Homily of His Holiness Benedict XVI
during a Mass of Possession of the
Chair
of the Bishop of Rome

Basilica of St John Lateran
Saturday, 7 May 2005

Today,
when I can sit for the first time on the
Chair of the Bishop of Rome as
Successor of Peter, is the day on which the
Church in Italy celebrates
the Feast of the Ascension of the Lord. At the centre of this day we
find Christ. And it is also only thanks to
Him, thanks to the
mystery of
His Ascension, that we can understand the significance of the Chair,
which in turn is the symbol of the Bishop's power and
responsibility.
So what does the Feast of the Ascension of the Lord mean
for us? It does not mean that the Lord has departed to some place
far
from people and from the world. Christ's Ascension is
not a journey into
space toward the most remote stars; for basically, the planets, like the
earth, are also made of physical elements.
Christ's Ascension means that
He no longer belongs to
the world of corruption and
death that conditions our life.
It means
that He belongs entirely to God.
He, the Eternal Son, led our
human
existence into God's presence, taking with
Him flesh and
blood in a
transfigured form.
The human being finds room in
God; through
Christ, the human being was introduced into the very life of
God. And since
God
embraces and sustains the entire cosmos, the Ascension of the Lord means
that Christ has not departed from us, but that
He is now, thanks to
His
being with the Father, close to each one of us
forever. Each one of us
can be on intimate terms with Him; each can call upon
Him. The
Lord is
always within hearing. We can inwardly draw away from
Him. We can live
turning our backs on Him. But
He always waits for us and is always close
to us.
From the readings of today's liturgy we also learn
something more about the concrete way the Lord makes
Himself close to
us. The Lord promises the disciples
His Holy Spirit. The
first reading
that we heard tells us that the Holy Spirit will give "power" to the
disciples; the Gospel adds that He will guide them to the
whole truth.
As the living Word of God,
Jesus told
His disciples everything, and God
can give no more than Himself. In
Jesus, God gave us
His whole self,
that is, He gave us everything. As well as or together with this, there
can be no other revelation which can communicate more or in some way
complete the Revelation of Christ. In
Him, in the
Son, all has been said
to us, all has been given.
But our understanding is limited: thus, the
Spirit's
mission is to introduce the Church, in an ever new way from
generation
to generation, into the greatness of Christ's
mystery. The
Spirit places
nothing different or new beside Christ;
no pneumatic revelation comes
with the revelation of Christ - as some say -,
no second level of
Revelation.
No: "He will have received from
Me...", Christ says in
the Gospel (John 16:14). And as Christ says only what
He hears and
receives from the Father, thus the
Holy Spirit is the interpreter of
Christ. "He will have received from
Me". He does not lead us to other
places, far from Christ, but takes us further and further into
Christ's
light. Consequently, Christian Revelation is both ever
old and new.
Thus, all things are and always have been given to us. At the same time,
every generation, in the inexhaustible encounter with the
Lord - an
encounter mediated by the Holy Spirit - always learns something new.
The Holy Spirit, therefore, is the
power through which
Christ causes us to experience
His closeness. But the
first reading also
has something else to say: You will be My witnesses. The
Risen Christ
needs witnesses who have met Him, people who have known
Him intimately
through the power of the Holy Spirit; those who have, so to speak,
actually touched Him, can witness to
Him.
It is in this way that the Church, the family of
Christ,
"beginning at Jerusalem"..., as the
Reading says, spread to the very
ends of the earth. It is through witnesses that the
Church was built -
starting with Peter and Paul and the Twelve, to the point of including
all who, filled with Christ, have rekindled down the
centuries and will
rekindle the flame of faith in a way that is ever new. All
Christians in
their own way can and must be witnesses of the Risen Lord.
When we read the saints' names we can see how often they
have been - and continue to be - first and foremost simple people from
whom shone - and shines - a radiant light that can lead others to
Christ.
But this chorus of witnesses is also endowed with a
clearly defined structure: the successors of the Apostles, the Bishops,
who are publicly responsible for ensuring that the network of these
witnesses survives. The power and
grace required for this service are
conferred upon Bishops through the sacrament of Episcopal Ordination. In
this network of witnesses, the Successor of Peter has a special task. It
was Peter who, on the Apostles' behalf, made the
first profession of
faith: "You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God" (Matthew 16:16).
This is the task of all Peter's Successors: to be the
guide in the profession of faith in
Christ, Son of the living God. The
Chair of Rome is above all the Seat of this belief. From high up on this
Chair the Bishop of Rome is constantly bound to repeat:
Dominus Iesus - "Jesus is Lord", as
Paul wrote in his Letters to the
Romans (10:9) and to the Corinthians (1Corinthians 12:3). To the
Corinthians
he stressed: "Even though there are so-called gods in the heavens and on
the earth... for us there is one God, the Father... and one Lord Jesus
Christ, through Whom everything was made and through Whom we live" (1Corinthians 8: 5).
The Chair of Peter obliges all who hold it to say, as
Peter said during a crisis time among the disciples when so many wanted
to leave Him: "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal
life. We have come to believe; we are convinced that You are God's Holy
One" (John 6:68 ff.).
The one who sits on the Chair of Peter must remember the
Lord's words to
Simon Peter at the Last Supper: "...You in turn must strengthen your
brothers" (Luke 22:32). The one who holds the office of the
Petrine
ministry must be aware that he is a frail and
weak human being - just as
his own powers are frail and
weak - and is
constantly in need of
purification and
conversion.
But he can also be aware that the
power to strengthen
his brethren in the faith and keep them united in the confession of the
Crucified and
Risen Christ comes from the Lord. In
St Paul's First
Letter to the Corinthians, we find the oldest account we have of the
Resurrection. Paul faithfully received it from the witnesses. This
account first speaks of Christ's
death for our
sins, of His
burial and
of His Resurrection which took place the
third day, and
then says:
"[Christ] was seen by Cephas, then by the Twelve..." (1Corinthians 15:4).
Thus, the importance of the mandate conferred upon Peter to the
end of
time is summed up: being a witness of the Risen Christ.
The Bishop of Rome sits upon the Chair to bear witness
to Christ. Thus, the Chair is the symbol of the
potestas docendi,
the power to teach that is an essential part of the mandate of binding
and loosing which the Lord conferred on
Peter, and after him, on the
Twelve. In the Church, Sacred Scripture, the understanding of which
increases under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, and the ministry of
its authentic interpretation that was conferred upon the Apostles, are
indissolubly bound. Whenever Sacred Scripture is separated from the
living voice of the Church, it falls
prey to disputes among experts.
Of course, all they have to tell us is important and
invaluable; the work of scholars is a considerable help in understanding
the living process in which the Scriptures developed, hence, also in
grasping their historical richness.
Yet science alone cannot provide us with a definitive
and binding interpretation; it is unable to offer us, in its
interpretation, that certainty with which we can live and for which we
can even die. A greater mandate is necessary for this, which cannot
derive from human abilities alone. The voice of the living
Church is
essential for this, of the Church entrusted until the
end of time to
Peter and to the College of the Apostles.
This power of teaching frightens many people in and
outside the Church. They wonder whether
freedom of
conscience is
threatened or whether it is a presumption opposed to
freedom of thought.
It is not like this. The power that Christ conferred upon
Peter and his
successors is, in an absolute sense, a mandate to serve. The power of
teaching in the Church involves a commitment to the service of
obedience
to the faith. The Pope is
not an absolute monarch whose thoughts and
desires are law. On the contrary: the Pope's ministry is a
guarantee of
obedience to Christ and to
His Word. He must not proclaim his own ideas,
but rather constantly bind himself and the Church to
obedience to
God's
Word, in the face of every attempt to adapt it or water it down, and
every form of opportunism.
Pope John Paul II did this when, in front of all
attempts, apparently benevolent to the human person, and in the face of
erroneous interpretations of freedom, he unequivocally stressed the
inviolability of the human being and of
human life from the moment of
conception until natural death. The
freedom to kill is not
true freedom,
but a tyranny that
reduces the
human being to
slavery.
The Pope knows that in his important decisions, he is
bound to the great community of faith of all times, to the binding
interpretations that have developed throughout the
Church's pilgrimage.
Thus, his power is not being above, but at the service of, the
Word of
God. It is incumbent upon him to ensure that this
Word continues to be
present in its greatness and to resound in its purity, so that
it is not
torn to pieces by continuous changes in usage.
The Chair is - let us say it again - a symbol of the
power of teaching, which is a power of obedience and service, so that
the Word of God - the
truth! - may shine out among us and show us the way
of life.
But in speaking of the Chair of the Bishop of Rome, how
can we forget St Ignatius of Antioch's words addressed to the Romans?
Peter came from Antioch, his first
See, to Rome, his permanent See. His
martyrdom decreed that he stay here definitively and bound his
succession to Rome forever.
Ignatius, for his part, while remaining Bishop of
Antioch, was also heading for the martyrdom that he was to
suffer in
Rome. In his Letter to the Romans, he refers to the
Church of Rome as
"She who presides in love", a deeply meaningful phrase. We do not know
with any certainty what Ignatius may have had in mind when he used these
words. But for the ancient Church, the word
love,
agape, referred
to the mystery of the
Eucharist. In this
mystery, Christ's love becomes
permanently tangible among us. Here, again and again
He gives Himself.
Here, again and again His heart is
pierced; here
He keeps His promise,
the promise which, from the Cross, was to attract all things to
Himself.
In the Eucharist, we ourselves learn
Christ's love. It
was thanks to this centre and heart, thanks to the
Eucharist, that the
saints lived, bringing to the world God's love in ever new ways and
forms. Thanks to the Eucharist, the
Church is reborn ever anew! The
Church is none other than that network - the
Eucharistic community! -
within which all of us, receiving the same Lord, become
one body and
embrace all the world.
Presiding in doctrine and presiding in
love must in the
end be one and the same: the whole of the Church's teaching leads
ultimately to love. And the Eucharist, as the
love of
Jesus Christ
present, is the criterion for all teaching. On love the
whole law is
based, and the prophets as well, the Lord says (cf.
Matthew 22:40).
Love is
the fulfillment of the law, St Paul wrote to the Romans (cf. 13:10).
Amen

Pope Benedict XVI
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