviously doesn’t have much to do!” He was available for what was essential. He got rid of the obstacle of always looking busy and serious.
Everybody has known good confessors. We have to learn from our good confessors, the ones whom people seek out, who do not make them afraid but help them to speak frankly, as Jesus did with Nicodemus. If people come to confession it is because they are penitent; repentance is already present. They come to confession because they want to change. Or at least they want to want to change, if they think their situation is impossible. Ad impossibilia nemo tenetur, as the old maxim goes: no one is obliged to do the impossible.
We have to learn from good confessors, those who are gentle with sinners, who after a couple of words understand everything, as Jesus did with the woman suffering from a haemorrhage, and straightaway the power of forgiveness goes forth from them. The integrity of confession is not a mathematics problem. Sometimes people feel less shame in confessing a sin than in stating the number of times they committed it. We have to let ourselves be moved by people’s situation, which at times is a mixture of their own doing, human weakness, sin and insuperable conditionings. We have to be like Jesus, who was deeply moved by the sight of people and their problems, and kept healing them, even when they “didn’t ask properly”, like that leper, or seemed to beat around the bush, like the Samaritan woman. She was like a bird we have in South America: she squawked in one place but had her nest in another.
We have to learn from confessors who can enable penitents to feel amendment in taking a small step forwards, like Jesus, who gave a suitable penance and could appreciate the one leper who returned to thank him, on whom he bestowed yet more. Jesus had his mat taken away from the paralytic, and he made the blind man and the Syro-Phoenician woman have to ask. It didn’t matter to him if they paid no attention to him, like the paralytic at the pool of Bethzatha, or told others what he ordered them not to tell, with the result that he himself became the leper, since he could not go into the towns or his enemies found reasons to condemn him. He healed people, forgave their sins, eased their suffering, gave them rest and made them feel the consoling breath of the Spirit.
In Buenos Aires I knew a Capuchin Friar. He is a little younger than myself and a great confessor. There is always a line before his confessional, lots of people confessing all day long. He is really good at forgiving. He forgives, but every once in a while he has scruples about being so forgiving. Once in conversation he told me: “Sometimes I have scruples”. So I asked him: “What do you do when you have these scruples?” He replied: “I go before the tabernacle, I look at our Lord and I tell him, ‘Lord, forgive me, today I was very forgiving. But let’s be clear, it is all your fault, because you gave me bad example!” He added mercy to mercy.
Lastly, as far as confession is concerned, I have two bits of advice. First, never look like a bureaucrat or a judge, somebody who just sees “cases” to be dealt with. Mercy sets us free from being this kind of priest, who is so used to judging “cases” that he is no longer sensitive to persons, to faces. The rule of Jesus is to “judge as we would be judged”. This is the key to our judgement: that we treat others with dignity, that we don’t demean or mistreat them, that we help raise them up, and that we never forget that the Lord is using us, weak as we are, as his instruments. Not necessarily because our judgement is “the best”, but because it is sincere and can build a good relationship.
My other bit of advice is not to be curious in the confessional. Saint Therese tells us that when her novices would confide in her, she was very careful not to ask how things turned out. She did not pry into people’s souls (cf. History of a Soul, Ms C, to Mother Gonzaga, c. XII, 32r.). It is characteristic of mercy to cover sin with its cloak, so as not to wound people’s dignity. Like the two sons of Noah, who covered with a cloak the nakedness of their father in his drunkenness (cf. Gen 9:23).
THE SOCIAL DIMENSION OF THE WORKS OF MERCY
At the end of the Exercises, Saint Ignatius puts “contemplation to attain love”, which connects what is experienced in prayer to daily life. He makes us reflect on how love has to be put more into works than into words. Those works are the works of mercy which the Father “prepared beforehand to be our way of life” (Eph 2:10), those which the Spirit inspires in each for the common good (cf. 1 Cor 12:7). In thanking the Lord for all the gifts we have received from his bounty, we ask for the grace to bring to all mankind that mercy which has been our own salvation.
I propose that we meditate on one of the final paragraphs of the Gospels. There, the Lord himself makes that connection between what we have received and what we are called to give. We can read these conclusions in the key of “works of mercy” which bring about the time of the Church, the time in which the risen Jesus lives, guides, sends forth and appeals to our freedom, which finds in him its concrete daily realization.
Matthew tells us that the Lord sends his Apostles to make disciples of all nations, “teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded” (28:20). This “instructing the ignorant” is itself one of the works of mercy. It spreads like light to the other works: to those listed in Matthew 25, which deal more with the so-called “corporal works of mercy”, and to all the commandments and evangelical counsels, such as “forgiving”, “fraternally correcting”, consoling the sorrowing, and enduring persecution…
Mark’s Gospel ends with the image of the Lord who “collaborates” with the Apostles and “confirms the word by the signs that accompany it”. Those “signs” greatly resemble the works of mercy. Mark speaks, among other things, of healing the sick and casting out demons (cf. 16:17-18).
Luke continues his Gospel with the “Acts” – praxeis — of the Apostles, relating the history of how they acted and the works they did, led by the Spirit.
John’s Gospel ends by referring to the “many other things” (21:25) or “signs” (20:30) which Jesus performed. The Lord’s actions, his works, are not mere deeds but signs by which, in a completely personal way, he shows his love and his mercy for each person.
We can contemplate the Lord who sends us on this mission, by using the image of the merciful Jesus as revealed to Sister Faustina. In that image we can see mercy as a single ray of light that comes from deep within God, passes through the heart of Christ, and emerges in a diversity of colours, each representing a work of mercy.
The works of mercy are endless, but each bears the stamp of a particular face, a personal history. They are much more than the lists of the seven corporal and seven spiritual works of mercy. Those lists are like the raw material – the material of life itself – that, worked and shaped by the hands of mercy, turns into an individual artistic creation. Each work multiplies like the bread in the baskets; each gives abundant growth like the mustard seed. For mercy is fruitful and inclusive.
We usually think of the works of mercy individually and in relation to a specific initiative: hospitals for the sick, soup kitchens for the hungry, shelters for the homeless, schools for those to be educated, the confessional and spiritual direction for those needing counsel and forgiveness… But if we look at the works of mercy as a whole, we see that the object of mercy is human life itself and everything it embraces. Life itself, as “flesh”, hungers and thirsts; it needs to be clothed, given shelter and visited, to say nothing of receiving a proper burial, something none of us, however rich, can do for ourselves. Even the wealthiest person, in death, becomes a pauper; there are no moving vans in a funeral cortege. Life itself, as “spirit”, needs to be educated, corrected, encouraged and consoled. We need others to counsel us, to forgive us, to put up with us and to pray for us. The family is where these works of mercy are practised in so normal and unpretentious a way that we don’t even realize it. Yet once a family with small children loses its mother, everything begins to fall apart. The cruellest and most relentless form of poverty is that of street children, without parents and prey to the vultures.
We have asked for the grace to be signs and instruments. Now we have to “act”, not only with gestures, but by projects and structures, by creating a culture of mercy. Once we begin, we sense immediately that the Spirit energizes and sustains these works. He does this by using the signs and instruments he wants, even if at times they do not appear to be the most suitable ones. It could even be said that, in order to carry out the works of mercy, the Spirit tends to choose the poorest, humblest and most insignificant instruments, those who themselves most need that first ray of divine mercy. They are the ones who can best be shaped and readied to serve most effectively and well. The joy of realizing that we are “useless servants” whom the Lord blesses with the fruitfulness of his grace, seats at his table and serves us the Eucharist, is a confirmation that we are engaged in his works of mercy.
Our faithful people are happy to congregate around works of mercy. In penitential and festive celebrations, and in educational and charitable activities, our people willingly come together and let themselves be shepherded in ways that are not always recognized or appreciated, whereas so many of our more abstract and academic pastoral plans fail to work. The massive presence of our faithful people in our shrines and on our pilgrimages is an anonymous presence, but anonymous simply because it is made up of so many faces and so great a desire simply to be gazed upon with mercy by Jesus and Mary. The same can be said about the countless ways in which our people take part in countless initiatives of solidarity; this too needs to be recognized, appreciated and promoted on our part.
As priests, we ask two graces of the Good Shepherd, that of letting ourselves be guided by the sensus fidei of our faithful people, and to be guided by their “sense of the poor”. Both these “senses” have to do with the sensus Christi, with our people’s love for, and faith in, Jesus.
Let us conclude by reciting the Anima Christi, that beautiful prayer which implores mercy from the Lord who came among us in the flesh and graciously feeds us with his body and blood. We ask him to show mercy to us and to his people. We ask his soul to “sanctify us”, his body to “save us”, his blood to “inebriate us” and to remove from us all other thirsts that are not of him. We ask the water flowing from his side “to wash us”, his passion “to strengthen us”. Comfort your people, crucified Lord! May your wounds “shelter us”… Grant that your people, Lord, may never be parted from you. Let nothing and no one separate us from your mercy, which defends us from the snares of the wicked enemy. Thus, we will sing your mercies, Lord, with all your saints when you bid us come to you.
(from Vatican Radio)…