Benedict XVI's Address to Artists

"You Are the Custodians of Beauty"

- Here is an English translation of the address Benedict XVI gave Saturday in the Sistine Chapel during an audience with some 250 artists of international renown.

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Dear Cardinals,
Brother Bishops and Priests,
Distinguished Artists,
Ladies and Gentlemen,

With great joy I welcome you to this solemn place, so rich in art and in history. I cordially greet each and every one of you and I thank you for accepting my invitation. At this gathering I wish to express and renew the Church's friendship with the world of art, a friendship that has been strengthened over time; indeed Christianity from its earliest days has recognized the value of the arts and has made wise use of their varied language to express her unvarying message of salvation. This friendship must be continually promoted and supported so that it may be authentic and fruitful, adapted to different historical periods and attentive to social and cultural variations. Indeed, this is the reason for our meeting here today. I am deeply grateful to Archbishop Gianfranco Ravasi, President of the Pontifical Council for Culture and of the Pontifical Commission for the Cultural Patrimony of the Church, and likewise to his officials, for promoting and organizing this meeting, and I thank him for the words he has just addressed to me. I greet the Cardinals, the Bishops, the priests and the various distinguished personalities present. I also thank the Sistine Chapel Choir for their contribution to this gathering. Today's event is focused on you, dear and illustrious artists, from different countries, cultures and religions, some of you perhaps remote from the practice of religion, but interested nevertheless in maintaining communication with the Catholic Church, in not reducing the horizons of existence to mere material realities, to a reductive and trivializing vision. You represent the varied world of the arts and so, through you, I would like to convey to all artists my invitation to friendship, dialogue and cooperation.

Some significant anniversaries occur around this time. It is ten years since the Letter to Artists by my venerable Predecessor, the Servant of God Pope John Paul II. For the first time, on the eve of the Great Jubilee of the Year 2000, the Pope, who was an artist himself, wrote a Letter to artists, combining the solemnity of a pontifical document with the friendly tone of a conversation among all who, as we read in the initial salutation, "are passionately dedicated to the search for new 'epiphanies' of beauty". Twenty-five years ago the same Pope proclaimed Blessed Fra Angelico the patron of artists, presenting him as a model of perfect harmony between faith and art. I also recall how on 7 May 1964, forty-five years ago, in this very place, an historic event took place, at the express wish of Pope Paul VI, to confirm the friendship between the Church and the arts. The words that he spoke on that occasion resound once more today under the vault of the Sistine Chapel and touch our hearts and our minds. "We need you," he said. "We need your collaboration in order to carry out our ministry, which consists, as you know, in preaching and rendering accessible and comprehensible to the minds and hearts of our people the things of the spirit, the invisible, the ineffable, the things of God himself. And in this activity ... you are masters. It is your task, your mission, and your art consists in grasping treasures from the heavenly realm of the spirit and clothing them in words, colours, forms -- making them accessible." So great was Paul VI's esteem for artists that he was moved to use daring expressions. "And if we were deprived of your assistance," he added, "our ministry would become faltering and uncertain, and a special effort would be needed, one might say, to make it artistic, even prophetic. In order to scale the heights of lyrical expression of intuitive beauty, priesthood would have to coincide with art." On that occasion Paul VI made a commitment to "re-establish the friendship between the Church and artists", and he invited artists to make a similar, shared commitment, analyzing seriously and objectively the factors that disturbed this relationship, and assuming individual responsibility, courageously and passionately, for a newer and deeper journey in mutual acquaintance and dialogue in order to arrive at an authentic "renaissance" of art in the context of a new humanism.

That historic encounter, as I mentioned, took place here in this sanctuary of faith and human creativity. So it is not by chance that we come together in this place, esteemed for its architecture and its symbolism, and above all for the frescoes that make it unique, from the masterpieces of Perugino and Botticelli, Ghirlandaio and Cosimo Rosselli, Luca Signorelli and others, to the Genesis scenes and the Last Judgement of Michelangelo Buonarroti, who has given us here one of the most extraordinary creations in the entire history of art. The universal language of music has often been heard here, thanks to the genius of great musicians who have placed their art at the service of the liturgy, assisting the spirit in its ascent towards God. At the same time, the Sistine Chapel is remarkably vibrant with history, since it is the solemn and austere setting of events that mark the history of the Church and of mankind. Here as you know, the College of Cardinals elects the Pope; here it was that I myself, with trepidation but also with absolute trust in the Lord, experienced the privileged moment of my election as Successor of the Apostle Peter.

Dear friends, let us allow these frescoes to speak to us today, drawing us towards the ultimate goal of human history. The Last Judgement, which you see behind me, reminds us that human history is movement and ascent, a continuing tension towards fullness, towards human happiness, towards a horizon that always transcends the present moment even as the two coincide. Yet the dramatic scene portrayed in this fresco also places before our eyes the risk of man's definitive fall, a risk that threatens to engulf him whenever he allows himself to be led astray by the forces of evil. So the fresco issues a strong prophetic cry against evil, against every form of injustice. For believers, though, the Risen Christ is the Way, the Truth and the Life. For his faithful followers, he is the Door through which we are brought to that "face-to-face" vision of God from which limitless, full and definitive happiness flows. Thus Michelangelo presents to our gaze the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End of history, and he invites us to walk the path of life with joy, courage and hope. The dramatic beauty of Michelangelo's painting, its colours and forms, becomes a proclamation of hope, an invitation to raise our gaze to the ultimate horizon. The profound bond between beauty and hope was the essential content of the evocative Message that Paul VI addressed to artists at the conclusion of the Second Vatican Ecumenical Council on 8 December 1965: "To all of you," he proclaimed solemnly, "the Church of the Council declares through our lips: if you are friends of true art, you are our friends!" And he added: "This world in which we live needs beauty in order not to sink into despair. Beauty, like truth, brings joy to the human heart, and is that precious fruit which resists the erosion of time, which unites generations and enables them to be one in admiration. And all this through the work of your hands . . . Remember that you are the custodians of beauty in the world."

Unfortunately, the present time is marked, not only by negative elements in the social and economic sphere, but also by a weakening of hope, by a certain lack of confidence in human relationships, which gives rise to increasing signs of resignation, aggression and despair. The world in which we live runs the risk of being altered beyond recognition because of unwise human actions which, instead of cultivating its beauty, unscrupulously exploit its resources for the advantage of a few and not infrequently disfigure the marvels of nature. What is capable of restoring enthusiasm and confidence, what can encourage the human spirit to rediscover its path, to raise its eyes to the horizon, to dream of a life worthy of its vocation -- if not beauty? Dear friends, as artists you know well that the experience of beauty, beauty that is authentic, not merely transient or artificial, is by no means a supplementary or secondary factor in our search for meaning and happiness; the experience of beauty does not remove us from reality, on the contrary, it leads to a direct encounter with the daily reality of our lives, liberating it from darkness, transfiguring it, making it radiant and beautiful.

Indeed, an essential function of genuine beauty, as emphasized by Plato, is that it gives man a healthy "shock", it draws him out of himself, wrenches him away from resignation and from being content with the humdrum -- it even makes him suffer, piercing him like a dart, but in so doing it "reawakens" him, opening afresh the eyes of his heart and mind, giving him wings, carrying him aloft. Dostoevsky's words that I am about to quote are bold and paradoxical, but they invite reflection. He says this: "Man can live without science, he can live without bread, but without beauty he could no longer live, because there would no longer be anything to do to the world. The whole secret is here, the whole of history is here." The painter Georges Braque echoes this sentiment: "Art is meant to disturb, science reassures." Beauty pulls us up short, but in so doing it reminds us of our final destiny, it sets us back on our path, fills us with new hope, gives us the courage to live to the full the unique gift of life. The quest for beauty that I am describing here is clearly not about escaping into the irrational or into mere aestheticism.

Too often, though, the beauty that is thrust upon us is illusory and deceitful, superficial and blinding, leaving the onlooker dazed; instead of bringing him out of himself and opening him up to horizons of true freedom as it draws him aloft, it imprisons him within himself and further enslaves him, depriving him of hope and joy. It is a seductive but hypocritical beauty that rekindles desire, the will to power, to possess, and to dominate others, it is a beauty which soon turns into its opposite, taking on the guise of indecency, transgression or gratuitous provocation. Authentic beauty, however, unlocks the yearning of the human heart, the profound desire to know, to love, to go towards the Other, to reach for the Beyond. If we acknowledge that beauty touches us intimately, that it wounds us, that it opens our eyes, then we rediscover the joy of seeing, of being able to grasp the profound meaning of our existence, the Mystery of which we are part; from this Mystery we can draw fullness, happiness, the passion to engage with it every day. In this regard, Pope John Paul II, in his Letter to Artists, quotes the following verse from a Polish poet, Cyprian Norwid: "Beauty is to enthuse us for work, and work is to raise us up" (no. 3). And later he adds: "In so far as it seeks the beautiful, fruit of an imagination which rises above the everyday, art is by its nature a kind of appeal to the mystery. Even when they explore the darkest depths of the soul or the most unsettling aspects of evil, the artist gives voice in a way to the universal desire for redemption" (no. 10). And in conclusion he states: "Beauty is a key to the mystery and a call to transcendence" (no. 16).

These ideas impel us to take a further step in our reflection. Beauty, whether that of the natural universe or that expressed in art, precisely because it opens up and broadens the horizons of human awareness, pointing us beyond ourselves, bringing us face to face with the abyss of Infinity, can become a path towards the transcendent, towards the ultimate Mystery, towards God. Art, in all its forms, at the point where it encounters the great questions of our existence, the fundamental themes that give life its meaning, can take on a religious quality, thereby turning into a path of profound inner reflection and spirituality. This close proximity, this harmony between the journey of faith and the artist's path is attested by countless artworks that are based upon the personalities, the stories, the symbols of that immense deposit of "figures" -- in the broad sense -- namely the Bible, the Sacred Scriptures. The great biblical narratives, themes, images and parables have inspired innumerable masterpieces in every sector of the arts, just as they have spoken to the hearts of believers in every generation through the works of craftsmanship and folk art, that are no less eloquent and evocative.

In this regard, one may speak of a via pulchritudinis, a path of beauty which is at the same time an artistic and aesthetic journey, a journey of faith, of theological enquiry. The theologian Hans Urs von Balthasar begins his great work entitled The Glory of the Lord -- a Theological Aesthetics with these telling observations: "Beauty is the word with which we shall begin. Beauty is the last word that the thinking intellect dares to speak, because it simply forms a halo, an untouchable crown around the double constellation of the true and the good and their inseparable relation to one another." He then adds: "Beauty is the disinterested one, without which the ancient world refused to understand itself, a word which both imperceptibly and yet unmistakably has bid farewell to our new world, a world of interests, leaving it to its own avarice and sadness. It is no longer loved or fostered even by religion." And he concludes: "We can be sure that whoever sneers at her name as if she were the ornament of a bourgeois past -- whether he admits it or not -- can no longer pray and soon will no longer be able to love." The way of beauty leads us, then, to grasp the Whole in the fragment, the Infinite in the finite, God in the history of humanity. Simone Weil wrote in this regard: "In all that awakens within us the pure and authentic sentiment of beauty, there, truly, is the presence of God. There is a kind of incarnation of God in the world, of which beauty is the sign. Beauty is the experimental proof that incarnation is possible. For this reason all art of the first order is, by its nature, religious." Hermann Hesse makes the point even more graphically: "Art means: revealing God in everything that exists." Echoing the words of Pope Paul VI, the Servant of God Pope John Paul II restated the Church's desire to renew dialogue and cooperation with artists: "In order to communicate the message entrusted to her by Christ, the Church needs art" (no. 12); but he immediately went on to ask: "Does art need the Church?" -- thereby inviting artists to rediscover a source of fresh and well-founded inspiration in religious experience, in Christian revelation and in the "great codex" that is the Bible.

Dear artists, as I draw to a conclusion, I too would like to make a cordial, friendly and impassioned appeal to you, as did my Predecessor. You are the custodians of beauty: thanks to your talent, you have the opportunity to speak to the heart of humanity, to touch individual and collective sensibilities, to call forth dreams and hopes, to broaden the horizons of knowledge and of human engagement. Be grateful, then, for the gifts you have received and be fully conscious of your great responsibility to communicate beauty, to communicate in and through beauty! Through your art, you yourselves are to be heralds and witnesses of hope for humanity! And do not be afraid to approach the first and last source of beauty, to enter into dialogue with believers, with those who, like yourselves, consider that they are pilgrims in this world and in history towards infinite Beauty! Faith takes nothing away from your genius or your art: on the contrary, it exalts them and nourishes them, it encourages them to cross the threshold and to contemplate with fascination and emotion the ultimate and definitive goal, the sun that does not set, the sun that illumines this present moment and makes it beautiful.

Saint Augustine, who fell in love with beauty and sang its praises, wrote these words as he reflected on man's ultimate destiny, commenting almost ante litteram on the Judgement scene before your eyes today: "Therefore we are to see a certain vision, my brethren, that no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man conceived: a vision surpassing all earthly beauty, whether it be that of gold and silver, woods and fields, sea and sky, sun and moon, or stars and angels. The reason is this: it is the source of all other beauty" (In 1 Ioannis, 4:5). My wish for all of you, dear artists, is that you may carry this vision in your eyes, in your hands, and in your heart, that it may bring you joy and continue to inspire your fine works. From my heart I bless you and, like Paul VI, I greet you with a single word: arrivederci!

Witness for the Month of November

Testimony for October 2009
John Roderick
November 21st 2009

The month of October at the house of formation can best be described as a time of transition into the daily and weekly rhythm of the University year. September is a month primarily dedicated to getting one’s feet in regards to seminary life, whereas October is where the rubber hits the pavement. There is always a little nostalgia for the fall colours and smells, the concrete aspects of a Canadian fall in the maritime provinces, St. FX football and soccer, and the beginning of the NHL and NBA season. However, I am much more accustomed to being away from home, and wait until the middle of November to enjoy the changing of the seasons.

I was greatly helped during the month with the meditative reading of the Gospel of Luke during the daily hour of silent prayer. Immediately, I think of the parable of the virgins with their oil lamps. This has always been an important passage for those thinking of either the priesthood or religious life, but it took on new meaning for me during the month. I became particularly aware of the need for patient vigilance in my life, in front of the vocational path I have chosen, being in a new country, language and culture, and the desire of affirmation for the decision that I have freely made. The parable reveals the necessity of being patient, of being ready for the Lord to concretely come to us within the circumstances we are given, the country, culture and language. I have been brought to a new disposition in front of the given circumstances, one of asking and seeking out the Lord’s presence, looking to see His love for my life in the other seminarians and priests that have been given to me to guide to the fullness of the truth of my life.

I wonder a lot, at the life I have been given, the history that I have, the people I have met, the places I have been, the ups and downs that I have lived. What do all of these experiences mean, in light if what I am being asked to live as a seminarian seeking the full truth of the attraction to the Fraternity of St. Charles. Nothing is left out, and everything is taken up within one’s vocation. God asks us to use our reason and experience to understand the mysterious plan He has for our lives, as well, as to be patient as this plan unfolds concretely before us. The patience required when seeking the will of another is a real grace. I have learned, and often have to relearn this fact, that I don’t necessarily determine the times and places I choose to be struck by God’s presence. I cannot manipulate Him, and I cannot manipulate my heart. I can try to deny what has happened to my life, but it is not reasonable to do so.

In front of times of confusion and uncertainty, I am often drawn back to reflect on the story of the life I wrote as a project for all the seminarians entering their second year. God has promised so much, fulfilment and peace, and I am here in Rome because it is the most reasonable place to be, to believe that God will bring to fulfilment the mission He has begun in my life. I am staking my whole life, my whole person and story in this promise by God the Father, of a life full of His love and presence within the communion and friendship of the Fraternity. I can live these days, which are at times very difficult because of this promise, and how generous and loving He has been in my life. My relationship with Him transcends particular circumstances, that meaning my fulfilment does not depend on being at a particular place, or with a particular person, but the only answer to the mystery of my person and heart is the person of Jesus and how he chooses to make himself present to me. God is love, and love in part takes the form of eros, a passionate search and seeking out of the beloved, I trust that God does love me, and is seeking out his beloved, wanting to patiently seek the fullness of my heart for the plan he has for my life. God asks for the totality of our hearts, to follow and give of our selves completely to the plan, to the attractive presence he concretely reveals in our lives.

What follows is the description of some facts from the month of October, I do not intend to be overly exhaustive in the explanation and judgment, but my hope is that they are able to convey a glimpse of what I am living, and what God has asked me to fully embrace as one seeking His will for my life.

1. The beginning of the academic year at the Pontifical Lateran University, first day of classes were on Monday October 12th. This year, I began the second year of a two year program equivalent to a bachelor of arts in philosophy. This semester is much more difficult than those of the first year, since I am taking a full course, meaning that I have accepted no credits from my pervious philosophy courses at St. FX. The difference is very clear, since during the first year I had at least two less classes each semester. The first semester of the second year is supposed to be the most demanding. My classes are as follows: Political Ethics with M. Konrad from the Fraternity of St. Charles, 2) Natural Theology with Charles Morerod, who is a Dominican priest who serves on many important ecumenical dialogue committees for the Vatican, 3) Philosophy of Being with Mario Pangallo, a heavy taste of Aristotle’s Metaphysics and Thomas Aquinas re-reading of the tradition, 4) Modern Philosophy with Leonardo Messinese, who is a disciple of Gustavo Bontadini who proposes a new speculative reading of Modern Philosophy along with the interpretation of Martin Heidegger, 5) Nietzsche and nihilism with Antonio Cecchini, which is a seminar reading class, 6) Relativism and the thinking of Immanuel Kant, with Marcello Pera, which proposes how a reading of Kant’s critique of the scepticism of David Hume, in fact lays the groundwork for an even more pervasive form of relativism.

The school year has been progressing very well, much different from the first year of studies. It is nice to be more united and committed together as friends (boys in second year), those seminarians from the Fraternity. The difference is like black and white from a year ago, where often the guys would stay at the house and I would be the only one from that Fraternity in the first year classes. It is nice to be together, and makes getting up at six am to attend lectures much more easy. There is a greater seriousness, and a much more critical disposition in front of the material we are learning. We are learning to be able to judge and appropriate the various schools of thought. We often discuss the material together in the car on the way home, and there is much greater openness to dialoguing, and asking questions.

2. The first of three yearly meetings with don Massimo occurred Friday October 9th. Don Massimo decided that the best way to get to know the new seminarians and commit entirely to the formation of these men, is to have three annual meetings with each seminarian. I remember very well the meeting we had together, and the freedom I had to share what I lived during the first year of seminarian formation. I was very happy to tell him of the facts which have made it possible for me to come to Rome, the people I have been privileged to meet, and the newness that they have brought into my life. These are concrete facts, facts speak, being here in seminary is not the fruit of an idea detached from reality, the concreteness of daily life. But the complete opposite, I am in Rome because the idea was given birth to from certain concrete friendships, facts that I would be silly not to recognize, and the love and mercy that I have experienced within my family. I shared the importance of writing the story of my life, and how it helps me to re-centre my life when I have difficulties. How God has always been very faithful to me, and provided me with many wonderful blessings, friendships, and experiences, and how I am in Rome seeking the fulfilment of everything that I have been given. I shared the importance of the summer vacation with the priests of the fraternity, and my new responsibilities at the house. How through these experiences, I am hoping to deepen my understanding of the mission God has for my life.

3. Don Massimo’s emphasis on mission in light of Philippians 2: 6-11. What does it mean to understand mission in light of Christ’s obedient decision to embrace the Father’s will and become human, take on the human condition, embrace the flesh of fallen humanity. As missionary priests, and for myself being asked to embrace the otherness of my Italian brothers, and their country, language and culture, I must view the circumstances I am being asked to live as the beginning of my mission, to make space for the embrace of what is other, to be conformed to something that precedes me. All of these factors, being the path to the fulfilment of my participation in Christ’s redemptive embrace of the flesh of mankind. We are called to concretely make space for what is other, and embrace this otherness. This is not supposed to be an abstract idea, but the letting of oneself be impacted and affected by the otherness of the people given in one’s life. We are not supposed to be the sole decision makers of our destiny, and the people we have to live with, we are not like lego’s and decide solely by ourselves who we have to live, work, and worship with. We must ask for the gift to make space to welcome who is other, and accept the fact that if they have been given to me, there is probably a great deal I can learn from them. This is very humbling, and not very easy. However, it starts within our families, within the friendships that we already have, and slowly we learn to enter into this type of way of life. We better get used to it, since we will be spending eternity with one another, why not start learning to get a hang of it today.

4. Reading Jean Daniélou’s diary during his seminary formation has been a great help to understand what I am living, and what I am striving for. He was a very humble man considering the genius and capacity he had. His writings have been a testimony for me, a witness for the love of the Church and of the Scriptures, and the common life of his Jesuit formation. I don’t remember many facts immediately, but the witness his writings revealed were of a man deeply in love with the Church, and a great awareness of his own limitations and temptations. I have taken a real liking to his writings, and have read at least half a dozen of his books in the past couple of months. His reading of modern liberalism in France, and of many of the currents within the twentieth century thinking have helped me a lot in my comprehension of what the dominant beliefs the culture presents.

5. Preparation for the article on Music, Silence and Technology with Jonah Lynch. In late September Jonah asked me to help with the research and writing of an article for Communio. This has been a lovely experience since it has challenged me to better look at the way I listen to music, and especially to other people. What type of music do I listen to, when do I listen to music, and to seek the purpose of why I listen to music. What is the place of silence in music, what is a silent disposition in front of listening to music, how do we educate ourselves and others to be silent within our culture today, is this type of education even possible. What has the advent and boom of technology done to music, has this been good or are there limitations, the possibility to control and manipulate music, to pause music, to rewind and fast forward. What do we look for when we listen to music, do we look to be entertained, or to be distracted, or to forget what we are being asked to live. These are a lot of fundamental questions that require a lot of reflection on what I live. It is very easy to open up a can of worms too big. It has been a challenge to decide what to write, and what to and what not to say. There is a very interesting book by Josef Pieper on this theme, “Only the Lover sings”, which proposes a return to the playfulness of music, the playing of music as a pathway to recuperate the grandeur of entering into reflective contemplation of the drama of human experience. We have had many evenings of listening to music, and trying to understand this experience, as well, we have both began playing a bit more piano, and the fleshly character of having to be patient and practice to enter into something beautiful.

6. A meeting with artist Camilian Demetrescu, on the theme of the rebirth of the symbol. This was a very interesting meeting with a painter and friend of don Massimo. He showed many of his pieces, and explained a lot of the rich symbolism. The symbol is very important for a sacramental reading of creation and of the world around us. How do we understand the place and presence of God within the world today. The artist is reacting a little bit to Marxist ideology, which is a form of atheism which places it faith in economic progress and liberating the poor from the class based system, and seeks to eliminate the presence of God in the world. The presence of God in the world, in the concreteness of daily life is sucked out and placed into a vacuum. His paintings are pedagogical, hoping to educate or renew the meaning of symbols, and their intrinsic meaning. A series of his paintings were selected to be on display in the Vatican, where the Pope meets with guests.

7. Canadian Thanksgiving weekend at Parco Leonardo for Burger King and a movie. This was a little bit of surprise but the guys in second year of seminary decided to have a night out at the movies theatre. We left for the nearby theatre, and decided to go large and eat at Burger King for supper before preceding to the theatre to buy our tickets. I was not particularly thrilled to have a grilled chicken sandwich for Thanksgiving dinner, however it was great to be together and make a night out. Before the movie we had time to bowl a string at a big ball bowling alley. Everyone was out to de-throne me, since last year I took the boys to school, lighting up the alley’s like my father during his university years. I was a little nervous that I would not perform up to par, but after being all square for the first six strings, I stepped up and took a commanding lead, and rode into the sunset with the victory. There was still time remaining and we decided to play a couple of cards of bingo, Umberto took the lead since he was the most familiar with the bingo scene. We had fun, and thank goodness we only played for close to twenty minutes. We watched a Sicilian film which was extremely difficult to follow, with the language and with the setting of the movie being told through three generations and the difficulties with communism in Italy. I left a little dissatisfied because I did not understand much of the film, and I was very tired. We arrived home close to one in the morning with classes the next day, however, I was pleased that we spent the time together.

8. Meeting with don Massimo on the meaning of the priesthood, and the year’s lessons dedicated to his new book on the priesthood for the year dedicated to the renewal of the priesthood. Don Massimo highlighted the importance of the fact that a priest is and remains a sinner throughout his life and ministry. Jesus changed the meaning of the priesthood, from that of the Hebrew people, where the priest was isolated and able to enter the Holy of Holies to offer sacrifices for the sins of the people, a type of priesthood defined primarily by his relationship to the sacred and the temple. Christ inaugurates a newness, the Church first began its prayers in the synagogue and then moved to people’s homes, and later into the first Churches. The place of prayer and worship is no longer strictly linked to the temple, but to the world. The temple was considered the place of purity and the world of impurity. With Christianity, the temple and the world are the place of purity. The priest, in all of his humanity and sinfulness, is introduced into the priesthood of Jesus, and is asked to partake in it with all of himself, with all his limitations and weaknesses. It is through this manifestation of God’s love and power through the fragile character of the priest, that characterizes the grandeur of the new priesthood. The priest is called to sanctify the world, to be sent towards people and the world, in order to bring them and these places into Christ’s relationship with the Father. The priest is a bridge between heaven and earth, with the power given to him by God himself through the Church, in order to serve God’s people, to be an instrument of God’s love and presence in the world. As Christ descended from heaven and took the form of flesh, the priest in the same way is sent, into the depths of peoples and families lives, to make Christ present and to bring these relationships and the world into the loving communion between the Father and the Son. Priests are normal people, with an incredible mission, a mission that we don’t determine for ourselves, but one that is determined prior to us, and one that we must conform to, a priesthood that is already given, that of Jesus’ as determined by the Church. Every aspect of our life is now determined by another, the complete and gradual conformation to the person of another, the participation in the redemptive mission of the Son. Without the humble obedience to the form of priesthood revealed by Jesus, there is no priesthood but merely our creative imagination of what we think the priesthood should be. Without the guidance of an authority, the priesthood is not a participation in Jesus’ filial relationship to the Father, but a mere profession.

9. The Art Exhibition Il Potere e la Gloria (The Power and the Glory), on Saturday October 17th and dinner afterward at a restaurant nearby to the house of formation. This evening was very special since we got to see a lovely exhibit that told the story of Europe through the stories of various saints and their relationships with the civil powers of the time. What I was most struck by is the concreteness of the presence of the Church in the world, beginning with the martyrs, followed by the desert fathers, the birth of monasticism, and various other saints throughout the story of the Church. The Church was never, and is not isolated from the world, but always in relation to it. This is not to be understood as the Church being reactionary to the world, but meaning that God raises up saints and various communities and ways of living Christianity according to the needs of the world. God is present in history, and is best manifested in the lives of the Saints who embody most fully what it means to be Christian. The best way to become familiar with the history of the Church and of the world, is to read and become familiar with the lives of the saints. God and the Church do not exist in a vacuum but are really at the heart of the world. These were depicted in close to 200 pieces of art, ranging from stained glass windows, sculptures, paintings and movies, which tell the story, not just of the Church but of the world where the Church is incarnate. While in the car, I recommended that we listen to a couple of the CD’s I brought with me from home, and we listened to Joel Plaskett and Jill Barber. A taste of maritime music for my brothers to embrace. Afterward at the restaurant, we all had pizza and really nice appetizers, and beers. We each gave a personal judgment and reading of what we experienced during the exhibition, it was nice to have Inve and Konrad with us, two of our superiors who are very knowledgeable, to help understand certain pieces of artwork. Inve also knew the owner of the restaurant, and somehow organized a sweet deal of a price.

10. Meeting Mother Cristiana fro Vittorchiano, Sunday October 18th. We met with the missionary sisters of St. Charles at Vittorchiano for a meeting with one of the former Mother superiors of the community. She is a friend of don Massimo, and they have known each other since before he was ordained. Don Massimo described her as being a modern day, St. Bernard of Clairvaux, since she was responsible for a major renewal in the cloistered community, and having opened at least five new monasteries for women around the world. She was one of the first students don Giussani had sent to the Vittorchiano monastery following the completion of university. She shared about her experience living and being responsible for the formation of young women thinking of dedicating their lives to prayer and sacrifice for the Church. What I was most struck about her presentation was the way she described friendship within the monastery. When she first arrived there was at least 50 or 100 different type of hand signals to share and communicate amongst themselves. Through this she learned the grandeur of language, and to communicate only that which is essential. When we are silent, we are much more disposed to be spoken to, and for the Beloved to come and meet us. She talked about the importance of authority in the monastery, and how this is only possible if one trusts in God. We can follow and be obedient to another if we fully trust that God will be present and manifest himself through the authorities we have been given. As well, to trust in God who is the source of all true authority. Following the war, there was a lack of stability and uncertainty in the world, and from this environment many women sought the security and clarity of a vocation to virginity within the monastery. An interesting insight into the nature of friendship, she mentioned the awareness that in community we each belong to one another, as the communion of Saints in a certain way, we somehow belong to the whole Church, this means that no one remains a stranger. Moreover there is an intrinsic and persistent suffering required to open one’s self and make space for another, that friendship takes on this form and that real friendship is very risky, because it means accepting the fact that I am going to be determined and defined by another. Friendship is the death of one’s self, only to be opened and regenerated by another.

11. Beethoven Concert Solemn Mass at the Olympic Park. A group of us from the fraternity purchased tickets to attend a symphony performance of Beethoven’s Solemn Mass. This is the second concert I have attended in Rome. This was a lot of fun, for all the boys got dressed and cleaned up, for a night at the concert hall. The week previous Jonah gave a brief presentation of the various parts of the Mass, that he was most struck by. I had an interesting experience at the theatre since I was sitting beside what appeared to be two conductors and their wives. Each of them had a book almost the size of a textbook, which contained the entire seven parts of the Mass. Throughout the playing, they would be flipping back and forth. At first, I was more fascinated with them, than the music and choir. I have begun Latin at the house, and am familiar with the Latin Mass which we celebrate every Saturday morning at the house of formation, this made it much more possible for it to be a prayerful experience. I must confess that I got lost during the Credo, but overall was able to enter into a prayerful spirit.

12. Cribbage with Jonah, and seeking permission to return to Canada for the Christmas vacation. On Friday October 23rd Jonah and I got together for a night of crib and to discuss the article we are working on together. We were both pretty tired that evening, so we decided to concentrate primarily on the cribbage. I had the hot hand that evening, and won the best of three 2-0. We talked about how grateful we both are, that we have been given this friendship together, that we can be more free together, through playing cribbage and speaking in English. Near the end of the evening, I wanted to ask him about the possibility of returning to Canada for Christmas vacation. And at a certain point, I said to myself, if I cannot ask to come home for Christmas, if I don’t feel free to make this proposal, what in the world am I doing here. When all was said and done, Jonah thought it would be a good idea for me to return to Canada for the Christmas vacation. As well, he asked me to think about the possibility of organizing a meeting with don Massimo, on the meaning and importance of these trips home for foreign seminarians. This is very interesting, since we must freely make this decision, to be apart of a missionary community, meaning to make the fraternity the new defining factor in our lives. This can only be learned through distance, and time with the family. Don Massimo and the Fraternity want us to be free, to be at home within the fraternity, and that means to be able to make the free and full decision, to live the distance from our loved ones. This is not an abandonment of our families, but a new appropriation of our lives, and accepting the sacrifice as a response to the love of God, which calls us to freely embrace this decision. I was a little excited after getting the green light, and phoned home immediately and wished my parents happy wedding anniversary, and let them know that their gift would be my presence at Christmas time. And hopefully the chance to shovel some snow.

13. The Mass at the Lateran Basilica to inaugurate the academic year for the Lateran University, and the inviting of Suzanne Ridler to attend and for lunch afterward at the UN Food and Agriculture Organization, Wednesday October 28th. Early in the month of October, I received an email from Suzanne Ridler letting me know that she and her husband would be in Rome for the month of October, and the request to get together for a meal or walk in the city. Following a couple of emails, the best idea was to meet together for Mass at the Lateran Basilica for the inaugurating Mass for the academic year, and afterward go for lunch and a walk in the city. My parents have told me many a times, that they have been good guides and know the city very well. During the Mass I looked for Suzanne, and was pretty sure that we were sitting only couple of aisles apart, and during communion I was certain it was her. We met after the Mass in front of the façade of the Basilica. After an initial greeting, we went to meet Neil at the World Food and Agriculture Organization, part of the United Stations. After signing in, and a brief tour we all had lunch together on the rooftop cafeteria-restaurant. It was a lot of fun, eating outside with a great view of the Eternal City, we had a lovely discussion of what is Communion and Liberation and the Fraternity of St. Charles, as well, of my experience living and discerning my vocation. It was treat to just be together, to learn a little bit of their story, how they met and of their many travels. Afterward, Suzanne and I went for a little walk to visit the gardens of a religious community, we ended up at the Church of Sts. John and Peter, where the founder of the Passionists is buried, as well, we got to see where the Missionary of Charities have their Convent. We stumbled upon another garden, which funny enough was in the backyard of the Fraternity’s parish near St. John Lateran Basilica. I enjoyed telling and showing the community’s parish. Afterward we continued to walk together, and we went to their apartment for tea and cookies. Funny enough, Suzanne had planned to meet another seminarian later in the afternoon, and we were blessed to be all together for close to an hour. A fellow from Nigernia, who studies at the Santa Croce University. We all tried to speak in French, but I was at a loss for words. I was very blessed by this time together, and learning that Rhoda Ann Flood is a good friend of Suzanne, and that Fr. Paul Leblanc seemed to have a miraculous healing.

14. Reading for the month included The Risk of Education, the book of Job, Genesis and the Gospel of Luke, as well as Descartes Discourse on Method and his Meditations, and Pascal’s Pensées.

On Europe's Cathedrals

"Beauty Is a Privileged ... Way to Approach the Mystery of God"

- Here is a translation of Benedict XVI's address today during the general audience, which was held in Paul VI Hall.

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Dear brothers and sisters,

In the catecheses of recent weeks I have presented some aspects of Medieval theology. However Christian faith, profoundly rooted in the men and women of those centuries, did not only give origin to masterpieces of theological literature, of thought and of faith. It also inspired one of the loftiest artistic creations of universal civilization: the cathedrals, true glory of the Christian Middle Ages. In fact, for almost three centuries, beginning in the 11th century, Europe witnessed an extraordinary artistic fervor. An ancient chronicler describes thus the enthusiasm and industry of that time: "It happened that the whole world, but especially in Italy and in Gaul, churches began to be reconstructed, although many, being in good conditions, had no need of this restoration. It was as though one village and another competed; it was as if the world, shaking off its old rags, wished to be clothed everywhere in the white garment of new churches. In sum, almost all the cathedral churches, a great number of monastic churches, and even village chapels, were then restored by the faithful" (Rodolfo el Glabro, Historiarum 3,4).

Several factors contributed to this rebirth of religious architecture. First of all, more favorable historical conditions, such as greater political security, accompanied by a constant increase in the population and the progressive development of cities, of exchanges and of wealth. Moreover, architects found increasingly elaborate technical solutions to increase the dimension of buildings, ensuring at the same time their firmness and majesty. However, it was thanks primarily to the spiritual ardor and zeal of monasticism then in full expansion that abbey churches were erected, where the liturgy could be celebrated with dignity and solemnity, and the faithful could remain in prayer, attracted by the veneration of the relics of the saints, object of countless pilgrimages. Thus the Romanesque churches and cathedrals were born, characterized by their longitudinal development along the naves to house numerous faithful; very solid churches, with thick walls, stone vaults and simple and essential lines.

A novelty is represented by the introduction of sculptures. As Romanesque churches were the place of monastic prayer and the faithful's worship, the sculptors, rather than being concerned with technical perfection, took care above all of the educational end. It was necessary to arouse in souls strong impressions, feelings that could incite them to flee from vice and evil and practice virtue, goodness -- the recurrent theme was the representation of Christ as Universal Judge, surrounded by the personages of revelation. In general it is Romanesque facades that offer this representation, to underline that Christ is the door that leads to heaven. The faithful, crossing the threshold of the sacred building, entered a time and space that were different from those of ordinary life. Beyond the main door of the church, believers in the sovereign, just and merciful Christ could -- the artists hoped -- anticipate eternal happiness in the celebration of the liturgy and in acts of piety carried out inside the sacred building.

In the 12th and 13th centuries, beginning in the north of France, another type of architecture spread in the construction of sacred buildings: the Gothic. This style had two new characteristics as compared to the Romanesque: the vertical thrust and luminosity. Gothic cathedrals showed a synthesis of faith and art expressed harmoniously through the universal and fascinating language of beauty, which still today awakens wonder. Thanks to the introduction of pointed vaults, which were supported by robust pillars, it was possible to notably raise the height [of these churches]. The thrust to the sublime was an invitation to prayer and at the same time was a prayer. The Gothic cathedral thus wished to translate in its architectural lines souls longing for God. Moreover, with the new technical solutions, the perimeter walls could be penetrated and embellished by colorful stained glass windows. In other words, the windows were transformed into great luminous figures, very adapted to instructing the people in the faith. In them -- scene by scene -- were narrated the life of a saint, a parable or other biblical events. From the painted windows a cascade of light was shed on the faithful to narrate to them the history of salvation and to involve them in this history.

Another merit of the Gothic cathedrals was the fact that, in their construction and decoration, the Christian and civil community participated in a different but coordinated way; the poor and the powerful, the illiterate and the learned participated, because in this common house all believers were instructed in the faith. Gothic sculpture made of cathedrals a "Bible of stone," representing the episodes of the Gospel and illustrating the contents of the Liturgical Year, from Christmas to the Lord's glorification. Spreading ever more in those centuries, moreover, was the perception of the Lord's humanity, and the sufferings of his Passion were represented in a realistic way: The suffering Christ (Christus patiens) became an image loved by all, and able to inspire piety and repentance for sins. Not lacking were the personages of the Old Testament, whose history became familiar to the faithful in such a way that they frequented the cathedrals as part of the one, common history of salvation. With their faces full of beauty, tenderness, intelligence, Gothic sculpture of the 13th century reveals a happy and serene piety, which is pleased to emanate a heartfelt and filial devotion to the Mother of God, seen at times as a young, smiling and maternal woman, and represented primarily as the sovereign of heaven and earth, powerful and merciful.

The faithful who filled the Gothic cathedrals wanted to find in them artistic expressions that recalled the saints, models of Christian life and intercessors before God. And there was no lack of "lay" manifestations of existence; hence there appeared here and there representations of work in the fields, in the sciences and in the arts. Everything was oriented and offered to God in the place where the liturgy was celebrated. We can understand better the meaning that was attributed to a Gothic cathedral, considering the text of an inscription on the main door of St. Denis in Paris: "Passer-by, you who want to praise the beauty of these doors, do not be dazzled either by the gold or the magnificence, but by the laborious work. Here shines a famous work, but may the heavens allow that this famous work which shines make spirits shine, so that with luminous truths they will walk toward the true light, where Christ is the true door."

Dear brothers and sisters, I now wish to underline two elements of Romanesque and Gothic art, which are also useful for us.

The first: the works of art born in Europe in past centuries are incomprehensible if one does not take into account the religious soul that inspired them. Marc Chagall, an artist who has always given testimony of the encounter between aesthetics and faith, wrote that "for centuries painters have dyed their brush in that colored alphabet that is the Bible." When faith, celebrated in a particular way in the liturgy, encounters art, a profound synchrony is created, because both can and want to praise God, making the Invisible visible. I would like to share this in the meeting with artists on Nov. 21, renewing that proposal of friendship between Christian spirituality and art, desired by my venerated predecessors, in particular by the Servants of God Paul VI and John Paul II.

The second element: the force of the Romanesque style and the splendor of the Gothic cathedrals remind us that the via pilchritudinis, the way of beauty, is a privileged and fascinating way to approach the Mystery of God. What is beauty, which writers, poets, musicians, and artists contemplate and translate into their language, if not the reflection of the splendor of the Eternal Word made flesh? St. Augustine states: "Ask the beauty of the earth, ask the beauty of the sea, ask the beauty of the ample and diffused air. Ask the beauty of heaven, ask the order of the stars, ask the sun, which with its splendor brightens the day; ask the moon, which with its clarity moderates the darkness of night. Ask the beasts that move in the water, that walk on the earth, that fly in the air: souls that hide, bodies that show themselves; the visible that lets itself be guided, the invisible that guides. Ask them! All will answer you: Look at us, we are beautiful! Their beauty makes them known. This mutable beauty, who has created it if not Immutable Beauty?" (Sermo CCXLI, 2: PL 38, 1134).

Dear brothers and sisters, may the Lord help us to rediscover the way of beauty as one of the ways, perhaps the most attractive and fascinating, to be able to find and love God.

What Europe Owes to Monastery of Cluny

"The Value of the Human Person and the Primary Good of Peace"

- Here is a translation of Benedict XVI's address today during the general audience held in Paul VI Hall.

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Dear brothers and sisters,

This morning I wish to speak of a monastic movement that had great importance in the Medieval centuries, and to which I have already referred in previous catecheses. It is about the Order of Cluny, which, at the beginning of the 12th century, the time of its greatest expansion, had almost 1,200 monasteries: a really impressive figure!

In fact at Cluny, 1,100 years ago, in 910, a monastery was founded and placed under the guidance of Abbot Bernone, after the donation of William the Pious, Duke of Aquitaine. At that time Western monasticism, which flowered some centuries before with St. Benedict, was very impoverished for several reasons: the unstable political and social conditions due to the constant invasions and devastation of people not integrated in the European fabric, widespread poverty and above all the dependence of abbeys on local lords, who controlled everything that belonged to the territory of their competence. In such a context, Cluny represented the soul of a profound renewal of monastic life, to lead it back to its original inspiration.

Represented at Cluny was the observance of the Rule of St. Benedict with some adaptations already introduced by other reformers. Above all the intention was to guarantee the central role that the liturgy must have in Christian life. The monks of Cluny dedicated themselves with love and great care to the celebration of the Liturgy of the Hours, the singing of psalms, to processions both devotional and solemn and, above all, to the celebration of Holy Mass. They promoted sacred music; they wanted architecture and art to contribute to the beauty and solemnity of the rites; they enriched the liturgical calendar with special celebrations such as, for example, the commemoration of the faithful deceased at the beginning of November, which we also celebrated a short time ago; the they enhanced devotion to the Virgin Mary.

So much importance was given to the liturgy because the monks of Cluny were convinced that it was participation in the liturgy of Heaven. And the monks felt responsible to intercede at the altar of God for the living and the dead, given that very many faithful repeatedly requested them to be remembered in prayer. On the other hand, it was precisely for this purpose that William the Pious had desired the birth of the Abbey of Cluny. In the ancient document, which attests to the foundation, we read: "With this gift I establish that a monastery of regulars be built at Cluny in honor of the Holy Apostles Peter and Paul, and that monks gather here who live according to the Rule of St. Benedict (...) and that it be a venerable asylum of prayer which is frequented with vows and supplications, seeking and yearning with every desire and profound ardor the celestial life, and assiduous prayers, invocations and supplications addressed to the Lord."

To guard and nourish this climate of prayer, the rule of Cluny emphasized the importance of silence, a discipline to which the monks willingly submitted themselves, convinced that the purity of the virtues, to which they aspired, required profound and constant recollection. It is no wonder that very soon, fame for holiness was attributed to the monastery of Cluny, and that many other monastic communities decided to follow its practices. Many princes and popes requested the abbots of Cluny to spread their reform, to the point that in a short time a multitudinous network of monasteries were linked to Cluny, wither with true and proper juridical links or a sort of charismatic affiliation. Thus a Europe of the spirit was being delineated in the different regions of France, Italy, Spain, Germany and Hungary.

The success of Cluny was assured first of all by the lofty spirituality cultivated there, but also by some other conditions that favored its development. As opposed to what had happened up to then, the monastery of Cluny and the communities depending on it were exempted from the jurisdiction of the local bishops and placed directly under that of the Roman Pontiff. This entailed a special bond with the See of Peter and, thanks precisely to the protection and encouragement of pontiffs, the ideals of purity and fidelity, which the Cluniac reform intended to follow, were able to spread rapidly. Moreover, the abbots were elected without any intervention by the civil authorities, very different to what was the case in other places. Truly worthy persons succeeded one another in the guidance of Cluny and of the numerous dependent monastic communities: Abbot Odo of Cluny, of whom I spoke in a catechesis two months ago, and other great personalities, such as Emard, Maiolus, Odilo and above all Hugh the Great, who carried out their service for long periods, ensured stability to the reform undertaken and to its diffusion. Venerated as saints, in addition to Odo, are Maiolus, Odilo and Hugh.

The Cluniac reform had positive effects not only on the purification and reawakening of monastic life, but also on the life of the universal Church. In fact, the aspiration to evangelical perfection represented a stimulus to combat two grave evils that afflicted the Church in that period: simony, that is the acquisition of compensated pastoral offices, and the immorality of the secular clergy. The abbots of Cluny with their spiritual authoritativeness, the Cluniac monks who became bishops, some of them even popes, were protagonists of such an imposing action of spiritual renewal. And the fruits were not lacking: The celibacy of priests became esteemed and lived, and more transparent procedures were introduced in the assumption of ecclesiastical offices.

Significant also were the benefits contributed to society by monasteries inspired by the Cluniac reform. At a time in which only ecclesiastical institutions provided for the indigent, charity was practiced with determination. In all houses, the almoner had to receive passers-by and needy pilgrims, traveling priests and religious, and above all the poor who came to ask for food and roof for a day. Not less important were two other institutions, typical of Medieval civilization, which were promoted by Cluny: the so-called truce of God and the peace of God. At a time strongly marked by violence and the spirit of revenge, assured with the "truce of God" were long periods of non-belligerence, on the occasion of important religious feasts and of some days of the week. Requested with "the peace of God," under the pain of a canonical censure, was respect for defenseless people and sacred places.

Thus enhanced in the conscience of the people of Europe was that process of long gestation, which led to the recognition, in an ever clearer way, of two essential elements for the construction of society, that is, the value of the human person and the primary good of peace. Moreover, as happened with other monastic foundations, the Cluniac monasteries had ample properties that, put diligently to good use, contributed to the development of the economy. Next to manual labor, there was no lack of some typical cultural activities of Medieval monasticism, such as schools for children, the setting up of libraries and the scriptoria for the transcription of books.

In this way, a thousand years ago, when the process of the formation of European identity was at its height, the Cluniac experience spread over vast regions of the European Continent, and made its important and precious contribution. It recalled the primacy of the goods of the spirit; from this it drew the tension toward the things of God; it inspired and favored initiatives and institutions for the promotion of human values; it educated in a spirit of peace.

In our catechesis on the Christian culture of the Middle Ages, we now turn to the monastic reform linked to the great monastery of Cluny. Founded eleven hundred years ago, Cluny restored the strict observance of the Rule of Saint Benedict and made the Church’s liturgy the centre of its life. It stressed the solemn celebration of the Liturgy of the Hours and Holy Mass, and enriched the worship of God with splendid art, architecture and music. The monastic liturgy, seen as a foretaste of the heavenly liturgy, was accompanied by a daily regime marked by silence and intercessory prayer. Cluny’s reputation for sanctity and learning caused its influence to spread to monasteries throughout Europe. Exempt from interference by feudal authorities, the monastery freely elected its abbots and flourished under a series of outstanding spiritual leaders like Saints Odo and Hugh. Cluny also contributed to the reform of the universal Church by its concern for holiness, the restoration of clerical celibacy and the elimination of simony. At a formative time of Europe’s history, Cluny helped to forge the Continent’s Christian identity by its emphasis on the primacy of the spirit, respect for human dignity, commitment to peace and an authentic and integral humanism.

On Theology of the Heart or the Reason

"To Make Truth Triumph in Charity"

Here is a translation of Benedict XVI's address today during the general audience held in St. Peter's Square.

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Dear brothers and sisters,

In the last catechesis I presented the main characteristics of 12th century monastic and scholastic theology, which in a certain sense we could call, respectively, "theology of the heart" and "theology of reason." A wide debate, at times fiery, took place between the representatives of each current, represented symbolically by the controversy between St. Bernard of Clairvaux and Abelard.

To understand this confrontation between the two great teachers, it is good to recall that theology is the search for a rational understanding, insofar as possible, of the mystery of Christian revelation, believed by faith: fides quaerens intellectum -- faith seeking understanding -- to use a traditional, concise and effective definition.

Now, whereas St. Bernard, typical representative of monastic theology, places the accent on the first part of the definition, that is, on fides -- faith, Abelard, who is a scholastic, stresses the second part, that is, the intellectus -- on understanding through reason. For Bernard, faith itself is gifted with a profound certainty based on the testimony of Scripture and on the teaching of the Church fathers. Faith, moreover, is reinforced by the testimony of the saints and by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit in the soul of each believer. In cases of doubt or ambiguity, faith must be protected and enlightened by the exercise of the ecclesial magisterium.

So for Bernard it is difficult to agree with Abelard and, more generally, with those who subjected the truths of the faith to the critical examination of reason, an examination that, in his opinion, entailed a grave danger, intellectualism, the relativization of truth, discussion of the very truths of the faith. Bernard saw in this way of proceeding an audacity to the point of lacking scruples, fruit of the pride of human intelligence, which attempts to "grasp" the mystery of God. Pained, he wrote thus in one of his letters: "Human wit grasps everything, leaving nothing to faith. It confronts what is beyond it; scrutinizes what is superior to it; invades the world of God; alters, more than illumines, the mysteries of the faith; it does not open what is closed and sealed, but eradicates it, and what is does not find viable, it considers as nothing, and refuses to believe in it" (Epistola CLXXXVIII,1: PL 182, I, 353).

For Bernard, theology has only one end: that of promoting the intense and profound experience of God. Therefore, theology is an aid to love the Lord ever more and better, as states the title of the treatise on the Duty to Love God (De diligendo Deo). Along this way, there are different degrees, which Bernard describes in detail, up to the highest, when the soul of the believer is inebriated on the summits of love. The human soul can attain already on earth that mystical union with the Divine Word, a union that the doctor mellifluus describes as "spiritual espousals." The Divine Word visits her, eliminates the last resistances, illumines her, inflames her and transforms her. In this mystical union, [the soul] enjoys great peace and sweetness, and sings to her Spouse a hymn of joy. As I reminded in the catechesis dedicated to the life and doctrine of St. Bernard, for him theology cannot but be nourished by contemplative prayer, in other words, by the affective union of the heart and mind with God.

Abelard, on the other hand, who is precisely the one who introduced the term "theology" in the sense in which we understand it today, places himself in a different perspective. Born in Brittany, in France, this famous teacher of the 12th century was gifted with a very acute intelligence and his vocation was study. He concerned himself first with philosophy, and then applied the results obtained in this discipline to theology, which he taught in Paris, the most cultured city of the time, and subsequently, in the monasteries in which he lived. He was a brilliant orator: His lessons were followed by true and proper masses of students.

Of a religious spirit but of a restless personality, his life was full of dramatics: He refuted his teachers, had a child with Eloise, an educated and intelligent woman. He was often in controversy with his theological colleagues. He also suffered ecclesiastical condemnations, though he died in full communion with the Church, to whose authority he submitted with a spirit of faith.

In fact St. Bernard contributed to the condemnation of some of Abelard's doctrines in the provincial synod of Sens of 1140, and he also requested the intervention of Pope Innocent II. The abbot of Clairvaux rejected, as we recalled, Abelard's too-intellectualist method, which in his eyes reduced the faith to a simple opinion detached from revealed truth. Bernard's fears were not unfounded, but were shared, moreover, by other great thinkers of his time. In fact, an excessive use of philosophy made Abelard's Trinitarian doctrine dangerously fragile, and thus his idea of God. In the moral field his teaching was not lacking in ambiguity: He insisted on considering the individual's intention as the only source to describe the goodness or evil of moral acts, thus neglecting the objective meaning and moral values of actions: a dangerous subjectivism. This is -- as we know -- a very pertinent element for our times, in which culture often seems marked by a growing tendency to ethical relativism: only the "I" decides what is good for me, at this moment.

However, we must not forget the great merits of Abelard, who had many disciples and who contributed to the development of scholastic theology, destined to express itself in a more mature and fruitful way in the next century. Some of his intuitions should not be undervalued, as for example when he affirms that in non-Christian religious traditions there is already a preparation for the acceptance of Christ, Divine Word.

What can we learn today from the often heated confrontation between Bernard and Abelard and, in general, between monastic and scholastic theology? Above all I believe it shows the usefulness of and the need for a healthy discussion in the Church, especially when the questions debated have not been defined by the magisterium, which continues to be, however, an essential point of reference. St. Bernard, but also Abelard himself, always recognized, without doubting, its authority. Moreover, the condemnations that the latter suffered remind us that in the theological field there must be a balance between what we might call the architectonic principles that have been given to us by Revelation and that, because of this, always are of prime importance, and the interpretative principles suggested by philosophy, that is, by reason, which has an important function, but only instrumental. When this balance between the architecture and the instruments of interpretation diminishes, theological reflection runs the risk of being contaminated with errors, and then it corresponds to the magisterium to exercise that necessary service to truth that is proper to it.

Moreover, it must be emphasized that, between the motivations that induced Bernard to place himself against Abelard and to request the intervention of the magisterium, was, also, the concern to safeguard simple and humble believers, who must be defended when they run the risk of being confused or led astray by opinions that are too personal and by theological argumentations without scruples, which might endanger their faith.

Finally, I would like to recall that the theological confrontation between Bernard and Abelard ended with full reconciliation between them, thanks to the mediation of a common friend, Peter the Venerable, abbot of Cluny, of whom I spoke in a previous catechesis. Abelard showed humility in acknowledging his errors; Bernard used great benevolence. There prevailed in both what should truly be in the heart when a theological controversy is born, that is, to safeguard the faith of the Church and to make truth triumph in charity. May this also be the attitude with which there are confrontations in the Church, always keeping as the aim the pursuit of truth.