Pope Francis' first general audience
Yesterday morning, the newly elected Pope Francis gave his first general audience in St. Peter's Square. His subject was "Holy Week challenges us to step outside of ourselves" and after I read the audience (in English translation), there were a lot of comments and questions on my mind, in terms of both Pope Francis' theology and his pastoral ministry.
The first obvious theme running through the whole audience is the need for Christian people (and indeed, all people) to help the poor and the vulnerable. In the early part of his address, Francis makes reference to the "twelve simple people" chosen by Jesus as his apostles, the idea that Jesus "spoke to everyone, without distinction", "lived the daily realities of most ordinary people" and "healed, comforted, understood, gave hope" to people who met him and who believed in his word then and now. Notable are his rhetorical references to many groups in society that are traditionally marginalized or downtrodden; the 'have-nots' who are contrasted time and again with the 'haves' as Francis speaks of "the rich young man and the poor widow, the powerful and the weak". Francis makes it clear that Jesus experienced human suffering as painfully as we all do; Francis' Jesus "cried in front of the suffering of Martha and Mary... and also suffered the betrayal of a friend". Perhaps most importantly (this coming from a man who refused to move into the papal appartments!), "Jesus did not have a home because His house is the people".
As I write this analysis, I find myself quoting Francis again and again instead of making a point in my own words - his synopsis of the life of Jesus, with its emphasis on poverty and human suffering, is so clearly written and so profound. I think that this clarity of language and of idea is deliberate - the tone of this speech is very much of a simple faith, centered around an idea so familiar from the New Testament; that the Christian faith should follow the example of Jesus in a lifestyle still considered radical today. Many facets of Jesus are presented to us in the Bible - Jesus is a little like a diamond which shines in an infinite number of ways, depending on how light strikes it. We can never hold him up to a single examination and capture all of the things he was and is, or all of the things he taught us. In one sense, the most powerful thing about Jesus for Christians is that he rose again from the dead, and through his own sacrifice enabled the salvation of mankind, whom he dearly loved. But in another (perhaps more subtle) sense, the most powerful thing about Jesus may also be his humanity. So many of Jesus' actions make us sympathise with his behaviour and his character, in a way that we could never sympathise with his almighty Father; he forms deep and close relationships with many around him, experiences clear frustration and anger on a number of occasions, grieves upon observing human sadness and experiencing betrayal (as Francis rightly points out) but most importantly of all, he was truly afraid to die, to the point where he repeatedly begged his Father to save him from his fate. His cry of "my God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" just before he dies on the cross as we will hear on Good Friday, is a cry that makes Jesus' very human relationship with God so clear - we live in a world of great sadness as well as joy, and have an often confused, uncertain or even angry relationship with God as we inhabit this world.
In a way, this discussion of Jesus' human suffering reflects the suffering of ourselves and our fellow human beings, and the importance of helping to reduce that suffering; but I think that more importantly, it makes Jesus someone we can relate to as Christians. Simple anecdotes from Jesus' life are often far more effective in this regard than so many shrewd theological arguments, especially when appealing to ordinary Christians around the world, and I suspect Francis may have recognized this. In his words, "each of us can say, "He loved me and gave Himself for me""; the final levelling of worldly privelege comes when Jesus sacrifices himself equally for all people, regardless of their wealth or even (just as important) their state of sin.
The second (related) theme I want to discuss is perhaps even more fascinating. As Francis moves away from his description of Jesus' life, he discusses what this description means for Christian faith. He concludes that "following Jesus means learning to come out of ourselves... to reach out to others, to go to the outskirts of existence, to be the first to move towards our brothers and sisters, especially those who are most distant, those who are forgotten, those who are most in need of understanding, consolation and help". These words are neither meek nor mild; they're not any attempt at compromise; they emphasize neither an intellectual nor an orthodox faith, but a practical one. This second theme is the difference between believing (and indeed, saying) and doing - Francis' call for us to go to the "outskirts of existence" is surely a reference to the very poorest people in the developing world, and he wants us to reach out to them:
a) as if they were ourselves, or our own family
b) immediately and
c) unreservedly.
Of course, such unmitigated charity is something that many people living in the West (including Catholics) tend to either only accept intellectually, or not to accept at all. Francis is, I believe, calling for a new and radical approach to the role Christians play in the wider community. He wishes to reinstate Christians as supporters of the marginalised, continuing the work of Jesus and many others (among them Francis of Assisi, after which this new pope is named) who went after him.
The third and final theme of this audience, then, is an appeal, in particular to those in positions of authority, wealth or power, not to succumb to "the temptation to withdraw into pre-established patterns that end up closing our horizon to the creative action of God". Francis has wasted no time in breaking pre-established patterns; as previously said, he refused to move into the papal appartments; as an archbishop in Buenos Aires he lived in a small flat, cooked for himself and used public transport; and he refused to wear a particularly ceremonial item of papal dress. Such actions resonate with the original aims of the Fransiscan order - to repair a Church focused too strongly on material, worldly ambition and status.
Pre-empting the inevitable response of many of the Catholic faithful, Francis goes on to describe excuses commonly given by Catholics (and indeed, secular people) for not doing more to help the poor - the list makes for embarassing reading, particularly if you're a student (like me!) funding a comfortable lifestyle off the money of others whilst engaged in academic (as opposed to vocational) work. Many friends of mine, both religious and secular, have expressed a discontent and a wish to do more to actively help the poor and disadvantaged, both in our own communities and abroad. Evidently, those of us who are Catholic and are troubled by this have ardent backing to change from Pope Francis, who is damning in his assessment of the behaviour of many ordinary Catholics: "Often we settle for a few prayers, a distracted and inconsistent presence at Sunday Mass, a random act of charity, but we lack this courage to "step outside" to bring Christ." This stern emphasis on change from Catholics living in the capitalist West will surely make for troublesome reading for millions of Catholics and Catholic parishes worldwide (I'm thinking particularly of Europe and North America) who are perfectly aware that they could do more to help the poor, and yet do not do so, and certainly do not act with the energetic certainty that Francis demands. How should we change? What steps should we take towards improving our actions? I am sure we will receive more guidance and support from Francis (and indeed, other leaders) on this as time goes on - but here in the West, I think we really need to evaluate our relationship with wealth and power in light of what Francis has said.
Francis concludes his audience with characteristically simple and clear language, asking us to follow "the Lord with courage, carrying a ray of His love for all those whom we meet." In this simple message, we are moved again to seriously reflect on our behaviour as Catholics, as we have done for the words of countless others before him. Do we always reflect Christ's unconditional, forgiving, understanding, boundless love in what we do? Can we justify ourselves to God in the light of his selfless devotion to his people? If we behave in ways that do not reflect this love (and there are many Catholics guilty of this in the past and present), it is our responsibility to recognize this and change, with all the immediacy and earnestness with which Pope Francis commands us.
Happy Easter to all!
The first obvious theme running through the whole audience is the need for Christian people (and indeed, all people) to help the poor and the vulnerable. In the early part of his address, Francis makes reference to the "twelve simple people" chosen by Jesus as his apostles, the idea that Jesus "spoke to everyone, without distinction", "lived the daily realities of most ordinary people" and "healed, comforted, understood, gave hope" to people who met him and who believed in his word then and now. Notable are his rhetorical references to many groups in society that are traditionally marginalized or downtrodden; the 'have-nots' who are contrasted time and again with the 'haves' as Francis speaks of "the rich young man and the poor widow, the powerful and the weak". Francis makes it clear that Jesus experienced human suffering as painfully as we all do; Francis' Jesus "cried in front of the suffering of Martha and Mary... and also suffered the betrayal of a friend". Perhaps most importantly (this coming from a man who refused to move into the papal appartments!), "Jesus did not have a home because His house is the people".
As I write this analysis, I find myself quoting Francis again and again instead of making a point in my own words - his synopsis of the life of Jesus, with its emphasis on poverty and human suffering, is so clearly written and so profound. I think that this clarity of language and of idea is deliberate - the tone of this speech is very much of a simple faith, centered around an idea so familiar from the New Testament; that the Christian faith should follow the example of Jesus in a lifestyle still considered radical today. Many facets of Jesus are presented to us in the Bible - Jesus is a little like a diamond which shines in an infinite number of ways, depending on how light strikes it. We can never hold him up to a single examination and capture all of the things he was and is, or all of the things he taught us. In one sense, the most powerful thing about Jesus for Christians is that he rose again from the dead, and through his own sacrifice enabled the salvation of mankind, whom he dearly loved. But in another (perhaps more subtle) sense, the most powerful thing about Jesus may also be his humanity. So many of Jesus' actions make us sympathise with his behaviour and his character, in a way that we could never sympathise with his almighty Father; he forms deep and close relationships with many around him, experiences clear frustration and anger on a number of occasions, grieves upon observing human sadness and experiencing betrayal (as Francis rightly points out) but most importantly of all, he was truly afraid to die, to the point where he repeatedly begged his Father to save him from his fate. His cry of "my God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" just before he dies on the cross as we will hear on Good Friday, is a cry that makes Jesus' very human relationship with God so clear - we live in a world of great sadness as well as joy, and have an often confused, uncertain or even angry relationship with God as we inhabit this world.
In a way, this discussion of Jesus' human suffering reflects the suffering of ourselves and our fellow human beings, and the importance of helping to reduce that suffering; but I think that more importantly, it makes Jesus someone we can relate to as Christians. Simple anecdotes from Jesus' life are often far more effective in this regard than so many shrewd theological arguments, especially when appealing to ordinary Christians around the world, and I suspect Francis may have recognized this. In his words, "each of us can say, "He loved me and gave Himself for me""; the final levelling of worldly privelege comes when Jesus sacrifices himself equally for all people, regardless of their wealth or even (just as important) their state of sin.
The second (related) theme I want to discuss is perhaps even more fascinating. As Francis moves away from his description of Jesus' life, he discusses what this description means for Christian faith. He concludes that "following Jesus means learning to come out of ourselves... to reach out to others, to go to the outskirts of existence, to be the first to move towards our brothers and sisters, especially those who are most distant, those who are forgotten, those who are most in need of understanding, consolation and help". These words are neither meek nor mild; they're not any attempt at compromise; they emphasize neither an intellectual nor an orthodox faith, but a practical one. This second theme is the difference between believing (and indeed, saying) and doing - Francis' call for us to go to the "outskirts of existence" is surely a reference to the very poorest people in the developing world, and he wants us to reach out to them:
a) as if they were ourselves, or our own family
b) immediately and
c) unreservedly.
Of course, such unmitigated charity is something that many people living in the West (including Catholics) tend to either only accept intellectually, or not to accept at all. Francis is, I believe, calling for a new and radical approach to the role Christians play in the wider community. He wishes to reinstate Christians as supporters of the marginalised, continuing the work of Jesus and many others (among them Francis of Assisi, after which this new pope is named) who went after him.
The third and final theme of this audience, then, is an appeal, in particular to those in positions of authority, wealth or power, not to succumb to "the temptation to withdraw into pre-established patterns that end up closing our horizon to the creative action of God". Francis has wasted no time in breaking pre-established patterns; as previously said, he refused to move into the papal appartments; as an archbishop in Buenos Aires he lived in a small flat, cooked for himself and used public transport; and he refused to wear a particularly ceremonial item of papal dress. Such actions resonate with the original aims of the Fransiscan order - to repair a Church focused too strongly on material, worldly ambition and status.
Pre-empting the inevitable response of many of the Catholic faithful, Francis goes on to describe excuses commonly given by Catholics (and indeed, secular people) for not doing more to help the poor - the list makes for embarassing reading, particularly if you're a student (like me!) funding a comfortable lifestyle off the money of others whilst engaged in academic (as opposed to vocational) work. Many friends of mine, both religious and secular, have expressed a discontent and a wish to do more to actively help the poor and disadvantaged, both in our own communities and abroad. Evidently, those of us who are Catholic and are troubled by this have ardent backing to change from Pope Francis, who is damning in his assessment of the behaviour of many ordinary Catholics: "Often we settle for a few prayers, a distracted and inconsistent presence at Sunday Mass, a random act of charity, but we lack this courage to "step outside" to bring Christ." This stern emphasis on change from Catholics living in the capitalist West will surely make for troublesome reading for millions of Catholics and Catholic parishes worldwide (I'm thinking particularly of Europe and North America) who are perfectly aware that they could do more to help the poor, and yet do not do so, and certainly do not act with the energetic certainty that Francis demands. How should we change? What steps should we take towards improving our actions? I am sure we will receive more guidance and support from Francis (and indeed, other leaders) on this as time goes on - but here in the West, I think we really need to evaluate our relationship with wealth and power in light of what Francis has said.
Francis concludes his audience with characteristically simple and clear language, asking us to follow "the Lord with courage, carrying a ray of His love for all those whom we meet." In this simple message, we are moved again to seriously reflect on our behaviour as Catholics, as we have done for the words of countless others before him. Do we always reflect Christ's unconditional, forgiving, understanding, boundless love in what we do? Can we justify ourselves to God in the light of his selfless devotion to his people? If we behave in ways that do not reflect this love (and there are many Catholics guilty of this in the past and present), it is our responsibility to recognize this and change, with all the immediacy and earnestness with which Pope Francis commands us.
Happy Easter to all!
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