On: Love, Freedom, Abortion And God Posted: 04-14-06 15:49pm
1. It seems a few people are having a
little problems with love, this post is
therefore a timely message for all of us
on this board and certainly the whole
world..
A problem of language
2. God's love for us is fundamental for
our lives, and it raises important
questions about who god is and who we are.
In considering this, we immediately find
ourselves hampered by a problem of
language. Today, the term “love” has
become one of the most frequently used and
misused of words, a word to which we
attach quite different meanings. Even
though this post will deal primarily with
the understanding and practice of love in
sacred scripture and in the church's
tradition, we cannot simply prescind from
the meaning of the word in the different
cultures and in present-day usage.
Let us first of all bring to mind the vast
semantic range of the word “love”: we
speak of love of country, love of one's
profession, love between friends, love of
work, love between parents and children,
love between family members, love of
neighbour and love of god. Amid this
multiplicity of meanings, however, one in
particular stands out: love between man
and woman, where body and soul are
inseparably joined and human beings
glimpse an apparently irresistible promise
of happiness. This would seem to be the
very epitome of love; all other kinds of
love immediately seem to fade in
comparison. So we need to ask: are all
these forms of love basically one, so that
love, in its many and varied
manifestations, is ultimately a single
reality, or are we merely using the same
word to designate totally different
realities?
“eros” and “agape” – difference
and unity
3. That love between man and woman which
is neither planned nor willed, but somehow
imposes itself upon human beings, was
called eros by the ancient greeks. Let us
note straight away that the greek old
testament uses the word eros only twice,
while the new testament does not use it at
all: of the three greek words for love,
eros, philia (the love of friendship) and
agape, new testament writers prefer the
last, which occurs rather infrequently in
greek usage. As for the term philia, the
love of friendship, it is used with added
depth of meaning in saint john's gospel in
order to express the relationship between
jesus and his disciples. The tendency to
avoid the word eros, together with the new
vision of love expressed through the word
agape, clearly point to something new and
distinct about the christian understanding
of love. In the critique of christianity
which began with the enlightenment and
grew progressively more radical, this new
element was seen as something thoroughly
negative. According to friedrich
nietzsche, christianity had poisoned eros,
which for its part, while not completely
succumbing, gradually degenerated into
vice.[1] here the german philosopher was
expressing a widely-held perception:
doesn't the church, with all her
commandments and prohibitions, turn to
bitterness the most precious thing in
life? Doesn't she blow the whistle just
when the joy which is the creator's gift
offers us a happiness which is itself a
certain foretaste of the divine?
4. But is this the case? Did
christianity really destroy eros? Let us
take a look at the pre- christian world.
The greeks—not unlike other
cultures—considered eros principally as
a kind of intoxication, the overpowering
of reason by a “divine madness” which
tears man away from his finite existence
and enables him, in the very process of
being overwhelmed by divine power, to
experience supreme happiness. All other
powers in heaven and on earth thus appear
secondary: “omnia vincit amor” says
virgil in the bucolics—love conquers
all—and he adds: “et nos cedamus
amori”—let us, too, yield to love.[2]
in the religions, this attitude found
expression in fertility cults, part of
which was the “sacred” prostitution
which flourished in many temples. Eros
was thus celebrated as divine power, as
fellowship with the divine.
The old testament firmly opposed this form
of religion, which represents a powerful
temptation against monotheistic faith,
combating it as a perversion of
religiosity. But it in no way rejected
eros as such; rather, it declared war on a
warped and destructive form of it, because
this counterfeit divinization of eros
actually strips it of its dignity and
dehumanizes it. Indeed, the prostitutes
in the temple, who had to bestow this
divine intoxication, were not treated as
human beings and persons, but simply used
as a means of arousing “divine
madness”: far from being goddesses, they
were human persons being exploited. An
intoxicated and undisciplined eros, then,
is not an ascent in “ecstasy” towards
the divine, but a fall, a degradation of
man. Evidently, eros needs to be
disciplined and purified if it is to
provide not just fleeting pleasure, but a
certain foretaste of the pinnacle of our
existence, of that beatitude for which our
whole being yearns.
5. Two things emerge clearly from this
rapid overview of the concept of eros past
and present. First, there is a certain
relationship between love and the divine:
love promises infinity, eternity—a
reality far greater and totally other than
our everyday existence. Yet we have also
seen that the way to attain this goal is
not simply by submitting to instinct.
Purification and growth in maturity are
called for; and these also pass through
the path of renunciation. Far from
rejecting or “poisoning” eros, they
heal it and restore its true grandeur.
This is due first and foremost to the fact
that man is a being made up of body and
soul. Man is truly himself when his body
and soul are intimately united; the
challenge of eros can be said to be truly
overcome when this unification is
achieved. Should he aspire to be pure
spirit and to reject the flesh as
pertaining to his animal nature alone,
then spirit and body would both lose their
dignity. On the other hand, should he
deny the spirit and consider matter, the
body, as the only reality, he would
likewise lose his greatness. The epicure
gassendi used to offer descartes the
humorous greeting: “o soul!” and
descartes would reply: “o flesh!”.[3]
yet it is neither the spirit alone nor the
body alone that loves: it is man, the
person, a unified creature composed of
body and soul, who loves. Only when both
dimensions are truly united, does man
attain his full stature. Only thus is
love —eros—able to mature and attain
its authentic grandeur.
Nowadays christianity of the past is often
criticized as having been opposed to the
body; and it is quite true that tendencies
of this sort have always existed. Yet the
contemporary way of exalting the body is
deceptive. Eros, reduced to pure
“sex”, has become a commodity, a mere
“thing” to be bought and sold, or
rather, man himself becomes a commodity.
This is hardly man's great “yes” to
the body. On the contrary, he now
considers his body and his sexuality as
the purely material part of himself, to be
used and exploited at will. Nor does he
see it as an arena for the exercise of his
freedom, but as a mere object that he
attempts, as he pleases, to make both
enjoyable and harmless. Here we are
actually dealing with a debasement of the
human body: no longer is it integrated
into our overall existential freedom; no
longer is it a vital expression of our
whole being, but it is more or less
relegated to the purely biological sphere.
The apparent exaltation of the body can
quickly turn into a hatred of bodiliness.
Christian faith, on the other hand, has
always considered man a unity in duality,
a reality in which spirit and matter
compenetrate, and in which each is brought
to a new nobility. True, eros tends to
rise “in ecstasy” towards the divine,
to lead us beyond ourselves; yet for this
very reason it calls for a path of ascent,
renunciation, purification and healing.
6. Concretely, what does this path of
ascent and purification entail? How might
love be experienced so that it can fully
realize its human and divine promise?
Here we can find a first, important
indication in the song of songs, an old
testament book well known to the mystics.
According to the interpretation generally
held today, the poems contained in this
book were originally love-songs, perhaps
intended for a jewish wedding feast and
meant to exalt conjugal love. In this
context it is highly instructive to note
that in the course of the book two
different hebrew words are used to
indicate “love”. First there is the
word dodim, a plural form suggesting a
love that is still insecure, indeterminate
and searching. This comes to be replaced
by the word ahabà, which the greek
version of the old testament translates
with the similar-sounding agape, which, as
we have seen, becomes the typical
expression for the biblical notion of
love. By contrast with an indeterminate,
“searching” love, this word expresses
the experience of a love which involves a
real discovery of the other, moving beyond
the selfish character that prevailed
earlier. Love now becomes concern and
care for the other. No longer is it
self-seeking, a sinking in the
intoxication of happiness; instead it
seeks the good of the beloved: it becomes
renunciation and it is ready, and even
willing, for sacrifice.
It is part of love's growth towards higher
levels and inward purification that it now
seeks to become definitive, and it does so
in a twofold sense: both in the sense of
exclusivity (this particular person alone)
and in the sense of being “for ever”.
Love embraces the whole of existence in
each of its dimensions, including the
dimension of time. It could hardly be
otherwise, since its promise looks towards
its definitive goal: love looks to the
eternal. Love is indeed “ecstasy”,
not in the sense of a moment of
intoxication, but rather as a journey, an
ongoing exodus out of the closed
inward-looking self towards its liberation
through self-giving, and thus towards
authentic self-discovery and indeed the
discovery of god: “whoever seeks to gain
his life will lose it, but whoever loses
his life will preserve it” (lk 17:33),
as jesus says throughout the gospels (cf.
Mt 10:39; 16:25; mk 8:35; lk 9:24; jn
12:25). In these words, jesus portrays
his own path, which leads through the
cross to the resurrection: the path of the
grain of wheat that falls to the ground
and dies, and in this way bears much
fruit. Starting from the depths of his
own sacrifice and of the love that reaches
fulfilment therein, he also portrays in
these words the essence of love and indeed
of human life itself.
7. By their own inner logic, these
initial, somewhat philosophical
reflections on the essence of love have
now brought us to the threshold of
biblical faith. We began by asking
whether the different, or even opposed,
meanings of the word “love” point to
some profound underlying unity, or whether
on the contrary they must remain
unconnected, one alongside the other.
More significantly, though, we questioned
whether the message of love proclaimed to
us by the bible and the church's tradition
has some points of contact with the common
human experience of love, or whether it is
opposed to that experience. This in turn
led us to consider two fundamental words:
eros, as a term to indicate “worldly”
love and agape, referring to love grounded
in and shaped by faith. The two notions
are often contrasted as “ascending”
love and “descending” love. There are
other, similar classifications, such as
the distinction between possessive love
and oblative love (amor concupiscentiae
– amor benevolentiae), to which is
sometimes also added love that seeks its
own advantage.
In philosophical and theological debate,
these distinctions have often been
radicalized to the point of establishing a
clear antithesis between them: descending,
oblative love—agape—would be typically
christian, while on the other hand
ascending, possessive or covetous love
—eros—would be typical of
non-christian, and particularly greek
culture. Were this antithesis to be taken
to extremes, the essence of christianity
would be detached from the vital relations
fundamental to human existence, and would
become a world apart, admirable perhaps,
but decisively cut off from the complex
fabric of human life. Yet eros and
agape—ascending love and descending
love—can never be completely separated.
The more the two, in their different
aspects, find a proper unity in the one
reality of love, the more the true nature
of love in general is realized. Even if
eros is at first mainly covetous and
ascending, a fascination for the great
promise of happiness, in drawing near to
the other, it is less and less concerned
with itself, increasingly seeks the
happiness of the other, is concerned more
and more with the beloved, bestows itself
and wants to “be there for” the other.
The element of agape thus enters into
this love, for otherwise eros is
impoverished and even loses its own
nature. On the other hand, man cannot
live by oblative, descending love alone.
He cannot always give, he must also
receive. Anyone who wishes to give love
must also receive love as a gift.
Certainly, as the lord tells us, one can
become a source from which rivers of
living water flow (cf. Jn 7:37-38). Yet
to become such a source, one must
constantly drink anew from the original
source, which is jesus christ, from whose
pierced heart flows the love of god (cf.
Jn 19:34).
In the account of jacob's ladder, the
fathers of the church saw this inseparable
connection between ascending and
descending love, between eros which seeks
god and agape which passes on the gift
received, symbolized in various ways. In
that biblical passage we read how the
patriarch jacob saw in a dream, above the
stone which was his pillow, a ladder
reaching up to heaven, on which the angels
of god were ascending and descending (cf.
Gen 28:12; jn 1:51). A particularly
striking interpretation of this vision is
presented by pope gregory the great in his
pastoral rule. He tells us that the good
pastor must be rooted in contemplation.
Only in this way will he be able to take
upon himself the needs of others and make
them his own: “per pietatis viscera in
se infirmitatem caeterorum
transferat”.[4] saint gregory speaks in
this context of saint paul, who was borne
aloft to the most exalted mysteries of
god, and hence, having descended once
more, he was able to become all things to
all men (cf. 2 cor 12:2-4; 1 cor 9:22).
He also points to the example of moses,
who entered the tabernacle time and again,
remaining in dialogue with god, so that
when he emerged he could be at the service
of his people. “within [the tent] he is
borne aloft through contemplation, while
without he is completely engaged in
helping those who suffer: intus in
contemplationem rapitur, foris
infirmantium negotiis urgetur.”[5]
8. We have thus come to an initial,
albeit still somewhat generic response to
the two questions raised earlier.
Fundamentally, “love” is a single
reality, but with different dimensions; at
different times, one or other dimension
may emerge more clearly. Yet when the two
dimensions are totally cut off from one
another, the result is a caricature or at
least an impoverished form of love. And
we have also seen, synthetically, that
biblical faith does not set up a parallel
universe, or one opposed to that
primordial human phenomenon which is love,
but rather accepts the whole man; it
intervenes in his search for love in order
to purify it and to reveal new dimensions
of it. This newness of biblical faith is
shown chiefly in two elements which
deserve to be highlighted: the image of
god and the image of man.
The newness of biblical faith
9. First, the world of the bible presents
us with a new image of god. In
surrounding cultures, the image of god and
of the gods ultimately remained unclear
and contradictory. In the development of
biblical faith, however, the content of
the prayer fundamental to israel, the
shema, became increasingly clear and
unequivocal: “hear, o israel, the lord
our god is one lord” (dt 6:4). There is
only one god, the creator of heaven and
earth, who is thus the god of all. Two
facts are significant about this
statement: all other gods are not god, and
the universe in which we live has its
source in god and was created by him.
Certainly, the notion of creation is found
elsewhere, yet only here does it become
absolutely clear that it is not one god
among many, but the one true god himself
who is the source of all that exists; the
whole world comes into existence by the
power of his creative word. Consequently,
his creation is dear to him, for it was
willed by him and “made” by him. The
second important element now emerges: this
god loves man. The divine power that
aristotle at the height of greek
philosophy sought to grasp through
reflection, is indeed for every being an
object of desire and of love —and as the
object of love this divinity moves the
world[6]—but in itself it lacks nothing
and does not love: it is solely the object
of love. The one god in whom israel
believes, on the other hand, loves with a
personal love. His love, moreover, is an
elective love: among all the nations he
chooses israel and loves her—but he does
so precisely with a view to healing the
whole human race. God loves, and his love
may certainly be called eros, yet it is
also totally agape.[7]
the prophets, particularly hosea and
ezekiel, described god's passion for his
people using boldly erotic images. God's
relationship with israel is described
using the metaphors of betrothal and
marriage; idolatry is thus adultery and
prostitution. Here we find a specific
reference—as we have seen—to the
fertility cults and their abuse of eros,
but also a description of the relationship
of fidelity between israel and her god.
The history of the love-relationship
between god and israel consists, at the
deepest level, in the fact that he gives
her the torah, thereby opening israel's
eyes to man's true nature and showing her
the path leading to true humanism. It
consists in the fact that man, through a
life of fidelity to the one god, comes to
experience himself as loved by god, and
discovers joy in truth and in
righteousness—a joy in god which becomes
his essential happiness: “whom do I have
in heaven but you? And there is nothing
upon earth that I desire besides you ...
For me it is good to be near god” (ps 73
[72]:25, 28).
10. We have seen that god's eros for man
is also totally agape. This is not only
because it is bestowed in a completely
gratuitous manner, without any previous
merit, but also because it is love which
forgives. Hosea above all shows us that
this agape dimension of god's love for man
goes far beyond the aspect of gratuity.
Israel has committed “adultery” and
has broken the covenant; god should judge
and repudiate her. It is precisely at
this point that god is revealed to be god
and not man: “how can I give you up, o
ephraim! How can I hand you over, o
israel! ... My heart recoils within me,
my compassion grows warm and tender. I
will not execute my fierce anger, I will
not again destroy ephraim; for I am god
and not man, the holy one in your midst”
(hos 11:8-9). God's passionate love for
his people—for humanity—is at the same
time a forgiving love. It is so great
that it turns god against himself, his
love against his justice. Here christians
can see a dim prefigurement of the mystery
of the cross: so great is god's love for
man that by becoming man he follows him
even into death, and so reconciles justice
and love.
The philosophical dimension to be noted in
this biblical vision, and its importance
from the standpoint of the history of
religions, lies in the fact that on the
one hand we find ourselves before a
strictly metaphysical image of god: god is
the absolute and ultimate source of all
being; but this universal principle of
creation—the logos, primordial
reason—is at the same time a lover with
all the passion of a true love. Eros is
thus supremely ennobled, yet at the same
time it is so purified as to become one
with agape. We can thus see how the
reception of the song of songs in the
canon of sacred scripture was soon
explained by the idea that these love
songs ultimately describe god's relation
to man and man's relation to god. Thus
the song of songs became, both in
christian and jewish literature, a source
of mystical knowledge and experience, an
expression of the essence of biblical
faith: that man can indeed enter into
union with god—his primordial
aspiration. But this union is no mere
fusion, a sinking in the nameless ocean of
the divine; it is a unity which creates
love, a unity in which both god and man
remain themselves and yet become fully
one. As saint paul says: “he who is
united to the lord becomes one spirit with
him” (1 cor 6:17).
11. The first novelty of biblical faith
consists, as we have seen, in its image of
god. The second, essentially connected to
this, is found in the image of man. The
biblical account of creation speaks of the
solitude of adam, the first man, and god's
decision to give him a helper. Of all
other creatures, not one is capable of
being the helper that man needs, even
though he has assigned a name to all the
wild beasts and birds and thus made them
fully a part of his life. So god forms
woman from the rib of man. Now adam finds
the helper that he needed: “this at last
is bone of my bones and flesh of my
flesh” (gen 2:23). Here one might
detect hints of ideas that are also found,
for example, in the myth mentioned by
plato, according to which man was
originally spherical, because he was
complete in himself and self-sufficient.
But as a punishment for pride, he was
split in two by zeus, so that now he longs
for his other half, striving with all his
being to possess it and thus regain his
integrity.[8] while the biblical narrative
does not speak of punishment, the idea is
certainly present that man is somehow
incomplete, driven by nature to seek in
another the part that can make him whole,
the idea that only in communion with the
opposite sex can he become “complete”.
The biblical account thus concludes with
a prophecy about adam: “therefore a man
leaves his father and his mother and
cleaves to his wife and they become one
flesh” (gen 2:24).
Two aspects of this are important. First,
eros is somehow rooted in man's very
nature; adam is a seeker, who “abandons
his mother and father” in order to find
woman; only together do the two represent
complete humanity and become “one
flesh”. The second aspect is equally
important. From the standpoint of
creation, eros directs man towards
marriage, to a bond which is unique and
definitive; thus, and only thus, does it
fulfil its deepest purpose. Corresponding
to the image of a monotheistic god is
monogamous marriage. Marriage based on
exclusive and definitive love becomes the
icon of the relationship between god and
his people and vice versa. God's way of
loving becomes the measure of human love.
This close connection between eros and
marriage in the bible has practically no
equivalent in extra-biblical literature.
Jesus christ – the incarnate love of
god
12. Though up to now we have been
speaking mainly of the old testament,
nevertheless the profound compenetration
of the two testaments as the one scripture
of the christian faith has already become
evident. The real novelty of the new
testament lies not so much in new ideas as
in the figure of christ himself, who gives
flesh and blood to those concepts—an
unprecedented realism. In the old
testament, the novelty of the bible did
not consist merely in abstract notions but
in god's unpredictable and in some sense
unprecedented activity. This divine
activity now takes on dramatic form when,
in jesus christ, it is god himself who
goes in search of the “stray sheep”, a
suffering and lost humanity. When jesus
speaks in his parables of the shepherd who
goes after the lost sheep, of the woman
who looks for the lost coin, of the father
who goes to meet and embrace his prodigal
son, these are no mere words: they
constitute an explanation of his very
being and activity. His death on the
cross is the culmination of that turning
of god against himself in which he gives
himself in order to raise man up and save
him. This is love in its most radical
form. By contemplating the pierced side
of christ (cf. 19:37), we can understand
the starting-point of this post : “god
is love” (1 jn 4:8). It is there that
this truth can be contemplated. It is
from there that our definition of love
must begin. In this contemplation the
christian discovers the path along which
his life and love must move.
13. Jesus gave this act of oblation an
enduring presence through his institution
of the eucharist at the last supper. He
anticipated his death and resurrection by
giving his disciples, in the bread and
wine, his very self, his body and blood as
the new manna (cf. Jn 6:31-33). The
ancient world had dimly perceived that
man's real food—what truly nourishes him
as man—is ultimately the logos, eternal
wisdom: this same logos now truly becomes
food for us—as love. The eucharist
draws us into jesus' act of self-oblation.
More than just statically receiving the
incarnate logos, we enter into the very
dynamic of his self-giving. The imagery
of marriage between god and israel is now
realized in a way previously
inconceivable: it had meant standing in
god's presence, but now it becomes union
with god through sharing in jesus'
self-gift, sharing in his body and blood.
The sacramental “mysticism”, grounded
in god's condescension towards us,
operates at a radically different level
and lifts us to far greater heights than
anything that any human mystical elevation
could ever accomplish.
14. Here we need to consider yet another
aspect: this sacramental “mysticism”
is social in character, for in sacramental
communion I become one with the lord, like
all the other communicants. As saint paul
says, “because there is one bread, we
who are many are one body, for we all
partake of the one bread” (1 cor 10:17).
Union with christ is also union with all
those to whom he gives himself. I cannot
possess christ just for myself; I can
belong to him only in union with all those
who have become, or who will become, his
own. Communion draws me out of myself
towards him, and thus also towards unity
with all christians. We become “one
body”, completely joined in a single
existence. Love of god and love of
neighbour are now truly united: god
incarnate draws us all to himself. We can
thus understand how agape also became a
term for the eucharist: there god's own
agape comes to us bodily, in order to
continue his work in us and through us.
Only by keeping in mind this
christological and sacramental basis can
we correctly understand jesus' teaching on
love. The transition which he makes from
the law and the prophets to the twofold
commandment of love of god and of
neighbour, and his grounding the whole
life of faith on this central precept, is
not simply a matter of
morality—something that could exist
apart from and alongside faith in christ
and its sacramental re-actualization.
Faith, worship and ethos are interwoven as
a single reality which takes shape in our
encounter with god's agape. Here the
usual contraposition between worship and
ethics simply falls apart. “worship”
itself, eucharistic communion, includes
the reality both of being loved and of
loving others in turn. A eucharist which
does not pass over into the concrete
practice of love is intrinsically
fragmented. Conversely, as we shall have
to consider in greater detail below, the
“commandment” of love is only possible
because it is more than a requirement.
Love can be “commanded” because it has
first been given.
15. This principle is the starting-point
for understanding the great parables of
jesus. The rich man (cf. Lk 16:19-31)
begs from his place of torment that his
brothers be informed about what happens to
those who simply ignore the poor man in
need. Jesus takes up this cry for help as
a warning to help us return to the right
path. The parable of the good samaritan
(cf. Lk 10:25-37) offers two particularly
important clarifications. Until that
time, the concept of “neighbour” was
understood as referring essentially to
one's countrymen and to foreigners who had
settled in the land of israel; in other
words, to the closely-knit community of a
single country or people. This limit is
now abolished. Anyone who needs me, and
whom I can help, is my neighbour. The
concept of “neighbour” is now
universalized, yet it remains concrete.
Despite being extended to all mankind, it
is not reduced to a generic, abstract and
undemanding expression of love, but calls
for my own practical commitment here and
now. The church has the duty to interpret
ever anew this relationship between near
and far with regard to the actual daily
life of her members. Lastly, we should
especially mention the great parable of
the last judgement (cf. Mt 25:31-46), in
which love becomes the criterion for the
definitive decision about a human life's
worth or lack thereof. Jesus identifies
himself with those in need, with the
hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the
naked, the sick and those in prison.
“as you did it to one of the least of
these my brethren, you did it to me” (mt
25:40). Love of god and love of neighbour
have become one: in the least of the
brethren we find jesus himself, and in
jesus we find god.
Love of god and love of neighbour
16. Having reflected on the nature of
love and its meaning in biblical faith, we
are left with two questions concerning our
own attitude: can we love god without
seeing him? And can love be commanded?
Against the double commandment of love
these questions raise a double objection.
No one has ever seen god, so how could we
love him? Moreover, love cannot be
commanded; it is ultimately a feeling that
is either there or not, nor can it be
produced by the will. Scripture seems to
reinforce the first objection when it
states: “if anyone says, ‘i love god,'
and hates his brother, he is a liar; for
he who does not love his brother whom he
has seen, cannot love god whom he has not
seen” (1 jn 4:20). But this text hardly
excludes the love of god as something
impossible. On the contrary, the whole
context of the passage quoted from the
first letter of john shows that such love
is explicitly demanded. The unbreakable
bond between love of god and love of
neighbour is emphasized. One is so
closely connected to the other that to say
that we love god becomes a lie if we are
closed to our neighbour or hate him
altogether. Saint john's words should
rather be interpreted to mean that love of
neighbour is a path that leads to the
encounter with god, and that closing our
eyes to our neighbour also blinds us to
god.
17. True, no one has ever seen god as he
is. And yet god is not totally invisible
to us; he does not remain completely
inaccessible. God loved us first, says
the letter of john quoted above (cf.
4:10), and this love of god has appeared
in our midst. He has become visible in as
much as he “has sent his only son into
the world, so that we might live through
him” (1 jn 4:9). God has made himself
visible: in jesus we are able to see the
father (cf. Jn 14:9). Indeed, god is
visible in a number of ways. In the
love-story recounted by the bible, he
comes towards us, he seeks to win our
hearts, all the way to the last supper, to
the piercing of his heart on the cross, to
his appearances after the resurrection and
to the great deeds by which, through the
activity of the apostles, he guided the
nascent church along its path. Nor has
the lord been absent from subsequent
church history: he encounters us ever
anew, in the men and women who reflect his
presence, in his word, in the sacraments,
and especially in the eucharist. In the
church's liturgy, in her prayer, in the
living community of believers, we
experience the love of god, we perceive
his presence and we thus learn to
recognize that presence in our daily
lives. He has loved us first and he
continues to do so; we too, then, can
respond with love. God does not demand of
us a feeling which we ourselves are
incapable of producing. He loves us, he
makes us see and experience his love, and
since he has “loved us first”, love
can also blossom as a response within
us.
In the gradual unfolding of this
encounter, it is clearly revealed that
love is not merely a sentiment.
Sentiments come and go. A sentiment can
be a marvellous first spark, but it is not
the fullness of love. Earlier we spoke of
the process of purification and maturation
by which eros comes fully into its own,
becomes love in the full meaning of the
word. It is characteristic of mature love
that it calls into play all man's
potentialities; it engages the whole man,
so to speak. Contact with the visible
manifestations of god's love can awaken
within us a feeling of joy born of the
experience of being loved. But this
encounter also engages our will and our
intellect. Acknowledgment of the living
god is one path towards love, and the
“yes” of our will to his will unites
our intellect, will and sentiments in the
all- embracing act of love. But this
process is always open-ended; love is
never “finished” and complete;
throughout life, it changes and matures,
and thus remains faithful to itself. Idem
velle atque idem nolle [9]—to want the
same thing, and to reject the same
thing—was recognized by antiquity as the
authentic content of love: the one becomes
similar to the other, and this leads to a
community of will and thought. The
love-story between god and man consists in
the very fact that this communion of will
increases in a communion of thought and
sentiment, and thus our will and god's
will increasingly coincide: god's will is
no longer for me an alien will, something
imposed on me from without by the
commandments, but it is now my own will,
based on the realization that god is in
fact more deeply present to me than I am
to myself.[10] then self- abandonment to
god increases and god becomes our joy (cf.
Ps 73 [72]:23-28).
18. Love of neighbour is thus shown to be
possible in the way proclaimed by the
bible, by jesus. It consists in the very
fact that, in god and with god, I love
even the person whom I do not like or even
know. This can only take place on the
basis of an intimate encounter with god,
an encounter which has become a communion
of will, even affecting my feelings. Then
I learn to look on this other person not
simply with my eyes and my feelings, but
from the perspective of jesus christ. His
friend is my friend. Going beyond
exterior appearances, I perceive in others
an interior desire for a sign of love, of
concern. This I can offer them not only
through the organizations intended for
such purposes, accepting it perhaps as a
political necessity. Seeing with the eyes
of christ, I can give to others much more
than their outward necessities; I can give
them the look of love which they crave.
Here we see the necessary interplay
between love of god and love of neighbour
which the first letter of john speaks of
with such insistence. If I have no
contact whatsoever with god in my life,
then I cannot see in the other anything
more than the other, and I am incapable of
seeing in him the image of god. But if in
my life I fail completely to heed others,
solely out of a desire to be “devout”
and to perform my “religious duties”,
then my relationship with god will also
grow arid. It becomes merely
“proper”, but loveless. Only my
readiness to encounter my neighbour and to
show him love makes me sensitive to god as
well. Only if I serve my neighbour can my
eyes be opened to what god does for me and
how much he loves me. The
saints—consider the example of blessed
teresa of calcutta—constantly renewed
their capacity for love of neighbour from
their encounter with the eucharistic lord,
and conversely this encounter acquired its
real- ism and depth in their service to
others. Love of god and love of neighbour
are thus inseparable, they form a single
commandment. But both live from the love
of god who has loved us first. No longer
is it a question, then, of a
“commandment” imposed from without and
calling for the impossible, but rather of
a freely-bestowed experience of love from
within, a love which by its very nature
must then be shared with others. Love
grows through love. Love is “divine”
because it comes from god and unites us to
god; through this unifying process it
makes us a “we” which transcends our
divisions and makes us one, until in the
end god is “all in all” (1 cor 15:28).
|
Tylanas
Especially EHEALTHy
Joined: 13 Jul 2005 Posts: 12976
Thanks: 3
Thanked:0
Posted: 04-14-06 16:08pm
I don't have a problem with love.
I believe there are three kinds of love:
love for one's family (unconditional,
unbreakable; you might hate them sometimes
but you will always love them), love for
one's friends (just as strong;
comeraderie; being part of a group, your
familiars and peers), and love for one's
life-mate (this one includes physical
attracton and sex, along with cameraderie
and unconditional aspects).
Once I love someone I will never stop
loving them. I will always be there if
they need me, no matter how far away. I
might not always be able to get to them,
but i'm a phone call away.
"god" (or the universal power, or whatever
you want to call it) is everything around
us. Your chair, your desk. Your loved
ones and friends and you yourself are also
part of everything. And when you die, you
are at one with everything again.
Do you step on spiders because they are
icky? Ants? What about bees, scared of
them? I'm not. They are living, alive,
part of the world. You can't "remove"
somthing from the wold; we are like crests
of waves: we look separate but we're still
part of the ocean.
Yet... One must be practical if one can.
Sometimes, you have to eat and there is no
other choice but to catch a fish to
survive. Life doesn't always give you the
option to save everything. You brush your
teeth, you kill bacteria. Heck, you eat and
you kill microorganisms in your stomach
that help you digest.
|
Izzy
Active User, Really EHEALTHy
Joined: 16 Oct 2004 Posts: 883 Location: Earth
Part 2 Posted: 04-14-06 16:34pm
The church's charitable activity as a
manifestation of trinitarian love
19. “if you see charity, you see the
trinity”, wrote saint augustine.[11] in
the foregoing reflections, we have been
able to focus our attention on the pierced
one (cf. Jn 19:37, zech 12:10),
recognizing the plan of the father who,
moved by love (cf. Jn 3:16), sent his
only-begotten son into the world to redeem
man. By dying on the cross—as saint
john tells us—jesus “gave up his
spirit” (jn 19:30), anticipating the
gift of the holy spirit that he would make
after his resurrection (cf. Jn 20:22).
This was to fulfil the promise of
“rivers of living water” that would
flow out of the hearts of believers,
through the outpouring of the spirit (cf.
Jn 7:38-39). The spirit, in fact, is that
interior power which harmonizes their
hearts with christ's heart and moves them
to love their brethren as christ loved
them, when he bent down to wash the feet
of the disciples (cf. Jn 13:1-13) and
above all when he gave his life for us
(cf. Jn 13:1, 15:13).
The spirit is also the energy which
transforms the heart of the ecclesial
community, so that it becomes a witness
before the world to the love of the
father, who wishes to make humanity a
single family in his son. The entire
activity of the church is an expression of
a love that seeks the integral good of
man: it seeks his evangelization through
word and sacrament, an undertaking that is
often heroic in the way it is acted out in
history; and it seeks to promote man in
the various arenas of life and human
activity. Love is therefore the service
that the church carries out in order to
attend constantly to man's sufferings and
his needs, including material needs. And
this is the aspect, this service of
charity, on which I want to focus in the
second part of the post.
Charity as a responsibility of the church
20. Love of neighbour, grounded in the
love of god, is first and foremost a
responsibility for each individual member
of the faithful, but it is also a
responsibility for the entire ecclesial
community at every level: from the local
community to the particular church and to
the church universal in its entirety. As
a community, the church must practise
love. Love thus needs to be organized if
it is to be an ordered service to the
community. The awareness of this
responsibility has had a constitutive
relevance in the church from the
beginning: “all who believed were
together and had all things in common; and
they sold their possessions and goods and
distributed them to all, as any had
need” (acts 2:44-5). In these words,
saint luke provides a kind of definition
of the church, whose constitutive elements
include fidelity to the “teaching of the
apostles”, “communion” (koinonia),
“the breaking of the bread” and
“prayer” (cf. Acts 2:42). The
element of “communion” (koinonia) is
not initially defined, but appears
concretely in the verses quoted above: it
consists in the fact that believers hold
all things in common and that among them,
there is no longer any distinction between
rich and poor (cf. Also acts 4:32-37).
As the church grew, this radical form of
material communion could not in fact be
preserved. But its essential core
remained: within the community of
believers there can never be room for a
poverty that denies anyone what is needed
for a dignified life.
21. A decisive step in the difficult
search for ways of putting this
fundamental ecclesial principle into
practice is illustrated in the choice of
the seven, which marked the origin of the
diaconal office (cf. Acts 6:5-6). In the
early church, in fact, with regard to the
daily distribution to widows, a disparity
had arisen between hebrew speakers and
greek speakers. The apostles, who had
been entrusted primarily with “prayer”
(the eucharist and the liturgy) and the
“ministry of the word”, felt
over-burdened by “serving tables”, so
they decided to reserve to themselves the
principal duty and to designate for the
other task, also necessary in the church,
a group of seven persons. Nor was this
group to carry out a purely mechanical
work of distribution: they were to be men
“full of the spirit and of wisdom”
(cf. Acts 6:1-6). In other words, the
social service which they were meant to
provide was absolutely concrete, yet at
the same time it was also a spiritual
service; theirs was a truly spiritual
office which carried out an essential
responsibility of the church, namely a
well-ordered love of neighbour. With the
formation of this group of seven,
“diaconia”—the ministry of charity
exercised in a communitarian, orderly
way—became part of the fundamental
structure of the church.
22. As the years went by and the church
spread further afield, the exercise of
charity became established as one of her
essential activities, along with the
administration of the sacraments and the
proclamation of the word: love for widows
and orphans, prisoners, and the sick and
needy of every kind, is as essential to
her as the ministry of the sacraments and
preaching of the gospel. The church
cannot neglect the service of charity any
more than she can neglect the sacraments
and the word. A few references will
suffice to demonstrate this. Justin
martyr († c. 155) in speaking of the
christians' celebration of sunday, also
mentions their charitable activity, linked
with the eucharist as such. Those who are
able make offerings in accordance with
their means, each as he or she wishes; the
bishop in turn makes use of these to
support orphans, widows, the sick and
those who for other reasons find
themselves in need, such as prisoners and
foreigners.[12] the great christian writer
tertullian († after 220) relates how the
pagans were struck by the christians'
concern for the needy of every sort.[13]
and when ignatius of antioch († c. 117)
described the church of rome as
“presiding in charity (agape)”,[14] we
may assume that with this definition he
also intended in some sense to express her
concrete charitable activity.
23. Here it might be helpful to allude to
the earliest legal structures associated
with the service of charity in the church.
Towards the middle of the fourth century
we see the development in egypt of the
“diaconia”: the institution within
each monastery responsible for all works
of relief, that is to say, for the service
of charity. By the sixth century this
institution had evolved into a corporation
with full juridical standing, which the
civil authorities themselves entrusted
with part of the grain for public
distribution. In egypt not only each
monastery, but each individual diocese
eventually had its own diaconia; this
institution then developed in both east
and west. Pope gregory the great (†
604) mentions the diaconia of naples,
while in rome the diaconiae are documented
from the seventh and eighth centuries.
But charitable activity on behalf of the
poor and suffering was naturally an
essential part of the church of rome from
the very beginning, based on the
principles of christian life given in the
acts of the apostles. It found a vivid
expression in the case of the deacon
lawrence († 258). The dramatic
description of lawrence's martyrdom was
known to saint ambrose († 397) and it
provides a fundamentally authentic picture
of the saint. As the one responsible for
the care of the poor in rome, lawrence had
been given a period of time, after the
capture of the pope and of lawrence's
fellow deacons, to collect the treasures
of the church and hand them over to the
civil authorities. He distributed to the
poor whatever funds were available and
then presented to the authorities the poor
themselves as the real treasure of the
church.[15] whatever historical
reliability one attributes to these
details, lawrence has always remained
present in the church's memory as a great
exponent of ecclesial charity.
24. A mention of the emperor julian the
apostate († 363) can also show how
essential the early church considered the
organized practice of charity. As a child
of six years, julian witnessed the
assassination of his father, brother and
other family members by the guards of the
imperial palace; rightly or wrongly, he
blamed this brutal act on the emperor
constantius, who passed himself off as an
outstanding christian. The christian
faith was thus definitively discredited in
his eyes. Upon becoming emperor, julian
decided to restore paganism, the ancient
roman religion, while reforming it in the
hope of making it the driving force behind
the empire. In this project he was amply
inspired by christianity. He established
a hierarchy of metropolitans and priests
who were to foster love of god and
neighbour. In one of his letters,[16] he
wrote that the sole aspect of christianity
which had impressed him was the church's
charitable activity. He thus considered
it essential for his new pagan religion
that, alongside the system of the church's
charity, an equivalent activity of its own
be established. According to him, this
was the reason for the popularity of the
“galileans”. They needed now to be
imitated and outdone. In this way, then,
the emperor confirmed that charity was a
decisive feature of the christian
community, the church.
25. Thus far, two essential facts have
emerged from our reflections:
a) the church's deepest nature is
expressed in her three-fold
responsibility: of proclaiming the word of
god (kerygma-martyria), celebrating the
sacraments (leitourgia), and exercising
the ministry of charity (diakonia). These
duties presuppose each other and are
inseparable. For the church, charity is
not a kind of welfare activity which could
equally well be left to others, but is a
part of her nature, an indispensable
expression of her very being.[17]
b) the church is god's family in the
world. In this family no one ought to go
without the necessities of life. Yet at
the same time caritas- agape extends
beyond the frontiers of the church. The
parable of the good samaritan remains as a
standard which imposes universal love
towards the needy whom we encounter “by
chance” (cf. Lk 10:31), whoever they
may be. Without in any way detracting
from this commandment of universal love,
the church also has a specific
responsibility: within the ecclesial
family no member should suffer through
being in need. The teaching of the letter
to the galatians is emphatic: “so then,
as we have opportunity, let us do good to
all, and especially to those who are of
the household of faith” (6:10).
Justice and charity
26. Since the nineteenth century, an
objection has been raised to the church's
charitable activity, subsequently
developed with particular insistence by
marxism: the poor, it is claimed, do not
need charity but justice. Works of
charity—almsgiving—are in effect a way
for the rich to shirk their obligation to
work for justice and a means of soothing
their consciences, while preserving their
own status and robbing the poor of their
rights. Instead of contributing through
individual works of charity to maintaining
the status quo, we need to build a just
social order in which all receive their
share of the world's goods and no longer
have to depend on charity. There is
admittedly some truth to this argument,
but also much that is mistaken. It is
true that the pursuit of justice must be a
fundamental norm of the state and that the
aim of a just social order is to guarantee
to each person, according to the principle
of subsidiarity, his share of the
community's goods. This has always been
emphasized by christian teaching on the
state and by the church's social doctrine.
Historically, the issue of the just
ordering of the collectivity had taken a
new dimension with the industrialization
of society in the nineteenth century. The
rise of modern industry caused the old
social structures to collapse, while the
growth of a class of salaried workers
provoked radical changes in the fabric of
society. The relationship between capital
and labour now became the decisive
issue—an issue which in that form was
previously unknown. Capital and the means
of production were now the new source of
power which, concentrated in the hands of
a few, led to the suppression of the
rights of the working classes, against
which they had to rebel.
27. It must be admitted that the church's
leadership was slow to realize that the
issue of the just structuring of society
needed to be approached in a new way.
There were some pioneers, such as bishop
ketteler of mainz († 1877), and concrete
needs were met by a growing number of
groups, associations, leagues, federations
and, in particular, by the new religious
orders founded in the nineteenth century
to combat poverty, disease and the need
for better education. In 1891, the papal
magisterium intervened with the encyclical
rerum novarum of leo xiii. This was
followed in 1931 by pius xi's encyclical
quadragesimo anno. In 1961 blessed john
xxiii published the encyclical mater et
magistra, while paul vi, in the encyclical
populorum progressio (1967) and in the
apostolic letter octogesima adveniens
(1971), insistently addressed the social
problem, which had meanwhile become
especially acute in latin america. John
paul ii left us a trilogy of social
encyclicals: laborem exercens (1981),
sollicitudo rei socialis (1987) and
finally centesimus annus (1991). Faced
with new situations and issues, catholic
social teaching thus gradually developed,
and has now found a comprehensive
presentation in the compendium of the
social doctrine of the church published in
2004 by the pontifical council iustitia et
pax. Marxism had seen world revolution
and its preliminaries as the panacea for
the social problem: revolution and the
subsequent collectivization of the means
of production, so it was claimed, would
immediately change things for the better.
This illusion has vanished. In today's
complex situation, not least because of
the growth of a globalized economy, the
church's social doctrine has become a set
of fundamental guidelines offering
approaches that are valid even beyond the
confines of the church: in the face of
ongoing development these guidelines need
to be addressed in the context of dialogue
with all those seriously concerned for
humanity and for the world in which we
live.
28. In order to define more accurately
the relationship between the necessary
commitment to justice and the ministry of
charity, two fundamental situations need
to be considered:
a) the just ordering of society and the
state is a central responsibility of
politics. As augustine once said, a state
which is not governed according to justice
would be just a bunch of thieves:
“remota itaque iustitia quid sunt regna
nisi magna latrocinia?”.[18] fundamental
to christianity is the distinction between
what belongs to caesar and what belongs to
god (cf. Mt 22:21), in other words, the
distinction between church and state, or,
as the second vatican council puts it, the
autonomy of the temporal sphere.[19] the
state may not impose religion, yet it must
guarantee religious freedom and harmony
between the followers of different
religions. For her part, the church, as
the social expression of christian faith,
has a proper independence and is
structured on the basis of her faith as a
community which the state must recognize.
The two spheres are distinct, yet always
interrelated.
Justice is both the aim and the intrinsic
criterion of all politics. Politics is
more than a mere mechanism for defining
the rules of public life: its origin and
its goal are found in justice, which by
its very nature has to do with ethics.
The state must inevitably face the
question of how justice can be achieved
here and now. But this presupposes an
even more radical question: what is
justice? The problem is one of practical
reason; but if reason is to be exercised
properly, it must undergo constant
purification, since it can never be
completely free of the danger of a certain
ethical blindness caused by the dazzling
effect of power and special interests.
Here politics and faith meet. Faith by
its specific nature is an encounter with
the living god—an encounter opening up
new horizons extending beyond the sphere
of reason. But it is also a purifying
force for reason itself. From god's
standpoint, faith liberates reason from
its blind spots and therefore helps it to
be ever more fully itself. Faith enables
reason to do its work more effectively and
to see its proper object more clearly.
This is where catholic social doctrine has
its place: it has no intention of giving
the church power over the state. Even
less is it an attempt to impose on those
who do not share the faith ways of
thinking and modes of conduct proper to
faith. Its aim is simply to help purify
reason and to contribute, here and now, to
the acknowledgment and attainment of what
is just.
The church's social teaching argues on the
basis of reason and natural law, namely,
on the basis of what is in accord with the
nature of every human being. It
recognizes that it is not the church's
responsibility to make this teaching
prevail in political life. Rather, the
church wishes to help form consciences in
political life and to stimulate greater
insight into the authentic requirements of
justice as well as greater readiness to
act accordingly, even when this might
involve conflict with situations of
personal interest. Building a just social
and civil order, wherein each person
receives what is his or her due, is an
essential task which every generation must
take up anew. As a political task, this
cannot be the church's immediate
responsibility. Yet, since it is also a
most important human responsibility, the
church is duty-bound to offer, through the
purification of reason and through ethical
formation, her own specific contribution
towards understanding the requirements of
justice and achieving them politically.
The church cannot and must not take upon
herself the political battle to bring
about the most just society possible. She
cannot and must not replace the state.
Yet at the same time she cannot and must
not remain on the sidelines in the fight
for justice. She has to play her part
through rational argument and she has to
reawaken the spiritual energy without
which justice, which always demands
sacrifice, cannot prevail and prosper. A
just society must be the achievement of
politics, not of the church. Yet the
promotion of justice through efforts to
bring about openness of mind and will to
the demands of the common good is
something which concerns the church
deeply.
B) love—caritas—will always prove
necessary, even in the most just society.
There is no ordering of the state so just
that it can eliminate the need for a
service of love. Whoever wants to
eliminate love is preparing to eliminate
man as such. There will always be
suffering which cries out for consolation
and help. There will always be
loneliness. There will always be
situations of material need where help in
the form of concrete love of neighbour is
indispensable.[20] the state which would
provide everything, absorbing everything
into itself, would ultimately become a
mere bureaucracy incapable of guaranteeing
the very thing which the suffering
person—every person—needs: namely,
loving personal concern. We do not need a
state which regulates and controls
everything, but a state which, in
accordance with the principle of
subsidiarity, generously acknowledges and
supports initiatives arising from the
different social forces and combines
spontaneity with closeness to those in
need. The church is one of those living
forces: she is alive with the love
enkindled by the spirit of christ. This
love does not simply offer people material
help, but refreshment and care for their
souls, something which often is even more
necessary than material support. In the
end, the claim that just social structures
would make works of charity superfluous
masks a materialist conception of man: the
mistaken notion that man can live “by
bread alone” (mt 4:4; cf. Dt 8:3)—a
conviction that demeans man and ultimately
disregards all that is specifically
human.
29. We can now determine more precisely,
in the life of the church, the
relationship between commitment to the
just ordering of the state and society on
the one hand, and organized charitable
activity on the other. We have seen that
the formation of just structures is not
directly the duty of the church, but
belongs to the world of politics, the
sphere of the autonomous use of reason.
The church has an indirect duty here, in
that she is called to contribute to the
purification of reason and to the
reawakening of those moral forces without
which just structures are neither
established nor prove effective in the
long run.
The direct duty to work for a just
ordering of society, on the other hand, is
proper to the lay faithful. As citizens
of the state, they are called to take part
in public life in a personal capacity. So
they cannot relinquish their participation
“in the many different economic, social,
legislative, administrative and cultural
areas, which are intended to promote
organically and institutionally the common
good.” [21] the mission of the lay
faithful is therefore to configure social
life correctly, respecting its legitimate
autonomy and cooperating with other
citizens according to their respective
competences and fulfilling their own
responsibility.[22] even if the specific
expressions of ecclesial charity can never
be confused with the activity of the
state, it still remains true that charity
must animate the entire lives of the lay
faithful and therefore also their
political activity, lived as “social
charity”.[23]
the church's charitable organizations, on
the other hand, constitute an opus
proprium, a task agreeable to her, in
which she does not cooperate collaterally,
but acts as a subject with direct
responsibility, doing what corresponds to
her nature. The church can never be
exempted from practising charity as an
organized activity of believers, and on
the other hand, there will never be a
situation where the charity of each
individual christian is unnecessary,
because in addition to justice man needs,
and will always need, love.
The multiple structures of charitable
service in the social context of the
present day
30. Before attempting to define the
specific profile of the church's
activities in the service of man, I now
wish to consider the overall situation of
the struggle for justice and love in the
world of today.
A) today the means of mass communication
have made our planet smaller, rapidly
narrowing the distance between different
peoples and cultures. This
“togetherness” at times gives rise to
misunderstandings and tensions, yet our
ability to know almost instantly about the
needs of others challenges us to share
their situation and their difficulties.
Despite the great advances made in science
and technology, each day we see how much
suffering there is in the world on account
of different kinds of poverty, both
material and spiritual. Our times call
for a new readiness to assist our
neighbours in need. The second vatican
council had made this point very clearly:
“now that, through better means of
communication, distances between peoples
have been almost eliminated, charitable
activity can and should embrace all people
and all needs.”[24]
on the other hand—and here we see one of
the challenging yet also positive sides of
the process of globalization—we now have
at our disposal numerous means for
offering humanitarian assistance to our
brothers and sisters in need, not least
modern systems of distributing food and
clothing, and of providing housing and
care. Concern for our neighbour
transcends the confines of national
communities and has increasingly broadened
its horizon to the whole world. The
second vatican council rightly observed
that “among the signs of our times, one
particularly worthy of note is a growing,
inescapable sense of solidarity between
all peoples.”[25] state agencies and
humanitarian associations work to promote
this, the former mainly through subsidies
or tax relief, the latter by making
available considerable resources. The
solidarity shown by civil society thus
significantly surpasses that shown by
individuals.
B) this situation has led to the birth and
the growth of many forms of cooperation
between state and church agencies, which
have borne fruit. Church agencies, with
their transparent operation and their
faithfulness to the duty of witnessing to
love, are able to give a christian quality
to the civil agencies too, favouring a
mutual coordination that can only redound
to the effectiveness of charitable
service.[26] numerous organizations for
charitable or philanthropic purposes have
also been established and these are
committed to achieving adequate
humanitarian solutions to the social and
political problems of the day.
Significantly, our time has also seen the
growth and spread of different kinds of
volunteer work, which assume
responsibility for providing a variety of
services.[27] I wish here to offer a
special word of gratitude and appreciation
to all those who take part in these
activities in whatever way. For young
people, this widespread involvement
constitutes a school of life which offers
them a formation in solidarity and in
readiness to offer others not simply
material aid but their very selves. The
anti-culture of death, which finds
expression for example in drug use, is
thus countered by an unselfish love which
shows itself to be a culture of life by
the very willingness to “lose itself”
(cf. Lk 17:33 et passim) for others.
In the catholic church, and also in the
other churches and ecclesial communities,
new forms of charitable activity have
arisen, while other, older ones have taken
on new life and energy. In these new
forms, it is often possible to establish a
fruitful link between evangelization and
works of charity. Here I would clearly
reaffirm what john paul ii wrote in his
encyclical sollicitudo rei socialis [28]
when he asserted the readiness of the
catholic church to cooperate with the
charitable agencies of these churches and
communities, since we all have the same
fundamental motivation and look towards
the same goal: a true humanism, which
acknowledges that man is made in the image
of god and wants to help him to live in a
way consonant with that dignity. His
encyclical ut unum sint emphasized that
the building of a better world requires
christians to speak with a united voice in
working to inculcate “respect for the
rights and needs of everyone, especially
the poor, the lowly and the
defenceless.” [29] here I would like to
express my satisfaction that this appeal
has found a wide resonance in numerous
initiatives throughout the world.
The distinctiveness of the church's
charitable activity
31. The increase in diversified
organizations engaged in meeting various
human needs is ultimately due to the fact
that the command of love of neighbour is
inscribed by the creator in man's very
nature. It is also a result of the
presence of christianity in the world,
since christianity constantly revives and
acts out this imperative, so often
profoundly obscured in the course of time.
The reform of paganism attempted by the
emperor julian the apostate is only an
initial example of this effect; here we
see how the power of christianity spread
well beyond the frontiers of the christian
faith. For this reason, it is very
important that the church's charitable
activity maintains all of its splendour
and does not become just another form of
social assistance. So what are the
essential elements of christian and
ecclesial charity?
A) following the example given in the
parable of the good samaritan, christian
charity is first of all the simple
response to immediate needs and specific
situations: feeding the hungry, clothing
the naked, caring for and healing the
sick, visiting those in prison, etc. The
church's charitable organizations,
beginning with those of caritas (at
diocesan, national and international
levels), ought to do everything in their
power to provide the resources and above
all the personnel needed for this work.
Individuals who care for those in need
must first be professionally competent:
they should be properly trained in what to
do and how to do it, and committed to
continuing care. Yet, while professional
competence is a primary, fundamental
requirement, it is not of itself
sufficient. We are dealing with human
beings, and human beings always need
something more than technically proper
care. They need humanity. They need
heartfelt concern. Those who work for the
church's charitable organizations must be
distinguished by the fact that they do not
merely meet the needs of the moment, but
they dedicate themselves to others with
heartfelt concern, enabling them to
experience the richness of their humanity.
Consequently, in addition to their
necessary professional training, these
charity workers need a “formation of the
heart”: they need to be led to that
encounter with god in christ which awakens
their love and opens their spirits to
others. As a result, love of neighbour
will no longer be for them a commandment
imposed, so to speak, from without, but a
consequence deriving from their faith, a
faith which becomes active through love
(cf. Gal 5:6).
B) christian charitable activity must be
independent of parties and ideologies. It
is not a means of changing the world
ideologically, and it is not at the
service of worldly stratagems, but it is a
way of making present here and now the
love which man always needs. The modern
age, particularly from the nineteenth
century on, has been dominated by various
versions of a philosophy of progress whose
most radical form is marxism. Part of
marxist strategy is the theory of
impoverishment: in a situation of unjust
power, it is claimed, anyone who engages
in charitable initiatives is actually
serving that unjust system, making it
appear at least to some extent tolerable.
This in turn slows down a potential
revolution and thus blocks the struggle
for a better world. Seen in this way,
charity is rejected and attacked as a
means of preserving the status quo. What
we have here, though, is really an inhuman
philosophy. People of the present are
sacrificed to the moloch of the future—a
future whose effective realization is at
best doubtful. One does not make the
world more human by refusing to act
humanely here and now. We contribute to a
better world only by personally doing good
now, with full commitment and wherever we
have the opportunity, independently of
partisan strategies and programmes. The
christian's programme —the programme of
the good samaritan, the programme of
jesus—is “a heart which sees”. This
heart sees where love is needed and acts
accordingly. Obviously when charitable
activity is carried out by the church as a
communitarian initiative, the spontaneity
of individuals must be combined with
planning, foresight and cooperation with
other similar institutions.
C) charity, furthermore, cannot be used as
a means of engaging in what is nowadays
considered proselytism. Love is free; it
is not practised as a way of achieving
other ends.[30] but this does not mean
that charitable activity must somehow
leave god and christ aside. For it is
always concerned with the whole man.
Often the deepest cause of suffering is
the very absence of god. Those who
practise charity in the church's name will
never seek to impose the church's faith
upon others. They realize that a pure and
generous love is the best witness to the
god in whom we believe and by whom we are
driven to love. A christian knows when it
is time to speak of god and when it is
better to say nothing and to let love
alone speak. He knows that god is love
(cf. 1 jn 4:8) and that god's presence is
felt at the very time when the only thing
we do is to love. He knows—to return to
the questions raised earlier—that
disdain for love is disdain for god and
man alike; it is an attempt to do without
god. Consequently, the best defence of
god and man consists precisely in love.
It is the responsibility of the church's
charitable organizations to reinforce this
awareness in their members, so that by
their activity—as well as their words,
their silence, their example—they may be
credible witnesses to christ.
Those responsible for the church's
charitable activity
32. Finally, we must turn our attention
once again to those who are responsible
for carrying out the church's charitable
activity. As our preceding reflections
have made clear, the true subject of the
various catholic organizations that carry
out a ministry of charity is the church
herself—at all levels, from the
parishes, through the particular churches,
to the universal church. For this reason
it was most opportune that my venerable
predecessor paul vi established the
pontifical council cor unum as the agency
of the holy see responsible for orienting
and coordinating the organizations and
charitable activities promoted by the
catholic church. In conformity with the
episcopal structure of the church, the
bishops, as successors of the apostles,
are charged with primary responsibility
for carrying out in the particular
churches the programme set forth in the
acts of the apostles (cf. 2:42-44): today
as in the past, the church as god's family
must be a place where help is given and
received, and at the same time, a place
where people are also prepared to serve
those outside her confines who are in need
of help. In the rite of episcopal
ordination, prior to the act of
consecration itself, the candidate must
respond to several questions which express
the essential elements of his office and
recall the duties of his future ministry.
He promises expressly to be, in the lord's
name, welcoming and merciful to the poor
and to all those in need of consolation
and assistance.[31] the code of canon law,
in the canons on the ministry of the
bishop, does not expressly mention charity
as a specific sector of episcopal
activity, but speaks in general terms of
the bishop's responsibility for
coordinating the different works of the
apostolate with due regard for their
proper character.[32] recently, however,
the directory for the pastoral ministry of
bishops explored more specifically the
duty of charity as a responsibility
incumbent upon the whole church and upon
each bishop in his diocese,[33] and it
emphasized that the exercise of charity is
an action of the church as such, and that,
like the ministry of word and sacrament,
it too has been an essential part of her
mission from the very beginning.[34]
33. With regard to the personnel who
carry out the church's charitable activity
on the practical level, the essential has
already been said: they must not be
inspired by ideologies aimed at improving
the world, but should rather be guided by
the faith which works through love (cf.
Gal 5:6). Consequently, more than
anything, they must be persons moved by
christ's love, persons whose hearts christ
has conquered with his love, awakening
within them a love of neighbour. The
criterion inspiring their activity should
be saint paul's statement in the second
letter to the corinthians: “the love of
christ urges us on” (5:14). The
consciousness that, in christ, god has
given himself for us, even unto death,
must inspire us to live no longer for
ourselves but for him, and, with him, for
others. Whoever loves christ loves the
church, and desires the church to be
increasingly the image and instrument of
the love which flows from christ. The
personnel of every catholic charitable
organization want to work with the church
and therefore with the bishop, so that the
love of god can spread throughout the
world. By their sharing in the church's
practice of love, they wish to be
witnesses of god and of christ, and they
wish for this very reason freely to do
good to all.
34. Interior openness to the catholic
dimension of the church cannot fail to
dispose charity workers to work in harmony
with other organizations in serving
various forms of need, but in a way that
respects what is distinctive about the
service which christ requested of his
disciples. Saint paul, in his hymn to
charity (cf. 1 cor 13), teaches us that
it is always more than activity alone:
“if I give away all I have, and if I
deliver my body to be burned, but do not
have love, I gain nothing” (v. 3).
This hymn must be the magna carta of all
ecclesial service; it sums up all the
reflections on love which I have offered
throughout this post. Practical activity
will always be insufficient, unless it
visibly expresses a love for man, a love
nourished by an encounter with christ. My
deep personal sharing in the needs and
sufferings of others becomes a sharing of
my very self with them: if my gift is not
to prove a source of humiliation, I must
give to others not only something that is
my own, but my very self; I must be
personally present in my gift.
35. This proper way of serving others
also leads to humility. The one who
serves does not consider himself superior
to the one served, however miserable his
situation at the moment may be. Christ
took the lowest place in the world—the
cross—and by this radical humility he
redeemed us and constantly comes to our
aid. Those who are in a position to help
others will realize that in doing so they
themselves receive help; being able to
help others is no merit or achievement of
their own. This duty is a grace. The
more we do for others, the more we
understand and can appropriate the words
of christ: “we are useless servants”
(lk 17:10). We recognize that we are not
acting on the basis of any superiority or
greater personal efficiency, but because
the lord has graciously enabled us to do
so. There are times when the burden of
need and our own limitations might tempt
us to become discouraged. But precisely
then we are helped by the knowledge that,
in the end, we are only instruments in the
lord's hands; and this knowledge frees us
from the presumption of thinking that we
alone are personally responsible for
building a better world. In all humility
we will do what we can, and in all
humility we will entrust the rest to the
lord. It is god who governs the world,
not we. We offer him our service only to
the extent that we can, and for as long as
he grants us the strength. To do all we
can with what strength we have, however,
is the task which keeps the good servant
of jesus christ always at work: “the
love of christ urges us on” (2 cor
5:14).
36. When we consider the immensity of
others' needs, we can, on the one hand, be
driven towards an ideology that would aim
at doing what god's governance of the
world apparently cannot: fully resolving
every problem. Or we can be tempted to
give in to inertia, since it would seem
that in any event nothing can be
accomplished. At such times, a living
relationship with christ is decisive if we
are to keep on the right path, without
falling into an arrogant contempt for man,
something not only unconstructive but
actually destructive, or surrendering to a
resignation which would prevent us from
being guided by love in the service of
others. Prayer, as a means of drawing
ever new strength from christ, is
concretely and urgently needed. People
who pray are not wasting their time, even
though the situation appears desperate and
seems to call for action alone. Piety
does not undermine the struggle against
the poverty of our neighbours, however
extreme. In the example of blessed teresa
of calcutta we have a clear illustration
of the fact that time devoted to god in
prayer not only does not detract from
effective and loving service to our
neighbour but is in fact the inexhaustible
source of that service. In her letter for
lent 1996, blessed teresa wrote to her lay
co-workers: “we need this deep
connection with god in our daily life.
How can we obtain it? By prayer”.
37. It is time to reaffirm the importance
of prayer in the face of the activism and
the growing secularism of many christians
engaged in charitable work. Clearly, the
christian who prays does not claim to be
able to change god's plans or correct what
he has foreseen. Rather, he seeks an
encounter with the father of jesus christ,
asking god to be present with the
consolation of the spirit to him and his
work. A personal relationship with god
and an abandonment to his will can prevent
man from being demeaned and save him from
falling prey to the teaching of fanaticism
and terrorism. An authentically religious
attitude prevents man from presuming to
judge god, accusing him of allowing
poverty and failing to have compassion for
his creatures. When people claim to build
a case against god in defence of man, on
whom can they depend when human activity
proves powerless?
38. Certainly job could complain before
god about the presence of incomprehensible
and apparently unjustified suffering in
the world. In his pain he cried out:
“oh, that I knew where I might find him,
that I might come even to his seat! ...
I would learn what he would answer me, and
understand what he would say to me. Would
he contend with me in the greatness of his
power? ... Therefore I am terrified at
his presence; when I consider, I am in
dread of him. God has made my heart
faint; the almighty has terrified me”
(23:3, 5-6, 15-16). Often we cannot
understand why god refrains from
intervening. Yet he does not prevent us
from crying out, like jesus on the cross:
“my god, my god, why have you forsaken
me?” (mt 27:46). We should continue
asking this question in prayerful dialogue
before his face: “lord, holy and true,
how long will it be?” (rev 6:10). It is
saint augustine who gives us faith's
answer to our sufferings: “si
comprehendis, non est deus”—”if you
understand him, he is not god.” [35] our
protest is not meant to challenge god, or
to suggest that error, weakness or
indifference can be found in him. For the
believer, it is impossible to imagine that
god is powerless or that “perhaps he is
asleep” (cf. 1 kg 18:27). Instead, our
crying out is, as it was for jesus on the
cross, the deepest and most radical way of
affirming our faith in his sovereign
power. Even in their bewilderment and
failure to understand the world around
them, christians continue to believe in
the “goodness and loving kindness of
god” (tit 3:4). Immersed like everyone
else in the dramatic complexity of
historical events, they remain unshakably
certain that god is our father and loves
us, even when his silence remains
incomprehensible.
39. Faith, hope and charity go together.
Hope is practised through the virtue of
patience, which continues to do good even
in the face of apparent failure, and
through the virtue of humility, which
accepts god's mystery and trusts him even
at times of darkness. Faith tells us that
god has given his son for our sakes and
gives us the victorious certainty that it
is really true: god is love! It thus
transforms our impatience and our doubts
into the sure hope that god holds the
world in his hands and that, as the
dramatic imagery of the end of the book of
revelation points out, in spite of all
darkness he ultimately triumphs in glory.
Faith, which sees the love of god revealed
in the pierced heart of jesus on the
cross, gives rise to love. Love is the
light—and in the end, the only
light—that can always illuminate a world
grown dim and give us the courage needed
to keep living and working. Love is
possible, and we are able to practise it
because we are created in the image of
god. To experience love and in this way
to cause the light of god to enter into
the world—this is the invitation I would
like to extend .
|
Izzy
Active User, Really EHEALTHy
Joined: 16 Oct 2004 Posts: 883 Location: Earth
Conclusion Posted: 04-14-06 16:45pm
40. Finally, let us consider the saints,
who exercised charity in an exemplary way.
Our thoughts turn especially to martin of
tours († 397), the soldier who became a
monk and a bishop: he is almost like an
icon, illustrating the irreplaceable value
of the individual testimony to charity.
At the gates of amiens, martin gave half
of his cloak to a poor man: jesus himself,
that night, appeared to him in a dream
wearing that cloak, confirming the
permanent validity of the gospel saying:
“i was naked and you clothed me ... As
you did it to one of the least of these my
brethren, you did it to me” (mt 25:36,
40).[36] yet in the history of the church,
how many other testimonies to charity
could be quoted! In particular, the
entire monastic movement, from its origins
with saint anthony the abbot († 356),
expresses an immense service of charity
towards neighbour. In his encounter
“face to face” with the god who is
love, the monk senses the impelling need
to transform his whole life into service
of neighbour, in addition to service of
god. This explains the great emphasis on
hospitality, refuge and care of the infirm
in the vicinity of the monasteries. It
also explains the immense initiatives of
human welfare and christian formation,
aimed above all at the very poor, who
became the object of care firstly for the
monastic and mendicant orders, and later
for the various male and female religious
institutes all through the history of the
church. The figures of saints such as
francis of assisi, ignatius of loyola,
john of god, camillus of lellis, vincent
de paul, louise de marillac, giuseppe b.
Cottolengo, john bosco, luigi orione,
teresa of calcutta to name but a
few—stand out as lasting models of
social charity for all people of good
will. The saints are the true bearers of
light within history, for they are men and
women of faith, hope and love.
41. Outstanding among the saints is mary,
mother of the lord and mirror of all
holiness. In the gospel of luke we find
her engaged in a service of charity to her
cousin elizabeth, with whom she remained
for “about three months” (1:56) so as
to assist her in the final phase of her
pregnancy. “magnificat anima mea
dominum”, she says on the occasion of
that visit, “my soul magnifies the
lord” (lk 1:46). In these words she
expresses her whole programme of life: not
setting herself at the centre, but leaving
space for god, who is encountered both in
prayer and in service of neighbour—only
then does goodness enter the world.
Mary's greatness consists in the fact that
she wants to magnify god, not herself.
She is lowly: her only desire is to be the
handmaid of the lord (cf. Lk 1:38, 48).
She knows that she will only contribute to
the salvation of the world if, rather than
carrying out her own projects, she places
herself completely at the disposal of
god's initiatives. Mary is a woman of
hope: only because she believes in god's
promises and awaits the salvation of
israel, can the angel visit her and call
her to the decisive service of these
promises. Mary is a woman of faith:
“blessed are you who believed”,
elizabeth says to her (cf. Lk 1:45). The
magnificat—a portrait, so to speak, of
her soul—is entirely woven from threads
of holy scripture, threads drawn from the
word of god. Here we see how completely
at home mary is with the word of god, with
ease she moves in and out of it. She
speaks and thinks with the word of god;
the word of god becomes her word, and her
word issues from the word of god. Here we
see how her thoughts are attuned to the
thoughts of god, how her will is one with
the will of god. Since mary is completely
imbued with the word of god, she is able
to become the mother of the word
incarnate. Finally, mary is a woman who
loves. How could it be otherwise? As a
believer who in faith thinks with god's
thoughts and wills with god's will, she
cannot fail to be a woman who loves. We
sense this in her quiet gestures, as
recounted by the infancy narratives in the
gospel. We see it in the delicacy with
which she recognizes the need of the
spouses at cana and makes it known to
jesus. We see it in the humility with
which she recedes into the background
during jesus' public life, knowing that
the son must establish a new family and
that the mother's hour will come only with
the cross, which will be jesus' true hour
(cf. Jn 2:4; 13:1). When the disciples
flee, mary will remain beneath the cross
(cf. Jn 19:25-27); later, at the hour of
pentecost, it will be they who gather
around her as they wait for the holy
spirit (cf. Acts 1:14).
42. The lives of the saints are not
limited to their earthly biographies but
also include their being and working in
god after death. In the saints one thing
becomes clear: those who draw near to god
do not withdraw from men, but rather
become truly close to them. In no one do
we see this more clearly than in mary.
The words addressed by the crucified lord
to his disciple—to john and through him
to all disciples of jesus: “behold, your
mother!” (jn 19:27)—are fulfilled anew
in every generation. Mary has truly
become the mother of all believers. Men
and women of every time and place have
recourse to her motherly kindness and her
virginal purity and grace, in all their
needs and aspirations, their joys and
sorrows, their moments of loneliness and
their common endeavours. They constantly
experience the gift of her goodness and
the unfailing love which she pours out
from the depths of her heart. The
testimonials of gratitude, offered to her
from every continent and culture, are a
recognition of that pure love which is not
self- seeking but simply benevolent. At
the same time, the devotion of the
faithful shows an infallible intuition of
how such love is possible: it becomes so
as a result of the most intimate union
with god, through which the soul is
totally pervaded by him—a condition
which enables those who have drunk from
the fountain of god's love to become in
their turn a fountain from which “flow
rivers of living water” (jn 7:38).
Mary, virgin and mother, shows us what
love is and whence it draws its origin and
its constantly renewed power. To her we
entrust the church and her mission in the
service of love:
holy mary, mother of god,
you have given the world its true light,
jesus, your son – the son of god.
You abandoned yourself completely
to god's call
and thus became a wellspring
of the goodness which flows forth from
him.
Show us jesus. Lead us to him.
Teach us to know and love him,
so that we too can become
capable of true love
and be fountains of living water
in the midst of a thirsting world.
Amen.
Benedictus pp. Xvi
may our love for each other and humanity
reveal to us the true and living god.
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Tylanas
Especially EHEALTHy
Joined: 13 Jul 2005 Posts: 12976
Thanks: 3
Thanked:0
Posted: 04-14-06 16:46pm
That's nice. But if someone isn't
christian, then you cannot use our own
beliefs to cause a law that prevents
someone from having control over their own
body, and that's final.
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Izzy
Active User, Really EHEALTHy
Joined: 16 Oct 2004 Posts: 883 Location: Earth
Posted: 04-14-06 16:59pm
I believe in humanity...I believe in you
erie.... Thats the whole point and I
will continue to believe in you, even if
you continue to nail me and my fellow
human beings to a tree.
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Tylanas
Especially EHEALTHy
Joined: 13 Jul 2005 Posts: 12976
Thanks: 3
Thanked:0
Posted: 04-14-06 17:01pm
izzy
wrote:
i believe in humanity...I
believe in you erie.... Thats the whole
point and I will continue to believe in
you, even if you continue to nail me and
my fellow human beings to a
tree.
*laugh* oh, sorry... But son, buddhists
would never even think of nailing someone
to a tree (or a cross for that matter).
It's not our style. We believe in peace
for all. Buddha didn't die for our sins,
he just died, an old man and a great
teacher.
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Izzy
Active User, Really EHEALTHy
Joined: 16 Oct 2004 Posts: 883 Location: Earth
Posted: 04-14-06 17:09pm
You nailing me and my fellow human beings
to the tree represents 3 things
1. The slap in the face you give me when
I extend a loving embrce
2. The actual promotion of the physical
death of the unborn child
3. Your disregard for the christian
message of love for humanity as a whole
through christ.
Despite everything, I continue to believe
in you, I know you are a good person.
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Tylanas
Especially EHEALTHy
Joined: 13 Jul 2005 Posts: 12976
Thanks: 3
Thanked:0
Posted: 04-14-06 17:17pm
izzy
wrote:
you nailing me and my fellow
human beings to the tree represents 3
things
1. The slap in the face you give me when
I extend a loving embrce
2. The actual promotion of the physical
death of the unborn child
3. Your disregard for the christian
message of love for humanity as a whole
through christ.
Despite everything, I continue to believe
in you, I know you are a good
person.
i'm not disregarding your message, i'm
agreeing with it by posting my own. I'm
not promoting abortion; I don't think
anyone should have an abortion unless they
feel they need to. And your loving
embrace irritates me because you keep
saying you want me to be "saved" by jesus,
and I frankly find it insulting.