Lent: Pope Francis, Mercy and the Salvific Value of the "via caritatis"

 There is something that I think is true of Pope Francis, just as it is true of all the recent holders of the office of the Successor of Peter: some exercises of their office (audiences, Apostolic letters, interviews etc) are just for their particular time or context, while others have a permanent significance for the future life of the Church (what might more strictly be termed the "Magisterium"). I wonder at times whether some sections of the ecclesial commentariat are too willing to confuse the former with the latter when they choose to criticise Pope Francis....

The beginning of Lent, however, leads me to suggest an aspect of Pope Francis' exercise of his office that I think does have a permanent significance for the teaching and life of the Church. It arises from the celebration of the Year of Mercy in 2015-16. If we read the Bull of Indiction for the start of the Jubilee and the Apostolic Letter issued to mark the end of the Year, we cannot escape the place given to  the living out of the Sacrament of Penance and to the living out of the corporal and spiritual works of mercy.

Let us place the Sacrament of Reconciliation at the centre once more in such a way that it will enable people to touch the grandeur of God’s mercy with their own hands. For every penitent, it will be a source of true interior peace.

I will never tire of insisting that confessors be authentic signs of the Father’s mercy. We do not become good confessors automatically. We become good confessors when, above all, we allow ourselves to be penitents in search of his mercy. Let us never forget that to be confessors means to participate in the very mission of Jesus to be a concrete sign of the constancy of divine love that pardons and saves. We priests have received the gift of the Holy Spirit for the forgiveness of sins, and we are responsible for this. None of us wields power over this Sacrament; rather, we are faithful servants of God’s mercy through it. Every confessor must accept the faithful as the father in the parable of the prodigal son: a father who runs out to meet his son despite the fact that he has squandered away his inheritance. Confessors are called to embrace the repentant son who comes back home and to express the joy of having him back again....

I invite priests once more to prepare carefully for the ministry of Confession, which is a true priestly mission. I thank all of you from the heart for your ministry, and I ask you to be welcoming to all, witnesses of fatherly tenderness whatever the gravity of the sin involved, attentive in helping penitents to reflect on the wrong they have done, clear in presenting moral principles, willing to walk patiently beside the faithful on their penitential journey, far-sighted in discerning individual cases and generous in dispensing God’s forgiveness. Just as Jesus chose to remain silent in order to save the woman caught in adultery from the sentence of death, so every priest in the confessional should be open-hearted, since every penitent is a reminder that he himself is a sinner, but also a minister of mercy. 

 During the Jubilee Year, Pope Francis undertook a series of encounters called "Fridays of Mercy" in which he modelled the practice of the works of mercy by visits, for example, to hospitals.

It is my burning desire that, during this Jubilee, the Christian people may reflect on the corporal and spiritual works of mercy. It will be a way to reawaken our conscience, too often grown dull in the face of poverty. And let us enter more deeply into the heart of the Gospel where the poor have a special experience of God’s mercy. Jesus introduces us to these works of mercy in his preaching so that we can know whether or not we are living as his disciples. Let us rediscover these corporal works of mercy: to feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, clothe the naked, welcome the stranger, heal the sick, visit the imprisoned, and bury the dead. And let us not forget the spiritual works of mercy: to counsel the doubtful, instruct the ignorant, admonish sinners, comfort the afflicted, forgive offences, bear patiently those who do us ill, and pray for the living and the dead....

Let us make every effort, then, to devise specific and insightful ways of practising charity and the works of mercy. Mercy is inclusive and tends to spread like wildfire in a way that knows no limits. Hence we are called to give new expression to the traditional works of mercy. For mercy overflows, keeps moving forward, bears rich fruit. It is like the leaven that makes the dough rise (cf. Mt 13:33), or the mustard seed that grows into a tree. 

 In one sense Pope Francis' promotion of the Sacrament of Penance is entirely traditional; but the context of mercy gives to it a freshness and attractiveness that is of a permanent value.

As far as the works of mercy are concerned, Amoris Laetitia takes a further step, in the specific context of "irregular" marital situations and against the background of the Year of Mercy, but nevertheless in a way that is of wider application too. It is the suggestion that the way of living the works of mercy - the via caritatis - is the way in which those who are not able share fully in other aspects of the life of the Church can nevertheless work out their salvation. This is to recognise a very high estimation to be given to the salvific value of the works of mercy for the one who carries them out, in addition to their value as a testimony of Christian faith to others. This is an aspect of Pope Francis' exercise of his office, in Amoris Laetitia and in the experience of the Jubilee Year of Mercy, that I think contributes an insight, to an extent new, that is of permanent value for the life of the Church.

306. In every situation, when dealing with those who have difficulties in living God’s law to the full, the invitation to pursue the via caritatis must be clearly heard. Fraternal charity is the first law of Christians (cf. Jn 15:12; Gal 5:14). Let us not forget the reassuring words of Scripture: “Maintain constant love for one another, for love covers a multitude of sins” (1 Pet 4:8); “Atone for your sins with righteousness, and your iniquities with mercy to the oppressed, so that your prosperity may be prolonged” (Dan 4:24[27]); “As water extinguishes a blazing fire, so almsgiving atones for sins” (Sir 3:30). This is also what Saint Augustine teaches: “Just as, at the threat of a fire, we would run for water to extinguish it… so too, if the flame of sin rises from our chaff and we are troubled, if the chance to perform a work of mercy is offered us, let us rejoice in it, as if it were a fountain offered us to extinguish the blaze”.

To conclude, a quote from the Apostolic Letter written at the close of the Year of Mercy:

Mercy renews and redeems because it is an encounter between two hearts: the heart of God who comes to meet us and a human heart. The latter is warmed and healed by the former. Our hearts of stone become hearts of flesh (cf. Ezek 36:26) capable of love despite our sinfulness. I come to realize that I am truly a “new creation” (Gal 6:15): I am loved, therefore I exist; I am forgiven, therefore I am reborn; I have been shown mercy, therefore I have become a vessel of mercy.

Abortion: a tragic anniversary [UPDATED]

On Friday, which marks the 50th anniversary of the Abortion Act in Britain, I will be away from home at an all day meeting and then travelling home. This will prevent me from taking part in the prayer vigil to which we are being called by our bishops on that day (though I expect I may be able to join in spirit during my train journey home).

After fifty years of legalised abortion, few in our countries have not had some experience of abortion. This is something that makes it a difficult topic to discuss in a public arena, particularly for a man, as the articulation of an objective ethical view is all to easily read by members of an audience as an individually directed comment on their personal choices in a situation whose complexity may be unknown to the writer/speaker. It is also the case that legalised abortion has impacted on the lives of Catholics, again, in a variety of ways.

The provision of Canon Law (Canon 1398) for a latae sententiae excommunication of the person who actually procures an abortion is intended to teach how seriously the Catholic Church views the offence of abortion. The joint statement of bishops describes every abortion as a "tragedy"; the Second Vatican Council, taking place at a time before abortion was legally available in many of the western democracies, described abortion as an "unspeakable crime" (Gaudium et Spes n.51). This teaching is balanced by the provisions of charity towards those who have experienced abortion. The absolution from the penalty of excommunication can now be offered by any priest and is no longer reserved to the bishop (earlier special provisions for the Year of Mercy and for participants in World Youth days are now permanent); and the bishops statement indicates a similar approach of mercy:

When abortion is the choice made by a woman, the unfailing mercy of God and the promise of forgiveness through the Sacrament of Reconciliation are always available. There is always a way home to a deeper relationship with God and the Church, as recent Popes have emphasised, which can heal and bring peace.

A particular challenge of conscience that faces a Catholic is that of how, given the prevalence of abortion in the culture and practice of life in our countries, we indicate our own "no" to abortion and thereby avoid feeling that, however distantly, we are complicit in the culture of abortion. One way of doing this is to join with those initiatives that seek to help women facing a choice for abortion. Peaceful prayer vigils at abortion clinics are one way of doing this, and the work of one such vigil in Ealing has been in the news recently. Coverage can be seen here, here, here and here.  Radio 4's World at One has an interesting clip here of an interview with a lady which indicates a value for the practical help offered by these vigils (you might need to register at the site to hear the clip).

From time to time I am stunned by the "economy with the truth" that I encounter on the subject of abortion. British law, for example, does not recognise in any way that access to abortion is a human right. On the contrary, it is framed to establish exemption from prosecution under other legislative provisions if certain conditions are met; and it is difficult to reconcile the availability of abortion in our countries with the right of life of Article 3 of the UN Universal Declaration on Human Rights. And an interview on the World at One with a woman who had travelled from Northern Ireland to Manchester for an abortion describes the woman waiting for her return flight in pain and with bleeding .... and yet she had been discharged from the abortion clinic, something that did not cause comment. (I can't trace the clip, but I am quite confident of my memory). The allegations of "harassment" at abortion clinic vigils, including the one at Ealing, are utterly unfounded as I have good reason to know.

UPDATE: The BBC News website is carrying this report of three women's experience of abortion. The reactions of boyfriends that occur in two of these stories appears to me very striking, with implications not only for the education of men in terms of understanding and taking responsibility for their sexual activity but also for the authenticity/character of their love for the girlfriends involved. Two phrases stand out to me: "I felt pressured into having an abortion" and "I didn't have much choice". So much for "choice" in the real experience of abortion.

Madeleine Delbrel: Counting on Mercy

Magnificat for 4th November offered, as the "Meditation of the Day", an extract from the writings of Madeleine Delbrel. Magnificat published it under the title "Counting on Mercy". In the English translation of the original text it is the first paragraphs of a section entitled "Those who are unhappy". It is part of a study written by Madeleine, dated 1951, that reflects on what it means to be a missionary in the Church of her times. The resonance of the study as a whole to Pope Francis' ideas of "missionary parishes" and "missionary disciples" is striking, as is the comparison of the passage offered by Magnificat to the evangelising significance of the Year of Mercy. It is also worth recalling, as we read the following words, Madeleine's own radical choice to live among the workers of a Communist suburb of Paris.

We cannot let mercy dry up, as so often happens today. A greater awareness of the economic hardship of the masses cannot lead us to have scorn for other forms of suffering, or to lose interest in them.

Christ's mercy for the poor is one part of a mercy as vast as all the human griefs combined. It is a mercy for sinners, a mercy for the sick, a mercy for those lamenting their dead, a mercy for those in prison, a mercy for all the little ones.

Because of a reductively materialistic notion of poverty, we are often in danger of forgetting that there are people who are poor in other ways than merely economically; there are other little ones than the workers. There are those who are morally or psychologically weak. There are those who are poor in gifts, in appeal, in love. In addition to the oppressed classes are those who are "unclassifiable".

Those who are little, those who are poor, are not only in the working class. And the working class itself is not made up exhaustively of militants, militants who are already rich in hope, rich in heart, rich in intellectual formation.

It is not up to us to correct Christ's heart either - it belongs to all people and we have to give it to all people.

The personal love of Christ. He calls each one by name - he does not call a category. He knows each one of as the Father knows the Son.

As I looked up this extract in my copy of We, the Ordinary People of the Streets, my eye was caught by the following in the last but one paragraph of the preceding section:

All great human activities function as signs. Just as marriage is the most perfect sign of the union of Christ and his Church, and voluntary celibacy makes us live more fully the reality towards which this sign points, human work is a sign of the Church's toil over the world, a suffering and fruitful labour.

I think I shall miss the Year of Mercy when it ends ....

It can appear that, in inaugurating a Year of Mercy, Pope Francis was being radical and novel in the way in which he wished to encourage us to live the Christian life. Actually I believe that what he has done is draw attention to a dimension of the Christian life that is already present and multiform in Catholic life.

The year has given me a sensitivity, for example, to those occasions when the Church's Liturgy makes reference to the mercy of God. The Collect for the Seventeenth Sunday of Ordinary Time, for example, is:

O God, protector of those who hope in you, without whom nothing has firm foundation, nothing is holy, bestow in abundance your mercy upon us and grant that, with you as our ruler and guide, we may use the good things that pass in such a way as to hold fast even now to those that ever endure.

And for Twenty Sixth Sunday of Ordinary Time:

O God, who manifest your almighty power above all by pardoning and showing mercy, bestow, we pray, your grace abundantly upon us and make those hastening to your promises heirs to the treasures of heaven.

Reading recently about Elizabeth of the Trinity, I came across a reference (which I can't at the moment trace) to St Catherine of Siena's praise of Divine Mercy in her Dialogue. This occurs in the section "A Treatise of Discretion" (text taken from EWTN website, and the same as that in the translation published by Baronius Press in 2006):

How this soul wondering at the mercy of God, relates many gifts and graces given to the human race.

Then this soul, as it were, like one intoxicated, could not contain herself, but standing before the face of God, exclaimed, "How great is the Eternal Mercy with which You cover the sins of Your creatures! I do not wonder that You say of those who abandon mortal sin and return to You, 'I do not remember that you have ever offended Me.' Oh, ineffable Mercy! I do not wonder that You say this to those who are converted, when You say of those who persecute You, 'I wish you to pray for such, in order that I may do them mercy.' Oh, Mercy, who proceeds from Your Eternal Father, the Divinity who governs with Your power the whole world, by You were we created, in You were we re-created in the Blood of Your Son. Your Mercy preserves us, Your Mercy caused Your Son to do battle for us, hanging by His arms on the wood of the Cross, life and death battling together; then life confounded the death of our sin, and the death of our sin destroyed the bodily life of the Immaculate Lamb. Which was finally conquered? Death! By what means? Mercy! Your Mercy gives light and life, by which Your clemency is known in all Your creatures, both the just and the unjust. In the height of Heaven Your Mercy shines, that is, in Your saints. If I turn to the earth, it abounds with Your Mercy. In the darkness of Hell Your Mercy shines, for the damned do not receive the pains they deserve; with Your Mercy You temper Justice. By Mercy You have washed us in the Blood, and by Mercy You wish to converse with Your creatures. Oh, Loving Madman! was it not enough for You to become Incarnate, that You must also die? Was not death enough, that You must also descend into Limbo, taking thence the holy fathers to fulfil Your Mercy and Your Truth in them? Because Your goodness promises a reward to them that serve You in truth, You descended to Limbo, to withdraw from their pain Your servants, and give them the fruit of their labours. Your Mercy constrains You to give even more to man, namely, to leave Yourself to him in food, so that we, weak ones, should have comfort, and the ignorant commemorating You, should not lose the memory of Your benefits. Wherefore every day You give Yourself to man, representing Yourself in the Sacrament of the Altar, in the body of Your Holy Church. What has done this? Your Mercy. Oh, Divine Mercy! My heart suffocates in thinking of you, for on every side to which I turn my thought, I find nothing but mercy. Oh, Eternal Father! Forgive my ignorance, that I presume thus to chatter to You, but the love of Your Mercy will be my excuse before the Face of Your loving-kindness."

"In the darkness of Hell Your Mercy shines ..." is the phrase which strikes me most as capturing something of the spirit of the Year of Mercy.

This is without considering the more recent development of devotion to the Divine Mercy prompted by the charism of St Faustina, and the establishing of the Liturgical celebration of that devotion at the beginning of the Easter season.

As I said above, rather than representing a radical innovation, the Year of Mercy draws our attention to a dimension of Christian life that is present already in the history and life of the Church and encourages us to live it with an ever greater richness.

Forgiven - a theme for the Year of Mercy

Zero and I recently visited the Guildhall Art Gallery in London, to see the exhibition Unseen London (exhibition finishes on 31st July, so don't expect this link to work after then).

Zero's attention was caught by a painting displayed in the general exhibition at the gallery. It is called Forgiven and is by a painter called Thomas Faed.

The painting prompts a reflection that is very relevant to the theme of the Year of Mercy, as the commentary provided at the link above suggests.

How difficult was it for the young girl to return to her home with the baby? And might our families today make such a return so difficult that the daughter might instead seek an abortion? Are our families places of unqualified welcome to their members?

How can the shame of the girl who hides her face be a style of shame from which growth occurs rather than being the result of a stigmatisation by others that causes her harm? How do we understand a rightful idea of shame, and live it in our families and parishes?

What are we to make of the departure of the father from the scene, in contrast with the welcome to the baby being offered by the mother? When the young girl would appear to have been abandoned by the father of her baby, does not her own father receive a particular mission to demonstrate the love of a father?

I am caught by where light plays in the painting - the young girls hair, the baby and the arm of the mother, and the way in which the father has moved away from the light at the table.

Thomas Faed appears to have painted with a motif of "observing" what was there in a scene, which suggests a certain realist phenomenology in his work. If he allows his work to portray the "real" in the scene, then Forgiven would appear to be rich in ideas for catechetical use.

Vigil of Prayer to "dry the tears of physical or spiritual suffering"

This event, in which Pope Francis will participate tomorrow (Thursday) in the Vatican Basilica, is striking in any number of ways.

It seems so typically something that Pope Francis would do ....

It captures a devotion of popular piety, typifying how such devotions represent, as Pope Francis said (in Evangelium Gaudium, I think) the inculturation of the Gospel.....

And it connects that devotion of piety into a more formal, though perhaps not strictly speaking Liturgical, structure ..... devotion leading towards the Liturgy and in turn drawing from the Liturgy....

Zero and I visited the shrine at Syracuse, where this devotion is particularly recognised, during a holiday some years ago, so it strikes a personal chord, too.

The announcement at the website of the Holy See reads:

Vatican City, 3 May 2016 – On 5 May, the solemnity of the Ascension of the Lord, the Pope will preside at a prayer vigil in St. Peter's Basilica to "dry faces streaked with the tears of a physical or spiritual suffering, bringing consolation and hope".

The event, that takes place in the context of the Jubilee Year, is intended as a visible sign of the merciful hand of the Father that reaches out to dry the tears of a mother or a father who has lost a child, of a child who has lost his or her parents, of those who battle against sickness, of those who have lost their job or are unable to find employment, of those who experience situations of discord in the family, of those who are alone because they are elderly, of those who suffer from existential malaise, of those who have suffered injustice, of those who have lost the meaning of life or are unable to find it. There are many and varied types of suffering, great or small, that each person carries within them, but they are all characterised by the "hardship" they cause in life and often a lack of hope and trust.

On the occasion of the vigil, the faithful in St. Peter's Basilica will be able to venerate the reliquary of Our Lady of Tears of Syracuse, linked to the prodigious phenomenon that took place between 29 August and 1 September 1953, when a plaster image representing the immaculate heart of Mary, placed above the bed in the house of a young married couple, Angelo Iannuso and Antonina Giusto, shed human tears.

The booklet of the celebration is here, and the inclusion of three testimonies reminds me of the practice of such movements as the Charismatic Renewal (with which Pope Francis is very familiar).

H/T to Abbey Roads

Do good and carry on!

One suspects a certain sense of mischief on the part of the translator into English from the original Italian of Pope Francis' words during the General Audience of 10th September 2014. Extracts from that audience address form the meditation for today in MAGNIFICAT. The choice of text for the meditation reflects today's feast of the Divine Mercy, described by our priest at Mass this morning as being the culmination of the whole of the Year of Mercy.

Mother Church teaches us to give food and drink to those who are hungry and thirsty, to clothe those who are naked. And how does she do this? She does it through the example of so many saints, men and women, who did this in an exemplary fashion; but she does it also through the example of so many dads and mamas, who teach their children that what we have extra is for those who lack the basic necessities. It is important to know this. The rule of hospitality has always been sacred in the simplest Christian families: there is always a plate and a bed for the one in need.

The MAGNIFICAT extract ends with Pope Francis words:

Do good and carry on! 

These translate from the Italian:

Fa’ il bene e vai avanti! [Do what is good, and move forward!]

Perhaps just as thought provoking as the paragraph above, is the following from Pope Francis' audience address:

And thus the Church conducts herself like Jesus. She does not teach theoretical lessons on love, on mercy. She does not spread to the world a philosophy, a way of wisdom.... Of course, Christianity is also all of this, but as an effect, by reflex [but consequently, indirectly - see the Italian below]. Mother Church, like Jesus, teaches by example, and the words serve to illuminate the meaning of her actions.

E allora la Chiesa si comporta come Gesù. Non fa lezioni teoriche sull’amore, sulla misericordia. Non diffonde nel mondo una filosofia, una via di saggezza…. Certo, il Cristianesimo è anche tutto questo, ma per conseguenza, di riflesso. La madre Chiesa, come Gesù, insegna con l’esempio, e le parole servono ad illuminare il significato dei suoi gesti

Dignified shame and a dignity that knows how to be ashamed: Pope Francis' Chrism Mass homily 2016

The homily given by Pope Francis at his celebration of the Chrism Mass can be read here. I do suggest reading the whole, as it is a rather beautiful read. One should perhaps read it in the context of a Jubilee Year of Mercy in which the Sacrament of Penance - or to use a title that has come again into prominence during this Year of Mercy, Confession - is to be seen as a very particular moment in which Catholics can receive God's Mercy.

I was very struck by the following passage, and by its leitmotif of a "dignified shame and a shamed dignity", a phrase I am finding very thought provoking though I am not sure I have fully grasped its meaning. I have added the italics below compared to the text on the Vatican website:

God does not only forgive incalculable debts, as he does to that servant who begs for mercy but is then miserly to his own debtor; he also enables us to move directly from the most shameful disgrace to the highest dignity without any intermediary stages.  The Lord allows the forgiven woman to wash his feet with her tears.  As soon as Simon confesses his sin and begs Jesus to send him away, the Lord raises him to be a fisher of men.  We, however, tend to separate these two attitudes: when we are ashamed of our sins, we hide ourselves and walk around with our heads down, like Adam and Eve; and when we are raised up to some dignity, we try to cover up our sins and take pleasure in being seen, almost showing off.

Our response to God’s superabundant forgiveness should be always to preserve that healthy tension between a dignified shame and a shamed dignity.  It is the attitude of one who seeks a humble and lowly place, but who can also allow the Lord to raise him up for the good of the mission, without complacency.  The model that the Gospel consecrates, and which can help us when we confess our sins, is Peter, who allowed himself to be questioned about his love for the Lord, but who also renewed his acceptance of the ministry of shepherding the flock which the Lord had entrusted to him.  

We live in a time when societies in developed countries, in the interests of overcoming "stigma" attached to behaviours at one time generally accepted as morally wrong, in effect lose a rightful sense of shame about those behaviours, a rightful shame that would discourage the wrong behaviour without persecuting its protagonists. In the context of the mother and baby homes in Ireland, for example, I wonder about the ecclesial and social attitudes which meant that young girls who fell pregnant were rejected by their families - was this a rightful shame or was it an unjust stigmatisation? There is a widespread acceptance of different sexual lifestyles today - does this not show a loss of a certain rightful shame that has accompanied the removal of an unjust stigmatisation that existed in the past? Pope Francis' phrase appears to me to capture something of the rightful sense of shame, whilst disallowing that of an unjust stigmatisation.

This appears more transparently in the Italian version of the phrase, where the word for shame might also be used to express embarrassment:

...quella sana tensione tra una dignitosa vergogna e una dignità che sa vergognarsi .... [... that healthy tension between a dignified shame/embarrassment and a dignity that knows how to be ashamed/embarrassed....]

In passing: I can already see the Catholic blogosphere erupting at Pope Francis' (obvious personal attack on its authors - not) expressed in these words addressed more immediately to priests:

We feel ourselves also trapped, not so much by insurmountable stone walls or steel enclosures that affect many peoples, but rather by a digital, virtual worldliness that is opened and closed by a simple click.  

I for one, a blogger who is not a priest, can understand exactly what Pope Francis is getting at as far as my own life is concerned. I suspect that his words speak, not only to me, but to others who write for the aether..... as should the words of a Pastor.

His mercy lasts forever: a Year of Mercy pilgrimage

The psalter for the Sunday of Week 2, as used in the English translation of the Liturgy of the Hours, includes Psalm 17 (118):

Give thanks to the Lord for he is good, for his love endures for ever.  

Let the sons of Israel say: 'His love endures for ever'.  

Let the sons of Aaron say: 'His love endures for ever'. 

Let those who fear the Lord say: 'His love endures for ever'.

The word "love" here has been translated directly from the Hebrew in the Grail translation used; the Latin of the Liturgia Horarium uses the word "misercordiae", that is, "mercy".  The English translation appears somewhat infelicitous in this Year of Mercy.

According to Pope John Paul II, in his commentary on this psalm given during his sequence of General Audience addresses on the psalms of morning and evening prayer (texts available from the CTS here):

The word "mercy" translates the Hebrew word hesed, that designates the generous fidelity of God towards the covenanted and friendly people. Three categories of people are told to praise this fidelity: all of Israel, the "house of Aaron", namely the priests, and those "who fear the Lord", a way of speaking that includes the faithful and the proselytes, namely the members of other nations who desire to follow the law of the Lord.

Pope Benedict XVI, when he refers to Psalm 135 as he completed Pope John Paul II's sequence of audiences, with its refrain (in the English translation of the psalter) "..for his love endures for ever", makes a similar observation with regard to the origin of that refrain in a translation from the original Hebrew word, hesed.

This is helpful here in Brentwood Diocese because, as we enter the Holy Door at our Cathedral, it is precisely this refrain - with the translation as "mercy" rather than "love" - that is encountered.

If we return to Psalm 117, Pope John Paul II describes it as reflecting a processional rite, through the city to the Temple. This can reflect our Holy Year pilgrimage to enter through the Holy Door. He also points out the reach of this "mercy" - beyond the people of Israel to those of other nations. We can recognise in this something of Pope Francis' wish to reach out to the "peripheries" in this Year of Mercy.

I do think Brentwood Cathedral has been particularly blessed in the Holy Door at its Cathedral.

Abortion and the Catholic Church today

It is not easy to write about the subject of abortion. The ready availability of access to abortion in the UK since 1967 means that, in any audience reading a blog post or listening to a speaker, there will be people with their own experience of abortion. And amongst that audience the experiences will differ from one person to another, and inevitably will differ from that of the writer or speaker. A writer needs to take care, therefore, to be non-judgemental of the experiences and decisions of others, whilst at the same time articulating their own view point.

1. There is no one narrative that captures the experience of a woman who makes a decision for abortion (or, perhaps, a decision against abortion). Each and every woman is an individual in their own individual circumstances, with their different pressures which in some way constrain the freedom of their decision making. Sure, some will be able to exercise a "right to choose" in its fullest sense; but even publications from supporters of legalised abortion (I have one such book on my desk as I write this post) demonstrate the wide variety of different circumstances which lead women to have an abortion.

2. The Catholic Church is not immune from the experience of abortion - it would be extremely naïve to think otherwise. Within a typical Catholic parish it would be surprising if there were not women who have had abortions, or families where the phenomenon of abortion has affected family members. If this is just hidden by a silence, and by a rejection of the women involved, parish communities expose themselves to the same kind of risk that in the past led to the social rejection of unmarried mothers. It may not be an easy thing to do, and it certainly needs to be done with sensitivity; but how a parish community responds to those who have experienced abortion should be part of the ordinary pastoral conversation in which all members of the community play a part, ensuring that when the need arises the reaction is one of loving care rather than rejection.

3. A part of the phenomenon of abortion in the UK is the existence of organisations dedicated to the provision of abortion as a service to women. Some time ago, the British Pregnancy Advisory Service, one of the UKs leading abortion providers, published research indicating that some two thirds of its clients who had abortions over a three year period had been using a form of contraception when they became pregnant. More recently, they responded to an enquiry to confirm that some of the women undergoing abortions provided by BPAS had, with explicit consent of the women and on a non-profit basis for both BPAS and the women involved, have donated foetal tissue for research purposes. In addition to the experiences of abortion itself, the phenomenon created by the legal availability of abortion includes a quasi-commercial sector which embeds the phenomenon in different aspects of our contemporary culture.

4. The acceptance of ready access to abortion has become widespread in the years since the 1967 Abortion Act. Though not often the subject of open discussion, it is nevertheless now a feature of our culture. The Catholic Church, however, offers a resistance to this cultural acceptance of abortion, and from time to time it is well for the Church to express this resistance, not as a condemnation of those who have experienced abortion, but as a testimony to her own belief as to what is true about the question of abortion and a challenge to the quasi-commercial sector indicated above. The following is taken from the Catechism of the Catholic Church:

2270 Human life must be respected and protected absolutely from the moment of conception. From the first moment of his existence, a human being must be recognized as having the rights of a person - among which is the inviolable right of every innocent being to life......  

2271 Since the first century the Church has affirmed the moral evil of every procured abortion. This teaching has not changed and remains unchangeable. Direct abortion, that is to say, abortion willed either as an end or a means, is gravely contrary to the moral law .... Life must be protected with the utmost care from the moment of conception: abortion and infanticide are abominable crimes.  

2272 Formal cooperation in an abortion constitutes a grave offense. The Church attaches the canonical penalty of excommunication to this crime against human life. "A person who procures a completed abortion incurs excommunication latae sententiae," "by the very commission of the offense" and subject to the conditions provided by Canon Law. The Church does not thereby intend to restrict the scope of mercy. Rather, she makes clear the gravity of the crime committed, the irreparable harm done to the innocent who is put to death, as well as to the parents and the whole of society.

 5. The Year of Mercy that has just begun provides an opportunity for the Church to reach out to those who have been affected by abortion. The provisions for remission of the penalty of excommunication associated with procurement of abortion already present in Canon Law (a Bishop already has authority to allow that remission and, it would appear, in many Dioceses has delegated that authority to the priests of the Diocese; and at an event such as the World Youth Day in Madrid, that authority was extended to all priests hearing confessions in the context of the World Youth Day) have been given to the priests who will act as "Missionaries of Mercy" during the coming year. In my own diocese, one of the events for the Year of Mercy is to be dedicated to those affected by abortion. In this way, the scope of mercy to which the Catechism refers can be made manifest in a special way.

To the Roman Curia: what Pope Francis actually said ....

On the 21st December, Pope Francis met with the workers of the Roman Curia, for the annual exchange of Christmas greetings. I link to the English translation at the Vatican website, but also to the Italian, which I am presuming was the language in which the address was delivered. There are a couple of points where the Italian communicates a nuance that is not successfully translated into the English.

Pope Francis opened his address as follows:

Vi chiedo scusa di non parlare in piedi, ma da alcuni giorni sono sotto l’influsso dell’influenza e non mi sento molto forte. Con il vostro permesso, vi parlo seduto.

Or, in the English translation:

Forgive me for not standing up as I speak to you, but for some days I’ve been suffering from a cold and not feeling too well. With your permission, I’ll speak to you sitting down. 

The "effects of influenza" in Italian have become "suffering from a cold", and "I do not feel very strong" has become "not feeling too well" in the English.

Pope Francis offered his Christmas greetings to his audience, to their co-workers in the service of the Curia and to their families:

I am pleased to offer heartfelt good wishes for a blessed Christmas and a happy New Year to you and your co-workers, to the Papal Representatives, and in particular to those who in the past year have completed their service and retired. Let us also remember all those who have gone home to God. My thoughts and my gratitude go to you and to the members of your families.

After referring to his two previous meetings with the Curia on the occasion of Christmas, Pope Francis observed (the "diseases" being a reference to his "catalogue of temptations" of last year's address - and do remember that that catalogue was offered as an examination of conscience in preparation for the celebration of Christmas, with a clear sense of self-inclusion on the part of the Holy Father):

.... diseases and even scandals cannot obscure the efficiency of the services rendered to the Pope and to the entire Church by the Roman Curia, with great effort, responsibility, commitment and dedication, and this is a real source of consolation. Saint Ignatius taught that “it is typical of the evil spirit to instil remorse, sadness and difficulties, and to cause needless worry so as to prevent us from going forward; instead, it is typical of the good spirit to instil courage and energy, consolations and tears, inspirations and serenity, and to lessen and remove every difficulty so as to make us advance on the path of goodness.”

It would be a grave injustice not to express heartfelt gratitude and needed encouragement to all those good and honest men and women in the Curia who work with dedication, devotion, fidelity and professionalism, offering to the Church and the Successor of Peter the assurance of their solidarity and obedience, as well as their constant prayers.  

Moreover, cases of resistance, difficulties and failures on the part of individuals and ministers are so many lessons and opportunities for growth, and never for discouragement. They are opportunities for returning to the essentials, which means being ever more conscious of ourselves, of God and our neighbours, of the sensus Ecclesiae and the sensus fidei.

The central part of Pope Francis' address was then dedicated to an acrostic of the Latin word for mercy, Misericordia, using each letter of the word to indicate a virtue or strength that might be emulated by those who work in the Curia. Pope Francis cites Fr Matteo Ricci, the Jesuit missionary to the Far East, as having done the same thing. I have not yet tracked down Fr Ricci's text, but it may be interesting to place it alongside Pope Francis' address.

[It is Pope Francis' fifth section, entitled in Italian as "Razionalità e amabilità" and in English as "Reasonableness and gentleness" where I feel there is some difference in nuance between the Italian original and the English translation, and perhaps some loss of the essential point being made, namely that an equilibrium is needed between rationality and friendliness in our dealings with others.]

Needless to say, those same virtues or strengths might well be addressed to each and every Catholic whatever their state of life or form of work. Though addressed immediately to the Curia, I think we should take them as addressed to the whole Church, perhaps particularly to those who hold some form of ecclesial office, but also to the lay faithful who could emulate these virtues and strengths in their places of work. Do read them all.

I finish, not with the prayer that Pope Francis cited, but with his citation of St Augustine, earlier in the address:

Christmas is truly the feast of God’s infinite mercy, as Saint Augustine of Hippo tells us: “Could there have been any greater mercy shown to us unhappy men than that which led the Creator of the heavens to come down among us, and the Creator of the earth to take on our mortal body? That same mercy led the Lord of the world to assume the nature of a servant, so that, being himself bread, he would suffer hunger; being himself satiety, he would thirst; being himself power, he would know weakness; being himself salvation, he would experience our woundedness, and being himself life, he would die. All this he did to assuage our hunger, alleviate our longing, strengthen our weaknesses, wipe out our sins and enkindle our charity”.

The Day of Christ, the Day of Mercy

I have just encountered a book Generating Traces in the History of the World,  a book which according to its blurb, "is a synthesis of Monsignor Luigi Giussani's reflection on Christian experience". In the last few months, excerpts from the book have appeared in Magnificat.

I was struck by the title of the last chapter of the book: "The Day of Christ, the Day of Mercy". Given Pope Francis' familiarity with the movement Communion and Liberation, I wonder whether that familiarity provides at least something of the background to his calling of the Year of Mercy, and a helpful way of understanding what the year is and is not about.

Just as the Bull of Indiction for the Holy Year includes a discussion of the relationship of justice and mercy to each other in the Christian mystery (nn.20-21), so does the chapter in Generating Traces suggest, albeit briefly, that where the reason of man can arrive at a notion of justice with regard to wrong doing, it takes the revelation of the Christian mystery to enable man to access the experience of mercy. The chapter does suggest an eschatological character to the revelation of divine mercy:

If every hour of history is the hour of Christ's human glory that happens through the conscious offering of believers, there will come a day that no one knows (neither the angels of God, nor the Son, but only the Father) when the definitive revelation of the Mystery will take place, as the valuing of every good the Father has generated, the Son has assumed, and the Spirit has made fruitful. All the good, even the furtive move stirred up in the almost unconscious darkness of human endeavours in history, will not be erased by God who, as the summit of Being, cannot contradict Himself by annihilating on single instant of good. It will be the day of the triumph of Christ, who will hand over everything to the Father, so that the Father may be "all in all".... If Christ is the protagonist of the "last day", the day of Christ's triumph will therefore be the day of mercy....

It is also worth reading the account of the parable of the prodigal son given in Generating Traces .. alongside that of Pope St John Paul II in his encyclical letter Dives in Misercordia (nn.5-6), in order to capture a nuance that is important in understanding a significance of the parable for the Holy Year:

In Rembrandt's famous painting, the prodigal son is the mirror image of the Father. The Father's face is full of sorrow at the son's error, at his denial, full of a sorrow that flows back into forgiveness. Human imagination can reach this point. But the most spectacular and mysterious thing is that the Father's face is the mirror image of the prodigal son. In Rembrandt's painting, the Father is in a position that mirrors the son - in Him is reflected the son's sorrow, the despair overcome, the destruction prevented, the happiness about to rekindle, in the instant in which it is about to rekindle, when goodness triumphs. Goodness triumphs in the prodigal son because he weeps for his mistake. But goodness triumphs in the Father: this is the concept of mercy which man cannot manage to understand, or speak of. And the Father's face is mercy, because it is pity for the one who has gone wrong and is there, turned towards the one who is coming back.

When we put this alongside words which occur about a page later in the chapter, and still commenting on the parable, it is impossible to take away from the proposal of the Jubilee of Mercy any sense that it is indifferent to wrong doing. Indeed, the call to conversion is of the essence of the response to mercy.

The concept of forgiveness, with a certain proportion between mistakes and punishments, is in some way conceivable for human reason, but not this limitless forgiveness that is mercy. Being forgiven arises here from something absolutely incomprehensible to man, from the Mystery; in other words, from mercy. It is what cannot be understood that ensures the exceptionality of what can be understood, because God's life is love, caritas, absolute free giving, love without profit, humanly "without reasons".

The chapter in Generating Traces .. suggests two ways in which we might in our turn try to be merciful as the Father is merciful. The first is that we should be sorrowful for what we have done, but sorrowful in a way that is at once also joy:

In virtue of the revelation of His mercy - which would seem to sanction all human behaviour, but it does not - God fills us with sorrow for the evil that we were not even aware of before ... his is a sorrow full of gladness, but it is still sorrow, sorrow at oneself.

The second is that of responding in astonishment at God's mercy, expressed in an attitude of entreaty, or begging, before the Lord:

We are not truly human if we do not wish to be merciful like our heavenly Father. The question is whether or not we really desire it. So the miracle of mercy is the desire to change.... This desire defines the present, the instant of man who is a sinner. The miracle is accepting oneself and entrusting oneself to an Other present so as to be changed, standing before Him and begging.

Entreaty is the whole expression of man now, in the instant.

Just as Pope Francis, at the end of the Bull of Indiction for the Holy Year of Mercy, indicates the dimension of evangelisation contained in the proclamation of mercy:

[The Church] knows that her primary task, especially at a moment full of great hopes and signs of contradiction, is to introduce everyone to the great mystery of God’s mercy by contemplating the face of Christ. The Church is called above all to be a credible witness to mercy, professing it and living it as the core of the revelation of Jesus Christ.

so does Generating Traces.., though from the viewpoint of an experience of Christian life:

The reality of mercy is the supreme opportunity that Christ and the Church have for making His Word reach man, not just as a mere echo of this word in man.

The commandments of God are given to us precisely as a mercy

Those who counterpose the mercy of God and the commandments of God misunderstand both mercy and commandment. The commandments of God are given to us precisely as a mercy. They are not, in some strange way, more important than mercy. They are not rules imposed from the outside that above all else have to be obeyed. They are given to help us to live the pathway of our true dignity and highest calling. As Pope Francis says, commandments are not restrictions on our freedoms but indicators of our freedom. Understanding the true purpose of the commandment helps us to see how much we need God’s mercy.

God’s mercy is misunderstood if it is taken as something which enables us to overlook those commandments or somehow imagine that we are excused their calling. Rather it is the eternal restlessness of God’s love calling us again and again to raise our eyes beyond the horizons we have set for ourselves, the limits of what we believe we can manage, the limits of what we think can reasonably be asked of us and to reach out again for the fullness of his love, opening our hearts again to its light and joy. Mercy enables us to start out again. It does not enable us to stop where we are, comfortable in a sense of being accepted just as we are.

Of course we are accepted. And of course we are disturbed, disturbed by God’s love which is never quiet within us until it has truly filled and reshaped us. Let us never try to quieten the call of that great love!

Source: here.