Homily of Joseph Cardinal
Ratzinger, Dean of the College of Cardinals, Mass for
the Election of the Supreme Pontiff, St. Peter's
Basilica, 18 April 2005
At this moment of great responsibility, let us listen
with special attention to what the Lord says to us in
his own words. I would like to examine just a few
passages from the three readings that concern us
directly at this time.
The first one offers us a prophetic
portrait of the person of the Messiah - a portrait that
receives its full meaning from the moment when Jesus
reads the text in the synagogue at Nazareth and says,
"Today this Scripture passage is fulfilled in your
hearing" (Lk 4: 21).
At the core of the prophetic text we
find a word which seems contradictory, at least at first
sight. The Messiah, speaking of himself, says that he
was sent "to announce a year of favour from the Lord and
a day of vindication by our God" (Is 61: 2). We hear
with joy the news of a year of favour: divine mercy puts
a limit on evil, as the Holy Father told us. Jesus
Christ is divine mercy in person: encountering Christ
means encountering God's mercy.
Christ's mandate has become our mandate
through the priestly anointing. We are called to
proclaim, not only with our words but also with our
lives and with the valuable signs of the sacraments,
"the year of favour from the Lord".
But what does the prophet Isaiah mean
when he announces "the day of vindication by our God"?
At Nazareth, Jesus omitted these words in his reading of
the prophet's text; he concluded by announcing the year
of favour. Might this have been the reason for the
outburst of scandal after his preaching? We do not know.
In any case, the Lord offered a genuine
commentary on these words by being put to death on the
cross. St Peter says: "In his own body he brought your
sins to the cross" (I Pt 2: 24). And St Paul writes in
his Letter to the Galatians: "Christ has delivered us
from the power of the law's curse by himself becoming a
curse for us, as it is written, "Accursed is anyone who
is hanged on a tree'. This happened so that through
Christ Jesus the blessing bestowed on Abraham might
descend on the Gentiles in Christ Jesus, thereby making
it possible for us to receive the promised Spirit
through faith" (Gal 3: 13f.).
Christ's mercy is not a grace that comes
cheap, nor does it imply the trivialization of evil.
Christ carries the full weight of evil and all its
destructive force in his body and in his soul. He burns
and transforms evil in suffering, in the fire of his
suffering love. The day of vindication and the year of
favour converge in the Paschal Mystery, in the dead and
Risen Christ. This is the vengeance of God: he himself
suffers for us, in the person of his Son. The more
deeply stirred we are by the Lord's mercy, the greater
the solidarity we feel with his suffering - and we
become willing to complete in our own flesh "what is
lacking in the afflictions of Christ" (Col 1: 24).
Let us move on to the second reading,
the letter to the Ephesians. Here we see essentially
three aspects: first of all, the ministries and charisms
in the Church as gifts of the Lord who rose and ascended
into heaven; then, the maturing of faith and the
knowledge of the Son of God as the condition and content
of unity in the Body of Christ; and lastly, our common
participation in the growth of the Body of Christ, that
is, the transformation of the world into communion with
the Lord.
Let us dwell on only two points. The
first is the journey towards "the maturity of Christ",
as the Italian text says, simplifying it slightly. More
precisely, in accordance with the Greek text, we should
speak of the "measure of the fullness of Christ" that we
are called to attain if we are to be true adults in the
faith. We must not remain children in faith, in the
condition of minors. And what does it mean to be
children in faith? St Paul answers: it means being
"tossed here and there, carried about by every wind of
doctrine" (Eph 4: 14). This description is very timely!
How many winds of doctrine have we known
in recent decades, how many ideological currents, how
many ways of thinking. The small boat of the thought of
many Christians has often been tossed about by these
waves - flung from one extreme to another: from Marxism
to liberalism, even to libertinism; from collectivism to
radical individualism; from atheism to a vague religious
mysticism; from agnosticism to syncretism and so forth.
Every day new sects spring up, and what St Paul says
about human deception and the trickery that strives to
entice people into error (cf. Eph 4: 14) comes true.
Today, having a clear faith based on the
Creed of the Church is often labeled as fundamentalism.
Whereas relativism, that is, letting oneself be "tossed
here and there, carried about by every wind of
doctrine", seems the only attitude that can cope with
modern times. We are building a dictatorship of
relativism that does not recognize anything as
definitive and whose ultimate goal consists solely of
one's own ego and desires.
We, however, have a different goal: the
Son of God, the true man. He is the measure of true
humanism. An "adult" faith is not a faith that follows
the trends of fashion and the latest novelty; a mature
adult faith is deeply rooted in friendship with Christ.
It is this friendship that opens us up to all that is
good and gives us a criterion by which to distinguish
the true from the false, and deceipt from truth.
We must develop this adult faith; we
must guide the flock of Christ to this faith. And it is
this faith - only faith - that creates unity and is
fulfilled in love.
On this theme, St Paul offers us as a
fundamental formula for Christian existence some
beautiful words, in contrast to the continual
vicissitudes of those who, like children, are tossed
about by the waves: make truth in love. Truth and love
coincide in Christ. To the extent that we draw close to
Christ, in our own lives too, truth and love are
blended. Love without truth would be blind; truth
without love would be like "a clanging cymbal" (I Cor
13: 1).
Let us now look at the Gospel, from
whose riches I would like to draw only two small
observations. The Lord addresses these wonderful words
to us: "I no longer speak of you as slaves.... Instead,
I call you friends" (Jn 15: 15). We so often feel, and
it is true, that we are only useless servants (cf. Lk
17: 10).
Yet, in spite of this, the Lord calls us
friends, he makes us his friends, he gives us his
friendship. The Lord gives friendship a dual definition.
There are no secrets between friends: Christ tells us
all that he hears from the Father; he gives us his full
trust and with trust, also knowledge. He reveals his
face and his heart to us. He shows us the tenderness he
feels for us, his passionate love that goes even as far
as the folly of the Cross. He entrusts himself to us, he
gives us the power to speak in his name: "this is my
body...", "I forgive you...". He entrusts his Body, the
Church, to us.
To our weak minds, to our weak hands, he
entrusts his truth - the mystery of God the Father, the
Son and the Holy Spirit; the mystery of God who "so
loved the world that he gave his only Son" (Jn 3: 16).
He made us his friends - and how do we respond?
The second element Jesus uses to define
friendship is the communion of wills. For the Romans
"Idem velle - idem nolle" [same desires, same
dislikes] was also the definition of friendship. "You
are my friends if you do what I command you" (Jn 15:
14). Friendship with Christ coincides with the third
request of the Our Father: "Thy will be done on
earth as it is in heaven". At his hour in the Garden of
Gethsemane, Jesus transformed our rebellious human will
into a will conformed and united with the divine will.
He suffered the whole drama of our autonomy - and
precisely by placing our will in God's hands, he gives
us true freedom: "Not as I will, but as you will" (Mt
26: 39).
Our redemption is brought about in this
communion of wills: being friends of Jesus, to become
friends of God. The more we love Jesus, the more we know
him, the more our true freedom develops and our joy in
being redeemed flourishes. Thank you, Jesus, for your
friendship!
The other element of the Gospel to which
I wanted to refer is Jesus' teaching on bearing fruit:
"It was I who chose you to go forth and bear fruit. Your
fruit must endure" (Jn 15: 16).
It is here that appears the dynamism of
the life of a Christian, an apostle: I chose you to
go forth. We must be enlivened by a holy
restlessness: a restlessness to bring to everyone the
gift of faith, of friendship with Christ. Truly, the
love and friendship of God was given to us so that it
might also be shared with others. We have received the
faith to give it to others - we are priests in order to
serve others. And we must bear fruit that will endure.
All people desire to leave a lasting
mark. But what endures? Money does not. Even buildings
do not, nor books. After a certain time, longer or
shorter, all these things disappear. The only thing that
lasts for ever is the human soul, the human person
created by God for eternity.
The fruit that endures is therefore all
that we have sown in human souls: love, knowledge, a
gesture capable of touching hearts, words that open the
soul to joy in the Lord. So let us go and pray to the
Lord to help us bear fruit that endures. Only in this
way will the earth be changed from a valley of tears to
a garden of God.
To conclude, let us return once again to
the Letter to the Ephesians. The Letter says, with words
from Psalm 68, that Christ, ascending into heaven, "gave
gifts to men" (Eph 4: 8). The victor offers gifts. And
these gifts are apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors
and teachers. Our ministry is a gift of Christ to
humankind, to build up his body - the new world. We live
out our ministry in this way, as a gift of Christ to
humanity!
At this time, however, let us above all
pray insistently to the Lord that after his great gift
of Pope John Paul II, he will once again give us a
Pastor according to his own heart, a Pastor who will
guide us to knowledge of Christ, to his love and to true
joy.
Amen.
(Vatican translation)