Palm Sunday – The inevitability of the Passion

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It’s Palm Sunday, which means Holy Week has begun. In the Gospel reading at Mass we heard the entire Easter narrative, from the Last Supper to Jesus’ entombment – we’ll go over the same events in the course of this week, especially from Thursday onwards. But today we especially marked Jesus’ joyful entrance in Jerusalem:

“Jesus proceeded on his journey up to Jerusalem. As he drew near to Bethphage and Bethany at the place called the Mount of Olives, he sent two of his disciples. He said, “Go into the village opposite you, and as you enter it you will find a colt tethered on which no one has ever sat. Untie it and bring it here. And if anyone should ask you, ‘Why are you untying it?’ you will answer, ‘The Master has need of it.’”
So those who had been sent went off  and found everything just as he had told them. And as they were untying the colt, its owners said to them,  “Why are you untying this colt?” They answered, “The Master has need of it.”
So they brought it to Jesus, threw their cloaks over the colt, and helped Jesus to mount. As he rode along, the people were spreading their cloaks on the road; and now as he was approaching the slope of the Mount of Olives, the whole multitude of his disciples
began to praise God aloud with joy for all the mighty deeds they had seen.
They proclaimed: “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord. Peace in heaven and glory in the highest.”
Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, “Teacher, rebuke your disciples.” He said in reply, “I tell you, if they keep silent, the stones will cry out!””

Gospel of Luke 19:28-40

This is the reading we heard at the start of Mass. In many places, the faithful then processed into Church, carrying palm branches, so recreating the arrival of Jesus in Jerusalem. It’s more than symbolism, of course, as Jesus is not just symbolically with us, but in a very real way: it is good to remember that every now and then in the way we behave around Him. If only we wouldn’t change our mind so quickly as the people in Jerusalem did in those faithful days leading up to His Passion. From “Hossanah” to “Crucify Him!” just like that…

The text from the Gospel of Luke above has a distinct sense of things falling into place. Jesus seems to know exactly what needs to be done, as well as what otherwise complete strangers will say and do. Later on, as Jesus prays on the Mount of Olives, we find out more about this inevitability: He ask that this cup be taken from Him, but “not my will, but yours be done”. Jesus knows what needs to be done, and also why: to redeem the people of God, to take all their pain and suffering upon His shoulders, so that they don’t  have to, and accept all the consequences… He is to do what they, we, can’t. What was our death now becomes His. The events we read above seem to prefigure that: it is inevitable that a colt be found, that the owner be told the Master needs it (and that he accepts it), and even the praise is unavoidable. The Pharisees who complain about it are told that if the disciples don’t praise God, the stones will: For what is about to happen, God deserves praise which can’t  be stopped.

Strangely enough, we read nothing here about the people of Jerusalem cheering and waving palm fronds: it is the disciples who are doing the praising and spreading their cloaks on the ground before the colt on which Jesus rides. In the other Gospels, especially in those of John and Matthew, we do read about people coming out of the city to meet and accompany Him. By focussing solely on the disciples, Luke emphasises the contrast between them and Jerusalem: there is a sense of hostility in the city already. The first thing we encounter there are Pharisees almost ordering that Jesus tell His disciples off for their joy. There is jubilation and praise, certainly, but all is not as happy as it seems. The coming days will show exactly how hostile things will become…

Photo credit: Catholic News Agency

Network of love – Bishop van den Hende on what makes a diocese

Last month, the Dioceses of Groningen-Leeuwarden and Rotterdam marked the 60th anniversary of their foundation. A week ago, the website of the latter diocese published the text of the Bishop Hans van den Hende’s homily for the festive Mass on 6 February. In it, the bishop puts the sixty years that the diocese has existed in perspective, and goes on the describe the diocese not as a territory, but as a part of the people of God, as the Second Vatican Council calls it in the decree Christus Dominus. Following Blessed Pope Paul VI, Bishop van den Hende explains that a diocese is a network of love. following the commandment of Jesus to remain in His love. This network starts in the hearts of people and as such it contributes to building a society of love and mercy.

20160206_Rotterdam_60JaarBisdom_WEB_©RamonMangold_08_348pix“Brothers and sisters in Christ, today we mark the sixtieth year of the existence of the Diocese of Rotterdam. “Sixty years, is that worth celebrating?”, some initially wondered. “We celebrated fifty years in a major way. One hundred years would be something.”

In the history of the Church, sixty years is not a long period of time. But sixty years is a long time when you consider it in relation to a human life. Many people do not reach the age of sixty because of hunger and thirst, war and violence. There are major areas where there hasn’t been peace for sixty years. Sixty years is long enough to contain a First and a Second World War.

Every year that the Lord gives us has its ups and downs, can have disappointments, great sorrow and joy. Sixty years we began as a diocese. In 1955, Pope Pius XII had announced that there would be two new dioceses in the Netherlands. The north of the country received the Diocese of Groningen. And here the Diocese of Rotterdam was created from the Diocese of Haarlem.

In 1956, on 2 February, both dioceses began. The new bishops came later. The bishops of the older dioceses of Utrecht and Haarlem initially were the administrators of the new dioceses. But in May of 1956 the first shepherds of the two new dioceses were consecrated (the consecration of Msgr. Jansen as bishop of Rotterdam was on 8 May 1956).

Describing the division of dioceses in provinces and areas, I could give you the impression that a diocese is in the first place a territory that can be pointed out geographically. But a diocese is not primarily a firmly defined area or a specific culture. The Second Vatican Council describes a diocese in the first place as a part of the people of God: “portio populi Dei” (CD, 11). The Vatican Council avoids here the word “pars”, that is to say, a physical piece.

A diocese is a part of the people of God. And that automatically makes a diocese a network of people united in faith around the one Lord. A network in the heart of society, connected to people that they may travel with. Pope Paul VI characterised the Church as a “network of love”, with the mission to contribute to a society of love in the entire world.

A network of love in unity with Jesus, who tells His disciples in the Gospel (John 15: 9-17), “Remain in my love”. Now that we are marking sixty years, we must recognise that things can go wrong in those sixty years, that there are things which do not witness to the love of Christ. How we treat each other, how parishes sometimes compete with each other, and also the sin of sexual abuse of minors and how we deal with that, these are part of our history.

Should we then say that this network of love is too difficult a goal to achieve? If we think that, we should remember what St. Paul says in the first reading (1 Cor. 1:3-9). He says: the network of love does not just belong to people, but is united with Jesus Christ, who helps us persevere until the end. Jesus is God’s only Son who has lived love to the fullest, who died on the cross, who rose from the dead and who made no reproaches but said, “Peace be with you” (cf. John 20:21).

The network of love is inspired by the Holy Spirit whose efficacy becomes visible where there is unity, where forgiveness is achieved, where people can bow to each other and serve one another.

To be a network of love is a duty that we must accept ever anew as a mission from the Lord. We are a diocese according to God’s heart, insofar as the witness to Christ has taken root in us (1 Cor. 1:5-6). When we do not consider the disposition of His heart we do not go His way. And when we do not store and keep His life in our hearts (cf. Luke 2:51), we are not able to proclaim His word and remain in His love.

As a diocese (as a local Church around the bishop) we are not just a part of the worldwide Church of Christ, but a part in which everything can happen which makes us Church in the power of the Holy Spirit: in the first place the celebration of the Eucharist as source and summit, and the other sacraments: liturgy. Communicating the faith in the proclamation of the Gospel: kerygma, which – in catechesis, for example – must be coupled with solidarity between the generations. And thirdly, that we, as a network of love, show our faith in acts of love: charity (cf. Deus caritas est, n. 23).

We celebrate this anniversary in a year of mercy, proclaimed by Pope Francis. It is a holy year of mercy. Mercy means on the one hand to continue trusting in God’s love, asking for forgiveness for what’s not right, for what is a sin. Allowing Him into our hearts. On the other hand it means that we make mercy a mission in our lives and show it in our service to our neighbours, in acts of love, in works of mercy. In the Gospel of Matthew, chapter 25, Jesus summarises this for us: I was thristy and you gave me to drink, I was hungry and you gave me to eat. I was naked, I was homeless and alone. Did you care for me? Jesus does not isolate people in need, but identifies Himself with them: You help me when you approach a person in need (vg. Matt. 25:40).

Characterising the diocese and the entire Church as a network of love is not a recent invention from our first bishop, Msgr. Jansen, but is an answer to Christ’s own mission for His Church. And many saints went before us on that path with that mission. Saint Lawrence was a deacon in third-century Rome (225-258), who helped the people where he could. And when the emperor wanted to take all the Church’s treasure, which wasn’t even in the form of church buildings, as the Christians did not have those yet, Lawrence did not come to him with the riches, but with the people in need. And he said, “These are the treasures of the Church”. These treasures don’t take the form of bank accounts or the wax candles the emperor loved so much, but people, who are images of God. Jesus looking into our hearts also asks us to see in the hearts of people. In this way we continue to celebrate Lawrence and his witness.

And what about Saint Elisabeth (1207-1231) who went out to give bread to people and help the sick? She was of noble birth and was expected not to do this, but she went out from her castle and helped people in need. In this way she was a face of God’s mercy. And consider Blessed Mother Teresa (1910-1997), of whom there is a statue in this church. She saw people collapsing in misery, lying in the gutter, and she saw in their hearts. And also in our city of Rotterdam we are happy to have sisters of Mother Teresa realising mercy in our time.

A network of love and building a society of love. What more can we do in love and mercy? Marking sixty years of our diocese, it is a good time to ask ourselves: has the witness of Christ, has His love properly entered our hearts? And then we should say, and I am answering on behalf of all of us: we could do better. We need mercy and are to communicate God’s merciful love. In this city and elsewhere we are to contribute to a civilisation of love, contribute to a community which builds up instead of tearing down. It is clear that neither the Kingdom of God nor a diocese can be found on a map, because it starts in the hearts of people.

I pray that we celebrate this anniversary today in the knowledge that God’s mercy accompanies us and that we may accept his mission of solicitude, compassion and mercy. This is more than enough work for us, but it is only possible when it fills our hearts. Amen.”

Müller’s mission – What rules have got to do with it

His is an unenviable task. With the faithful inspired by a charismatic Pope to show and share God’s  mercy in their lives, Cardinal Gerhard Müller has to remind us of the less enticing but equally important parts of being a Catholic.

naamloosIn a recent interview, the Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith once more commented on the hot topic of whether divorced and remarried faithful can receive Communion, a topic that is as misunderstood as it is debated.

“The Pope continuously says that it is not about Holy Communion alone, but about the integration into the life of the Church, of which the final step in a  process of conversion and clarification can be Communion under the generally applicable conditions. A second marriage or second partner when the lawful spouse is still alive is, according to the Catholic interpretation of the words of Jesus, not possible. The Pope and all of us, however, absolutely want to avoid that people, also those in ambiguous marriage bonds, “drift away” from the Church as a salvific community. There are other – theologically valuable and legitimate – forms of participation in the life of the Church. Community with God and the Church does not solely consist of the physical reception of Holy Communion.”

Of course, these words have triggered much commentary, and a significant part of that commentary has been not only negative, but missing the point as well. Many wonder how this is merciful, or say that Jesus would allow divorced and remarried person to receive Him. The latter is quite presumptuous, while the former missunderstands what mercy is.

As Catholics we have the duty to be merciful to others, to open our hearts to the humanity of everyone, regardless of their situation. As Catholics we are also asked to listen to and make Christ’s words our own. Christ refused no one: he spoke and ate with the greatest sinners: from tax collectors to adulterers. In His mercy, which we are asked to make our own, he saw them as persons and listened to their stories, questions and concerns. He also taught them, admonished them when needed and invited them to follow Him, and said that he did not come to abolish the law, but to complete it (Matthew 5:17).

Law and mercy are equal parts of Christ’s message. We have frequently heard that mercy is the greatest of these, which means that it should play the greater role in our dealing with people. The objective law, however, remains as a collection of signposts along the way on which we follow Christ. It is one of the missions of the Church to maintain these signposts, and she has made it the primary task of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, currently headed by Cardinal Müller. That too is a mission of mercy, of which truth and honesty are integral parts.

The question of the indissolubility of marriage, of who can and can not receive Communion, are serious ones and need consideration beyond the emotional. In the pastoral situation on the ground mercy must be enacted towards everyone, but mercy is so much more than avoiding what’s difficult or seems unkind. It is no less merciful to clarify and explain than it is to open our doors to all.

Photo credit: dpa

The question of being human – Bishop Neymeyr’s message for Lent

In his message for Lent, Bishop Ulrich Neymeyr of Erfurt tackles a difficult question – “what does it mean to be human?” – and arrives at a twofold answer. In the process he also discusses the humanity of refugees, something we must always endeavour to recognise, especially when confronted with the problems and challenges that come with accepting and sheltering people from different cultures.

The Holy Year of Mercy also gets a look in, as do the works of mercy.
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“My dear sisters and brothers,

“What is being human?” At the start of Lent I invite you to reflect on this question, as it leads us to the current challenges of this year. “What is being human?” We think of other concepts, such as understanding, kindness, helpfulness. Someone who is human, sees needs and tries to alleviate them. The countless people who have come to us as refugees in recent months, experience such humanity. Many people in Thuringia consider it important not to describe or treat the refugees as a stream, flood or mass, but as people who fled out of necessity. Even when our country has to send people back when there is no danger for life and limb in their homeland, they are people, who should be treated humanely. We can not be indifferent to what happens to them at home. This striving for compassion – also with refugees – unites us with most people in Thuringia. As Christians we are bound to be more than compassionate, namely charitable. Jesus identifies Himself with people in need: “I was a stranger and you made me welcome” (Matt. 25,35). In his Bull for the Holy Year of Mercy, Pope Francis writes, “Let us open our eyes and see the misery of the world, the wounds of our brothers and sisters who are denied their dignity, and let us recognize that we are compelled to heed their cry for help! May we reach out to them and support them so they can feel the warmth of our presence, our friendship, and our fraternity!” (N. 15). Charity can also be stirred by the fate of people far away, especially when they come from the distance of the news as refugees to our neighbourhood.

The motto of the Katholikentag, which will take place from 25 to 29 May 2016 in Leipzig, leads us to another dimension of being compassionate. It is “Here is the man!”, in Latin: “Ecce homo!”. They are the famous words with which Pontius Pilate introduces Jesus to the crowd after He was brutally tortured, i.e. scourged (John 19:5). The man Jesus becomes a sacrifice for injustice and self-interest, of fanaticism and political circumstances. Someone who is human, who sees people, also sees the inhuman structures and can not stay out of politics. We lament the fate of our fellow Christians who are exposed to discrimination and persecution in Muslim and communist countries. No faith group is persecuted so much globally as Christians. In a free country we can and must raise our voices against intolerance and repression. We must also ask critically if Germany, shaped as it is by Christianity, is committed enough to the rights of our persecuted fellow Christians. The use of our freedom can not fall victim to political or economical interests. The Katholikentag in Leipzig should be a forum where the political consequences of the Gospel will be struggled with. I gladly invite you to participate. It is worth travelling to Leipzig for, even for one day.

You may perhaps have thought of a very different answer to the question, “What is being human?”, namely, “To err is human”. Another word for being human is ‘imperfect’. The wellknown sentence “To err is human” comes from the Roman philosopher Seneca, a contemporary of Jesus. From the Irish author Oscar Wilde comes the sentence: Everyone has a weakness and that only makes him human.” Both quotes remind us of the human characteristic of making mistakes, to not abide by the rules, even violating own principles. The Apostle Paul describes this human behaviour briefly and concisely in his Letter to the Romans: “The good thing I want to do, I never do; the evil thing which I do not want – that is what I do” (Rom. 7:19). Paul calls this the “law of sin” (Rom. 7:23). In the Holy Year of Mercy Pope Francis calls us to entrust ourselves to the mercy of God, with our tendencies and sins. In his Bull for the Holy Year of Mercy Pope Francis writes, “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” (N. 17). Dear sisters and brothers, I want to encourage you to receive the sacrament of Confession. I know that it is not easy to look at our own humanity and sins. There is also much that we can’t simply change from one day to the next. But when we accept our weaknesses and ignore our sins, nothing will change. When we, however, take a good look at them and express them in Confession, we hold them towards the mercy of the heavenly Father. We find that we have been accepted by God, we experience the liberation of a new beginning – and who knows: the mercy of Jesus transformed the greedy tax collector Zacchaeus, and he freely returned what he took unjustly.

“What is being human?” The answers to this question are twofold: imperfect and charitable. Our language indicates an inner connection: When we are and remain aware of our own imperfection, our understanding for and charity towards other people increases. As we rely on the mercy of God, we are prompted to show mercy towards other people. Especially in the land of Saint Elisabeth, the wish of the Holy Father, which he directs at all in his Bull for the Holy Year of Mercy, should find fertile ground: “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” (N. 15). You may find the works of mercy in Gotteslob, under number 29,3.

In the Elisabeth Year of 2007 the works of mercy were reformulated for us today in Thuringia:

  • You belong.
  • I listen to you.
  • I speak well about you.
  • I am travelling with you a while.
  • I share with you.
  • I visit you.
  • I pray for you.

Dear sisters and brothers, I wish you a blessed Lent in the Holy Year of Mercy and invoke over you all the blessing of God, the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.

Your bishop, Ulrich Neymeyr”

Guardian of unity – the papacy in Bishop Wiertz’s Lent message

In his message for Lent, which was read out in parishes in the Diocese of Roermond last weekend, Bishop Frans Wiertz discusses the importance of the papacy. It is a guardian of the unity of our Church, and as such it, and especially the way that Pope Francis fulfills his Petrine ministry, should serve as an example for the unity in our families, despite differing opinions and even arguments.

aa%20Staatsiefoto%20Mgr_%20Wiertz%201_06KLEIN“Brothers and sisters,

We often keep family photos on the walls of our living rooms. They are a sign of a close mutual bond. In churches and homes with a definitive Catholic identity a portrait of the Pope may often be found. As a sign of our close unity with him and, through him, with the inclusive “family bond” that we call Church.

Despite the solidarity in our families there are often tensions. As many opinions as there are people. Sometimes there are differences of opinion, various ideas, also abut very important matters. Mutual cohesion is sometimes at risk.

It is no different in the faith community of the Church. We still recall how much damage the polarisation of several decades ago has done to the Church’s credibility. The Church’s unity is one of the indispensable characteristics of the Church as intended by Jesus. Everything that detracts from that is a shame.

That is why the papacy, recently also often called the Petrine office, has such an important place in our Catholic faith community. To the Apostle Peter and his successors, the bishops of Rome, the Lord entrusted the task to watch over that unity. The Pope performs this duty in communion with the local bishops.

Peter was the first to officially make a confession of faith. He said to Jesus, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God”. He did not do so on his own, but out of the mercy of God. And Jesus answered him, “It was no human agency that revealed this to you but my Father in heaven.” (Matt. 16:16-17). This confession has become the foundation – the rock – on which the Church of Christ has been built.

This witness of Peter and his successors became the guarantee of a reliable body of faith. Through the ages until today. This can be emphasised once more, also in our own time: the Petrine office within the Church is the guardian of unity in doctrine and life. It is the touchstone on which the Church community can always reassess her truth and truthfulness.

We can be grateful for the Popes who in recent times have gone ahead of us as holy shepherds in the faith. Especially through the road map of the Second Vatican Council, they have piloted the ship of the Church on the right course; sometimes in tumultuous and stormy times. We can be especially thank God for the, in every way exemplary, shepherd which He has given us in Pope Francis.

We are living in a turning point of time. Distances and borders are disappearing because of globalisation. In all, especially technological, progress we can not be blind to the shadow sides of this new development. It seems as all material wealth is accompanied by a great spiritual emptiness and indiffirence. The process of secularisation continues and challenges us, as faith community, to a renewed evangelisation.

Amidst this difficult situation the words and actions of Pope Francis remain an example. Within the Church and far beyond it. Tirelessly the Pope proclaims his message of the merciful love of God day after day; in simple words which touch the hearts of people and which are drawn, without many detours, directly from the source of our faith itself: the Gospel of Jesus Christ. A proclamation which answers questions and problems of modern man; including with the teachings of the Church, especially her moral teachings.

Pope Francis avoids no question. He seeks an answers in the direct relationship with people in need, with the poor, where the Gospel of God’s  mercy is the first criterium. For that purpose, he goes unbeaten paths.

Not everyone in the Church is familiar with this approach. But Francis, the guardian of unity, continues his efforts to reform the Church. He looks for ways to achieve unity between the teaching that has been passed down and modern life. A difficult task, as he needs to take divergent religious and moral opinions in different cultures into account.

What matters in our families is not to avoid our questions, but – despite differences of opinion – to maintain the bond of solidarity. It is no different in the family that is the Church. Pope Francis guarantees unity.

In this Lent in the Holy Year of Mercy I ask your special prayer for Pope Francis. That he may continue leading our church with strength and wisdom; and that we – led by him as our shepherd – may follow, with conviction and of one mind.

+ Frans Wiertz,
Bishop of Roermond”

Kneeling before the child – Bishop Schwaderlapp strikes again

Bishop Dominikus Schwaderlapp does it again. Recently, he spoke about the erosion of faith, and in his homily for the feast of the Epiphany he outlines an attitude to counter that. Taking the example of the Magi, he explains the importance of kneveling; not just the physical action, but the inner attitude of faith it both signifies and nourishes.

Read the entire homily in the original German via the link above. I share the part in which Bishop Schwaderlapp discusses the concept of kneeling below.

schwaderlapp“”They found the child there, with his mother Mary, and fell down to worship him” (Matt. 2:11). The unified translation states that they “paid homage”, but that is too weak. This is about worship. The three Magi understood what even the Apostles understood only gradually. The child is not only just a child, but is at the same time also God. It is the God-man. They knelt before they child, and only before the child, dear sisters and brothers. They did not kneel for the power of Herod, but they avoided him and went back to their country by another way. They did not kneel for their wealth, but presented it as a gift for the divine child. And they did not kneel down for their own convenience, but went on their way to the God-child – an arduous way.

He who kneels before the child does not bow down for the powerful! He who kneels before the child does not bow down for wealth and its temptations! He who kneels before the child does not bind himself to his own selfishness!

“They fell down and worshipped him!” How is that with us? Dear sisters and brothers, it always depresses me a little, when now and then – unfortunately, more and more often – I notice in parishes that kneeling is seemingly out of fashion. And this new “fashion” does not end with the fulltime employees. A Belgian priest, who has been working in our diocese for decades, told me, “When we removed the kneelers in my country, the crisis really began”.

Dear sisters and brothers, kneeling by itself is no solution to any crisis, but without kneeling no crisis will be resolved! The Magi show us what it is about. It is about kneeling before the child, so that we do not bow down before all fears, powers and everything that depresses and holds us down, that we find in him the support and strength to tackle what can be tackled.

Let us ask ourselves: do we kneel? Do we do it again and again? Or do we too forget it? A priest or bishop is also not immune for this. It is easy to preach about kneed, piety and worship. And yet it is a great temptation, in the bustle of daily life, to pass by the manger of Bethlehem. Let Christ not be left out! Kneel down before him, for he is the source of everything that is new, the source of faith, source of comfort and source of truth.”

The faithful of Cologne would be loath to see their auxiliary bishop go, but in Aachen, Limburg and Dresden-Meißen they are looking for a new bishop…

God is inexhaustible love – Bishop de Korte’s letter for the Holy Year of Mercy

Perhaps in lieu of (or, as it may turn out, in addition to) his customary letter for Advent, Bishop Gerard de Korte has written a letter about the upcoming Holy Year of Mercy to the faithful of his diocese. In it, he writes about the importance of mercy as it is a fundamental element of the identity of God. He identifies two kinds of mercy – moral and social, and further divides the latter in three constituent elements or expressions: in our own lives, in the Church and in society. He concludes his letter by underlining the message of Pope Francis, as expressed in his encyclical Laudato Si’: that, by living mercy in these three contexts, we should work with others to build a society of mercy.

Read my translation below:

korte

“Brothers and sisters,

On 8 December, a Marian feast and also the date of the end of the Second Vatican Council fifty years ago, the Year of Mercy will begin in our Church. It is an invitation to look critically at how our parishes function, but also at our own existence. How merciful and mild do we treat one another? Do we mostly see what’s alien and strange in the other and do we mindlessly ignore the good? Do I give someone who has done wrong a new chance? Am I really willing to help when someone is in need?

Shortly after his election as bishop of Rome, Pope Francis gave an interview that was published in a number of magazines of the Jesuit Order. The Pope called himself a sinner called by the Lord. He referred to a painting by Caravaggio, depicting the calling of Matthew. Apparently our Pope recognises himself strongly in Matthew. As a tax collector, a despised collaborator of the Roman occupiers, he is invited to experience forgiveness and a new start. Christ meets him with merciful love and calls him to follow Him. Pope Francis lives from this some merciful love of Christ.

Office holders in the Church are especially invited to take a look in the mirror. Pope Francis recently quoted from an address by Church father Ambrose: “Where there is mercy, there is Christ; where there is rigidity, there are only officials”. This is an incisive word which everyone with a pastoral assignment in our faith community must consider seriously. In this context I would like to refer to the book Patience with God by the Czech priest Tomas Halik. A great number of people, within and without our Church, are like Zacchaeus in the tree from the Gospel. They are curious but also like to keep a distance. To get in touch with them requires pastoral prudence and mildness on the part of our officials.

In this letter I would like to zoom in on the word mercy, which for many of our contemporaries is probably somewhat old-fashioned and outdated. What is mercy actually? Maybe the Latin word for mercy, misericordia, can help us. A person with misericordia has a heart (‘cor‘)  for people in distress (‘miseri‘):  sinner, the poor, the grieving, the sink and lonely people. The Hebrew word for mercy is not so much concerned with the heart, but with the intestines. A person with mercy is touched to the depths of his belly by the needs of the other.

God is a merciful God

In Holy Scripture we often hear about the mercy of God. Even until today the Exodus, the departure from slavery in Egypt and the arrival in the promised land, is for the Jewish people a central topic of faith.

God has seen the misery of His people in Egypt and had compassion with His people (Exodus 3). Elsewhere in the book of Exodus we read, “God of tenderness and compassion, slow to anger, rich in faithful love and constancy” (cf. Exodus 34,6). For Israel the Lord is supportive mercy, making life possible.

The history of ancient Israel is a history of loyalty and infidelity. The decline of the Northern Kingdom in the 8th century and of Judah and Jerusalem in the 6th century BC has been interpreted by the Jewish people as punishment for sins. The people as bride have been unfaithful to the divine bridegroom. But punishment is never God’s final word. The prophet Hosea writes that God does not come in anger (cf. Hosea 11). In God, mercy is victorious over His justice[*]. Ultimately there is forgiveness and a merciful approach.

In the letter in which he announces the Year of Mercy, Pope Francis calls Christ the face of God’s mercy (‘misericordiae vultus‘). In Him God’s great love for man (‘humanitas dei‘) (Titus 3:4) has become visible. The great Protestant theologian Oepke Noordmans published a beautiful collection in 1946, with the title “Sinner and beggar”. In it, Noordmans touches upon the two most important dimensions of God’s mercy. Not only moral mercy but also social mercy. In Christ, God is full of merciful love for both sinners and beggars.

Moral and social mercy

God’s moral mercy is depicted most impressively, as far as I can see, in the parable of the Prodigal Son. A son demands his inheritance from his father, who yet lives, and wastes the money on all sorts of things that God has forbidden, In the end he literally ends up among the pigs. To Jewish ears this is even more dramatic than to us, since in Judaism pigs are, after all, unclean animals. In this situation, there occurs a reversal. The son memorises a confession of guilt and returns to his father. In the parable we read that the father is already looking for his son and, even before the confession has been spoken, he embraces him. Here we find what Saint Paul calls the justification of the Godless man. God is as “foolish” as the father in the parable. It is the foolishness of merciful love. God is inexhaustible love and gives his son a new chance, even when he has turned away from Him (cf. Luke 5:11 etc).

Social mercy is depicted sublimely in the parable on the Good Samaritan. A man is attacked by robbers and lies on the side of the road, half dead. Several people from the temple pass by, but they do not help. Then a stranger passes, a Samaritan who many Jews look upon with a certain amount of negative feelings. But this distrusted person acts. He becomes a neighbour to the person lying on the side of the road. He treats his wounds and lets him recover in an inn, on his costs. The Church fathers, theologians from the early Church, have seen Christ himself in the person of the Samaritan. He comes with His merciful love to everyone lying at the side of the road of life. Christ has gone the way  of mercy until the end. He lives for His Father and His neighbour until the cross. In this way, Christ shows that He has a heart for people in misery: the poor, sinners, people dedicated to death (cf. Luke 10:25 etc).

Is God merciful to all?

We are all temporary people. None of us here on earth has eternal life. Sooner or later death will come and take life away. In that context we could wonder what we can hope for. Are we like rockets burning up in space or can we look forward to returning home? Over the course of Church history this has been discussed both carefully and generously. Not the most insignificant theologians, such as Augustine and Thomas Aquinas, were in the more careful camp, with the Scripture passage in mind which says that “many are called, but few are chosen”. There was also another sound in the early Church. The theologian Origen was so filled with God’s love that he could not imagine that anyone could be lost. The Church, however, based on the witness of Scripture, has denied this vision. There are too many passages in Holy Scripture which leave open the possibility of being definitively lost.

In our time, however, our Church is generally  optimistic regarding salvation. God’s  desire to save does not exclude, but include human freedom. God’s hand is and remains extended to all. Only God knows who takes this hand. Not without reason do we pray, in one of our Eucharistic prayer, for those “whose faith only You have known.” God’s mercy maintains its primacy. Christ has, after all, died for all men. God is loyal and the cross and resurrection of Christ can be a source of hope for us all. In other words: God takes our responsibility seriously, but I hope that He takes His love even more seriously.

Culture of mercy

God’s mercy requires a human answer, a culture of mercy. Here we can discern at least three dimensions: personal, ecclesiastical and social. In our personal life we are called to love God and our neighbour. But we know that cracks continue to develop in relationships. People insult and hurt each other. The Gospel then calls us to forgiveness.  Scripture even suggests we should postpone our worship when there are fractures in how we relate to our fellows (cf. Matthew 5:24).  Forgiveness can always be unilateral. But both parties involved in a conflict are necessary for reconciliation. Christ does not only ask us for merciful love for our loved ones, but also for our enemies. We realise that this can only be realised in the power of God’s  Spirit, and even then often by trial and error.

Merciful faith community

In one of our prefaces the Church is called the mirror of God’s kindness. In our time we notice a crisis in the Church. Many contemporaries have become individualists because of higher education and prosperity. This individualism also has an effect in the attitude towards the Church. Many people do believe, but in an individualistic way and think they do not need the faith community. Added to that is the fact that the Church suffers from a negative image. More thana  few see the Church as institute that restricts freedom. Many think that the Church demands much and allows nothing.

As people of the Church we should not immediately get defensive. Criticism on our faith community invites us to critical reflection of ourselves. Do we really live the truth in love? Do we really care for and serve each other? A Christian community will not restrict people but promote their development into free children of God (cf. Romans 8:21).

We can see the Eucharist as the ultimate sacrament of God’s merciful love. Time and again the outpouring love of Christ is actualised and made present in the Eucharist. About Communion, Pope Francis has said words which are cause to think. According to him, Communion is not a reward for the a holy life, but a medicine to heal wounded people. The mercy of the Church also becomes visible in the sacrament of penance and reconciliation, or confession. For many reasons this sacrament has almost been forgotten in our country. At the same time I hear that in some parishes especially young people are rediscovering this sacrament. I hope that the Year of Mercy can make a contribution to a further rediscovery of the sacrament of God’s  merciful love for people who fail.

Ecclesiastical mercy is of course also visible in all form of charity. Everywhere where Christians visit sick and prisoners, help people who are hungry or thirsty, cloth the naked or take in strangers, the ‘works of mercy’ become visible (cf. Matthew 25:31 etc).

Merciful society

After the Second World War Catholics took part in the rebuilding of a solid welfare state. After the crisis years of the 1930s and the horrors of the war, there was a broad desire among our people for the realisation of a security of existence. Catholic social thought, with the core notions of human dignity, solidarity, public good and subsidiarity, has inspired many in our Church to get to work enthusiastically. After all, although the Church is not of the world, it is for the world.

But in our days there is much talk of converting the welfare state into a participation state. Of course it is important that people are stimulated optimally to contribute to the building of society. But at the same time government should maintain special attention for the needs of the margins of society. Not without reason does Christian social thought call government a “shield for the weak”.

In June Pope Francis published his encyclical Laudato Si’. Here, the Pope ask attention for our earth as our common home. Catholics are asked to cooperate with other Christians, people of other faiths and all “people of good will”. The Pope urges us to join our religious and ethical forces to realise a more just and sustainable world. With a reference to St. Francis’ Canticle of the Sun our Pope pleads for a new ecological spirituality in which our connection with the Creator not only leads to a mild and merciful relation with our fellow men, but also with other creatures.

In closing

We all live from the inexhaustible merciful love of our God, as has become visible in Jesus Christ. Let us in our turn, in the power of God’s Spirit, give form to this love in our relationships with each other, in our faith communities and in our society. In this way we can make an important contribution to the building of a “culture of mercy”.

Groningen, 22 November 2015
Solemnity of Christ, King of the Universe

+ Msgr. Dr. Gerard De Korte
Bishop of Groningen-Leeuwarden”

*As an aside, not to distract from the overall message of the bishop’s letter: I am sorry to see this line here in such a way, as if there is a conflict between mercy and justice, in which one should be victorious over the other. Mercy without justice is no mercy at all, as it is deceitful. How can be kind and merciful to others if we keep the truth from them? The truth and its consequences must be acknowledged and accepted in mercy, so that we can help others living in that truth, even if they sometimes fail (as we eventually all do).