JOHN PAUL I
GENERAL AUDIENCE
Wednesday, 13 September 1978
My first greeting goes to my bishop confrères, of whom I see
many here.
Pope John, in a note of his, which was also published, said:
"This time I gave the retreat on the Seven Lamps of Sanctification". Seven
virtues, he meant, that is, faith, hope, charity, prudence, justice, fortitude,
temperance. Who knows if the Holy Spirit will help the poor Pope today to
illustrate at least one or these lamps, the first one, faith.
Here in Rome there was a poet, Trilussa, who also tried to speak
of faith. In a certain poem of his, he said: "That little old blind woman, whom
I met / the evening I lost my way in the middle of the wood, / said to me: —If
you don't know the way / I'll accompany you, for I know it / If you have the
strength to follow me / from time to time I'll call to you, right to the bottom
there, where there is a cypress, / right to the top there, where there is a
cross. I answered: that may be ... but I find it strange / that I can be guided
by some one sightless ... / The blind woman, then, took my hand / and sighed:
Come on. —It was faith." As a poem, it is delightful; as theology, defective.
It is defective because when it is a question of faith, the
great stage manager is God. Because Jesus said: "No one comes to me unless my
Father draws him". St Paul did not have faith, in fact he was persecuting the
faithful. God waits for him on the way to Damascus: "Paul", he says to him,
"don't take it into your head to rear up, to kick, like a restive horse. I am
that Jesus whom you are persecuting. I need you. You must change!" Paul
surrendered; he changed, leading a completely different life. Some years
afterwards, he will write to the Philippians: "that time, on the way to
Damascus, God seized me; since then I have done nothing but run after him, to
see if I, too, am able to seize him, imitating him, loving him more and more."
That is what faith is: to surrender to God, but transforming
one's life. A thing that is not always easy! Augustine has told of the journey
of his faith; especially in the last few weeks it was terrible; reading, one
feels his soul almost shudder and writhe in interior conflicts. On the one hand,
God calls him and insists; on the other hand, his old habits, "old friends", he
writes, ... ; "and they pulled me gently by my mantle of flesh and they said to
me: 'Augustine, what! You are abandoning us? Look out, you won't be able to do
this any more, you won't be able ever again to do that other.''' A hard thing!
"I felt", he says, "like one who is in bed, in the morning. He is told: 'Out,
Augustine, get up! Finally the Lord gave me a sharp tug, and I came out. You
see, one mustn't say: 'Yes, but; yes, but later'. One must say: 'Yes,
Lord! At once!' This is faith. To respond to the Lord generously. But who
says this 'yes'? He who is humble and trusts God completely! "
My mother used to tell me when I was a boy: "When you were
little, you were very ill. I had to take you from one doctor to another and
watch over you whole nights; do you believe me?" How could I have said: "I don't
believe you, Mamma"? "Of course I believe, I believe what you tell me, but I
believe especially in you."
And so it is in faith. It is not just a question of believing in
the things that God revealed, but in him who deserves our faith, who has loved
us so much and done so much for our sake.
It is also difficult to accept some truths, because the truths
of faith are of two kinds; some pleasant, others unpalatable to our spirit. For
example, it is pleasant to hear that God has so much tenderness for us, even
more tenderness than a mother has for her children, as Isaiah says. How pleasant
and congenial it is! There was a great French bishop, Dupanloup, who used to say
to the rectors of seminaries: "with the future priests, be fathers, be mothers".
It is agreeable. Other truths, on the contrary, are hard to accept. God must
punish, if I resist. He runs after me, he begs me to repent and I say: "No!" I
almost force him to punish me. This is not agreeable. But it is a truth of
faith. And there is a last difficulty, the Church. St Paul asked: "Who are you,
Lord?" —"I am that Jesus whom you are persecuting". A light, a flash, crossed
his mind. I do not persecute Jesus, I don't even know him: I persecute the
Christians. It is clear that Jesus and the Christians, Jesus and the Church are
the same thing: indissoluble, inseparable.
Read St Paul: "Corpus Christi quod est Ecclesia". Christ and the
Church are only one thing. Christ is the Head, we, the Church, are his limbs. It
is not possible to have faith and to say, "I believe in Jesus, I accept Jesus
but I do not accept the Church." We must accept the Church, as she is. And what
is this Church like? Pope John called her "Mater et Magistra". Teacher also. St
Paul said: "Let everyone accept us as Christ's aids and stewards and dispensers
of his mysteries."
When the poor Pope, when the bishops, the priests, propose the
doctrine, they are merely helping Christ. It is not our doctrine, it is
Christ's; we must just guard it and present it. I was present when Pope John
opened the Council on 11 October 1962. At a certain point he said: "We hope that
with the Council the Church will take a leap forward." We all hoped so; but a
leap forward, on what way? He told us at once: on certain and immutable truths.
It never even occurred to Pope John that the truths could go forward, and then,
gradually, change. Those are the truths: we must walk along the way of these
truths, understanding them more and more, bringing ourselves up-to-date,
proposing them in a form suited to the new times. Pope Paul too had the same
thought. The first thing I did, as soon as I was made Pope, was to enter the
private Chapel of the Pontifical Household. Right at the back Pope Paul had two
mosaics made: St Peter and St Paul: St Peter dying, St Paul dying. But under St
Peter: are the words of Jesus: "I will pray for you, Peter, that your faith may
never fail." Under St Paul, on whom the sword falls: "I have run my race, I have
kept the faith." You know that in his last address on 29 June, Paul VI said:
"After fifteen years of pontificate, I can thank the Lord that I have defended
the faith, that I have kept the faith".
The Church is also a mother. If she continues Christ, and Christ
is good, the Church too must be good; good to everyone. But if by chance there
should sometimes be bad people in the Church? We have our mother. If mother is
sick, if my mother by chance should become lame, I love her even more. It is the
same, in the Church. If there are, and there are, defects and shortcomings, our
affection for the Church must never fail. Yesterday, and I conclude, I was sent
the issue of "Città Nuova". I saw that they have reported, recording it, a very
short address of mine, with an episode. A certain British preacher MacNabb,
speaking in Hyde Park, had spoken of the Church. When he finished, someone asked
to speak and said: "Yours are fine words. But I know some Catholic priests who
did not stay with the poor and became rich. I know also Catholic husbands who
have betrayed their wives. I do not like this Church made of sinners." The
Father said: "There's something in what you say. But may I make an objection?" —
"Let's hear it."—He says: "Excuse me, but am I mistaken or is the collar of your
shirt a little greasy?" —He says: "Yes, it is, I admit." —"But is it greasy
because you haven't used soap, or because you used soap but it was no use?"
"No", he says, I haven't used soap."
You see. The Catholic Church too has extraordinary soap: the
gospel, the sacraments, prayer. The gospel read and lived; the sacraments
celebrated in the right way; prayer well used, would be a marvellous soap,
capable of making us all saints. We are not all saints, because we have not used
this soap enough. Let us try to meet the hopes of the Popes who held and applied
the Council, Pope John, Pope Paul. Let us try to improve the Church, by becoming
better ourselves. Each of us and the whole Church could recite the prayer I am
accustomed to recite: "Lord, take me as I am, with my defects, with my
shortcomings, but make me become as you want me to be."
I must say a word also to our dear sick, whom I see there. You
know, Jesus said: "I hide behind them; what is done for them is done for me." So
we venerate the Lord himself in their persons and we hope that the Lord will be
close to them, and help and sustain them.
On our right, on the other hand, there are the newlyweds. They
have received a great sacrament. Let us wish that this sacrament which they have
received will really bring not only goods of this world, but more spiritual
graces. Last century there was in France a great professor, Frederick Ozanam. He
taught at the Sorbonne, and was so eloquent, so capable! His friend was
Lacordaire, who said: "He is so gifted, he is so good, he will become a priest,
he will become a great bishop, this fellow!" No! He met a nice girl and they got
married, Lacordaire was disappointed and said: "Poor Ozanam! He too has fallen
into the trap!" But two years later, Lacordaire came to Rome, and was received
by Pius IX. "Come, come, Father", he says. "I have always heard that Jesus
established seven sacraments. Now you come along and change everything. You tell
me that he established six sacraments, and a trap! No, Father, marriage is not a
trap, it is a great sacrament!"
So let us express again our best wishes for these dear
newlyweds: may the Lord bless them!
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Libreria Editrice Vaticana