…The Transfiguration of Christ is the culminating point of His public life, as His Baptism is its starting point, and His Ascension its end. Moreover, this glorious event has been related in detail by St. Matthew (17:1-6), St. Mark (9:1-8), and St. Luke (9:28-36), while St. Peter (2 Peter 1:16-18) and St. John (1:14), two of the privileged witnesses, make allusion to it.

About a week after His sojourn in Cæsarea Philippi, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John and led them to a high mountain apart, where He was transfigured before their ravished eyes. St. Matthew and St. Mark express this phenomenon by the word metemorphothe, which the Vulgate renders transfiguratus est. The Synoptics explain the true meaning of the word by adding “his face did shine as the sun: and his garments became white as snow,” according to the Vulgate, or “as light,” according to the Greek text.

This dazzling brightness which emanated from His whole Body was produced by an interior shining of His Divinity. False Judaism had rejected the Messias, and now true Judaism, represented by Moses and Elias, the Law and the Prophets, recognized and adored Him, while for the second time God the Father proclaimed Him His only-begotten and well-loved Son. By this glorious manifestation the Divine Master, who had just foretold His Passion to the Apostles (Matthew 16:21), and who spoke with Moses and Elias of the trials which awaited Him at Jerusalem, strengthened the faith of his three friends and prepared them for the terrible struggle of which they were to be witnesses in Gethsemani, by giving them a foretaste of the glory and heavenly delights to which we attain by suffering.

Lectio:

Sunday, February 24, 2013 – 10

The Transfiguration of Jesus
A new way of fulfilling the prophecies
Luke 9:28-36

1. Opening prayer

Lord Jesus, send your Spirit to help us read the Scriptures with the same mind that you read them to the disciples on the way to Emmaus. In the light of the Word, written in the Bible, you helped them to discover the presence of God in the disturbing events of your sentence and death. Thus, the cross that seemed to be the end of all hope became for them the source of life and of resurrection.
Create in us silence so that we may listen to your voice in Creation and in the Scriptures, in events and in people, above all in the poor and suffering. May your word guide us so that we too, like the two disciples from Emmaus, may experience the force of your resurrection and witness to others that you are alive in our midst as source of fraternity, justice and peace. We ask this of you, Jesus, son of Mary, who revealed to us the Father and sent us your Spirit. Amen.

2. Reading

a) A key to the reading:

A few days earlier, Jesus had said that he, the Son of Man, had to be tried and crucified by the authorities (Lk 9:22; Mk 8:31). According to the information in the Gospels of Mark and Matthew, the disciples, especially Peter, did not understand what Jesus had said and were scandalised by the news (Mt 16:22; Mk 8:32). Jesus reacted strongly and turned to Peter calling him Satan (Mt 16:23; Mk 8:33). This was because Jesus’ words did not correspond with the ideal of the glorious Messiah whom they imagined. Luke does not mention Peter’s reaction and Jesus’ strong reply, but he does describe, as do the other Evangelists, the episode of the Transfiguration. Luke sees the Transfiguration as an aid to the disciples so that they may be able to overcome the scandal and change their idea of the Messiah (Lk 9:28-36). Taking with him the three disciples, Jesus goes up the mountain to pray and, while he is praying, is transfigured. As we read the text, it is good to note what follows: “Who appears with Jesus on the mountain to converse with him? What is the theme of their conversation? What is the disciples’ attitude?”

b) A division of the text as an aid to the reading:

i) Luke 9:28: The moment of crisis
ii) Luke 9:29: The change that takes place during the prayer
iii) Luke 9:30-31: The appearance of the two men and their conversation with Jesus
iv) Luke 9:32-34: The disciples’ reaction
v) Luke 9:35-36: The Father’s voice

c) The text:

28 Now about eight days after these sayings he took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. 29 And as he was praying, the appearance of his countenance was altered, and his raiment became dazzling white. 30 And behold, two men talked with him, Moses and Elijah, 31 who appeared in glory and spoke of his departure, which he was to accomplish at Jerusalem. 32 Now Peter and those who were with him were heavy with sleep, and when they wakened they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. 33 And as the men were parting from him, Peter said to Jesus, “Master, it is well that we are here; let us make three booths, one for you and one for Moses and one for Elijah” – not knowing what he said. 34 As he said this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were afraid as they entered the cloud. 35 And a voice came out of the cloud, saying, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” 36 And when the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silence and told no one in those days anything of what they had seen.

3. A moment of prayerful silence

so that the Word of God may penetrate and enlighten our life.

4. Some questions

to help us in our personal reflection.

a) What pleased you most in this episode of the Transfiguration? Why?
b) Who are those who go to the mountain with Jesus? Why do they go?
c) Moses and Elijah appear on the mountain next to Jesus. What is the significance of these two persons from the Old Testament for Jesus, for the disciples for the community in the 80s? And for us today?
d) Which prophecy from the Old Testament is fulfilled in the words of the Father concerning Jesus?
e) What is the attitude of the disciples during this episode?
f) Has there been a transfiguration in your life? How have such experiences of transfiguration helped you to fulfil your mission better?
g) Compare Luke’s description of the Transfiguration of Jesus (Lk 9:28-36) with his description of the agony of Jesus in the Garden (Lk 22:39-46). Try to see whether there are any similarities. What is the significance of these similarities?

5. A key to the reading

for those who wish to go deeper into the theme.

a) The context of Jesus’ discourse:

In the two previous chapters of Luke’s Gospel, the innovation brought by Jesus stands out and tensions between the New and the Old grow. In the end, Jesus realised that no one had understood his meaning and much less his person. People thought that he was like John the Baptist, Elijah or some old prophet (Lk 9:18-19). The disciples accepted him as the Messiah, but a glorious Messiah, according to the propaganda issued by the government and the official religion of the Temple (Lk 9:20-21). Jesus tried to explain to his disciples that the journey foreseen by the prophets was one of suffering because of its commitment to the excluded and that a disciple could only be a disciple if he/she took up his/her cross (Lk 9:22-26). But he did not meet with much success. It is in such a context of crisis that the Transfiguration takes place.
In the 30s, the experience of the Transfiguration had a very important significance in the life of Jesus and of the disciples. It helped them overcome the crisis of faith and to change their ideals concerning the Messiah. In the 80s, when Luke was writing for the Christian communities in Greece, the meaning of the Transfiguration had already been deepened and broadened. In the light of Jesus’ resurrection and of the spread of the Good News among the pagans in almost every country, from Palestine to Italy, the experience of the Transfiguration began to be seen as a confirmation of the faith of the Christian communities in Jesus, Son of God. The two meanings are present in the description and interpretation of the Transfiguration in Luke’s Gospel.

b) A commentary on the text:

Luke 9:28: The moment of crisis
On several occasions Jesus entered into conflict with the people and the religious and civil authorities of his time (Lk 4:28-29; 5:21-20; 6:2-11; 7:30.39; 8:37; 9,9). He knew they would not allow him to do the things he did. Sooner or later they would catch him. Besides, in that society, the proclamation of the Kingdom, as Jesus did, was not to be tolerated. He either had to withdraw or face death! There were no other alternatives. Jesus did not withdraw. Hence the cross appears on the horizon, not just as a possibility but as a certainty (Lk 9:22). Together with the cross there appears also the temptation to go on with the idea of the Glorious Messiah and not of the Crucified, suffering servant, announced by the Prophet Isaiah (Mk 8:32-33). At this difficult moment Jesus goes up the mountain to pray, taking with him Peter, James and John. Through his prayer, Jesus seeks strength not to lose sense of direction in his mission (cf. Mk 1:35).

Luke 9:29: The change that takes place during the prayer
As soon as Jesus starts praying, his appearance changes and he appears glorious. His face changes and his clothes become white and shining. It is the glory that the disciples imagined for the Messiah. This transformation told them clearly that Jesus was indeed the Messiah expected by all. But what follows the episode of the Transfiguration will point out that the way to glory is quite different from what they imagined. The transfiguration will be a call to conversion.

Luke 9:30-31: Two men appear speaking with Jesus
Together with Jesus and in the same glorious state there appear Moses and Elijah, the two major exponents of the Old Testament, representing the Law and the Prophets. They speak with Jesus about “the Exodus brought to fulfilment in Jerusalem”. Thus, in front of the disciples, the Law and the Prophets confirm that Jesus is truly the glorious Messiah, promised in the Old Testament and awaited by the whole people. They further confirm that the way to Glory is through the painful way of the exodus. Jesus’ exodus is his passion, death and resurrection. Through his “exodus” Jesus breaks the dominion of the false idea concerning the Messiah spread by the government and by the official religion and that held all ensnared in the vision of a glorious, nationalistic messiah. The experience of the Transfiguration confirmed that Jesus as Messiah Servant constituted an aid to free them from their wrong ideas concerning the Messiah and to discover the real meaning of the Kingdom of God.

Luke 9:32-34: The disciples’ reaction
The disciples were in deep sleep. When they woke up, the saw Jesus in his glory and the two men with him. But Peter’s reaction shows that they were not aware of the real meaning of the glory in which Jesus appeared to them. As often happens with us, they were only aware of what concerned them. The rest escapes their attention. “Master, it is good for us to be here!” And they do not want to get off the mountain any more! When it is question of the cross, whether on the Mount of the Transfiguration or on the Mount of Olives (Lk 22:45), they sleep! They prefer the Glory to the Cross! They do not like to speak or hear of the cross. They want to make sure of the moment of glory on the mountain, and they offer to build three tents. Peter did not know what he was saying.
While Peter was speaking, a cloud descended from on high and covered them with its shadow. Luke says that the disciples became afraid when the cloud enfolded them. The cloud is the symbol of the presence of God. The cloud accompanied the multitude on their journey through the desert (Ex 40: 34-38; Nm 10:11-12). When Jesus ascended into heaven, he was covered by a cloud and they no longer saw him (Acts 1:9). This was a sign that Jesus had entered forever into God’s world.

Luke 9:35-36: The Father’s voice
A voice is heard from the cloud that says: “This is my Son, the Chosen, listen to him”. With this same sentence the prophet Isaiah had proclaimed the Messiah-Servant (Is 42:1). First Moses and Elijah, now God himself presents Jesus as the Messiah-Servant who will come to glory through the cross. The voice ends with a final admonition: “Listen to him!” As the heavenly voice speaks, Moses and Elijah disappear and only Jesus is left. This signifies that from now on only He will interpret the Scriptures and the will of God. He is the Word of God for the disciples: “Listen to him!”
The proclamation “This is my Son, the Chosen; listen to him” was very important for the community of the late 80s. Through this assertion God the Father confirmed the faith of Christians in Jesus as Son of God. In Jesus’ time, that is, in the 30s, the expression Son of Man pointed to a very high dignity and mission. Jesus himself gave a relative meaning to the term by saying that all were children of God (cf. John 10:33-35). But for some the title Son of God became a resume of all titles, over one hundred that the first Christians gave Jesus in the second half of the first century. In succeeding centuries, it was the title of Son of God that the Church concentrated all its faith in the person of Jesus.

c) A deepening:

i) The Transfiguration is told in three of the Gospels: Matthew (Mt 17:1-9), Mark (Mk 9:2-8) and Luke (Lk 9:28-36). This is a sign that this episode contained a very important message. As we said, it was a matter of great help to Jesus, to his disciples and to the first communities. It confirmed Jesus in his mission as Messiah-Servant. It helped the disciples to overcome the crisis that the cross and suffering caused them. It led the communities to deepen their faith in Jesus, Son of God, the One who revealed the Father and who became the new key to the interpretation of the Law and the Prophets. The Transfiguration continues to be of help in overcoming the crisis that the cross and suffering provoke today. The three sleeping disciples are a reflection of all of us. The voice of the Father is directed to us as it was to them: “This is my Son, the Chosen; listen to him!”

ii) In Luke’s Gospel there is a great similarity between the scene of the Transfiguration (Lk 9:28-36) and the scene of the agony of Jesus in the Garden of Olives (Lk 22:39-46). We may note the following: in both scenes Jesus goes up the mountain to pray and takes with him three disciples, Peter, James and John. On both occasions, Jesus’ appearance is transformed and he is transfigured before them; glorious at the Transfiguration, perspiring blood in the Garden of Olives. Both times heavenly figures appear to comfort him, Moses and Elijah and an angel from heaven. Both in the Transfiguration and in the Agony, the disciples sleep, they seem to be outside the event and they seem not to understand anything. At the end of both episodes, Jesus is reunited with his disciples. Doubtless, Luke intended to emphasise the resemblance between these two episodes. What would that be? It is in meditating and praying that we shall succeed in understanding the meaning that goes beyond words, and to perceive the intention of the author. The Holy Spirit will guide us.

iii) Luke describes the Transfiguration. There are times in our life when suffering is such that we might think: “God has abandoned me! He is no longer with me!” And then suddenly we realise that He has never deserted us, but that we had our eyes bandaged and were not aware of the presence of God. Then everything is changed and transfigured. It is the transfiguration! This happens every day in our lives.

6. Psalm 42 (41)

“My soul thirsts for the living God!”

As a hart longs for flowing streams,
so longs my soul for thee, O God.
My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.
When shall I come and behold the face of God?

My tears have been my food day and night,
while men say to me continually, “Where is your God?”
These things I remember, as I pour out my soul:
how I went with the throng,
and led them in procession to the house of God,
with glad shouts and songs of thanksgiving,
a multitude keeping festival.

Why are you cast down, O my soul,
and why are you disquieted within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,
my help and my God.
My soul is cast down within me,
therefore I remember thee from the land of Jordan
and of Hermon, from Mount Mizar.
Deep calls to deep at the thunder of thy cataracts;
all thy waves and thy billows have gone over me.

By day the Lord commands his steadfast love;
and at night his song is with me,
a prayer to the God of my life.
I say to God, my rock:
“Why hast thou forgotten me?
Why go I mourning because of the oppression of the enemy?”
As with a deadly wound in my body,
my adversaries taunt me,
while they say to me continually,
“Where is your God?”

Why are you cast down, O my soul,
and why are you disquieted within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,
my help and my God.

7. Final Prayer

Lord Jesus, we thank for the word that has enabled us to understand better the will of the Father. May your Spirit enlighten our actions and grant us the strength to practice that which your Word has revealed to us. May we, like Mary, your mother, not only listen to but also practise the Word. You who live and reign with the Father in the unity of the Holy Spirit forever and ever. Amen.

Letter to Priests for the beginning of Lent

13 February 2013

Ash Wednesday

Dearest Priests,

Lent is a time of grace during which the Church invites all her children to prepare to better understand and receive the meaning and the fruits of the sacrifice of Our Lord Jesus Christ in the mystery of His Passion, Death and Resurrection: “The spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me, because the LORD has anointed me; He has sent me to bring glad tidings to the lowly, to heal the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives and release to the prisoners, to announce a year of favour from the LORD” (Isa 61:1-2). The ‘time of grace’ is the time when God the Father, in His infinite mercy, bestows upon all people of good will, through the Holy Spirit, all the spiritual and material  which makes us strive to become totally and completely like the Son: “We know that all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose. For those he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son” (Rom 8:28-29). In order for this to be possible, He wants to dwell in our life, and even more so He wishes for us to be transfigured to the point that, we could say, those who see us can glimpse – in our thoughts and actions – the traits of Jesus: “I have been crucified with Christ; yet I live, no longer I, but Christ lives in me; insofar as I now live in the flesh, I live by faith in the Son of God who has loved me and given himself up for me. I do not nullify the grace of God” (Gal 2:19-21).

The episode of the baptism in the Jordan River (Mt 3:13-17; Mk 1:9-11; Lk 3:21-22; Jn 1:29-32), followed by the experience of forty days in the desert “to be tempted by the devil” (Mt 4:1), invites us to think that in order to walk securely along the path to holiness and to gather the fruits of the treasures of graces bestowed by the Spirit we must conquer a receptiveness and a fertility that is not a given but, on the contrary, is constantly threatened by the wound of sin, and must be conquered day after day. The penitential commitment, therefore, does not, in and of itself, guarantee our salvation, but it is nevertheless an essential condition in order for it to be attained: “You have no need of our praise, yet our thanksgiving is itself your gift, since our praises add nothing to your greatness but profit us for salvation, through Christ our Lord” (Roman Missal, Common Preface IV). God Himself contributes, through the difficulties of human existence (which He intentionally did not want to spare His beloved Son), to the necessary purification of our mind, will and actions for our greater good: “I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine grower. He takes away every branch in me that does not bear fruit, and everyone that does he prunes so that it bears more fruit” (Jn 15:1).

For a minister of God, all of this must have a very special importance. Not because the priest is called to “set a good example” – “Thus I do not run aimlessly; I do not fight as if I were shadowboxing. No, I drive my body and train it, for fear that, after having preached to others, I myself should be disqualified” (1Cor 9:26-27) – but for a much deeper theological and supernatural reason. In fact, the priest is called not only to administer the divine grace and to carry on Jesus’ mission, as we await His coming. Indeed, he is not just a clerk dealing in spiritual matters. As we gather from the aforementioned passage from the letter to the Galatians, he is called, in spite of his weaknesses, to relive in his being, flesh and blood, the very being of Christ, who becomes the sacrificial lamb, victim of love.

Some may think it is wrongly reductive to say that what characterizes the priest above all other things is the fact that he celebrates Holy Mass.  That is surely not his sole activity but we can certainly say that it is the only one by means of which the mystery of the priest-alter Christus, who at once sacrifices and sacrifices himself, acquires meaning and is accomplished in the highest and most effective way. The power of the sacrament of Eucharist, in fact, transforms the Church in the image of its Groom, starting from those who are the primary figures and Mystery, sign and reality of that Groom. We can surely say that that is what makes a priest great. Not the extent of his culture, or his pastoral skills, or pious spirit, which are all necessary and require a preparation and care that makes no room for mediocrity. But nothing compares with his mysterious participation in Christ’s sacrifice.  This participation is expressed not by the minister’s actions as much as by his being. Consequently, the celebration of Holy Mass by the priest cannot be regarded just as a practice of worship, thanksgiving, intercession, atonement, like any other moment of prayer or penitential practice. It is in every way the very life and reason for being of the Christian priesthood, the actual “breath” of those who, through the sacrament of Holy Orders, are indissolubly and eternally bound to Him who made Himself a gift of love with all of His strength: “Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example that you should follow in his footsteps” (1Pet 2:21).

May this time of Lent be for all priests a time of penance and purification, of mercy given and received, but even more so a time in which you may rediscover, in the daily celebration of Holy Mass, the importance of your relationship with the Eucharist, and rediscover that relationship itself, because the Eucharist is the mysterious presence of the mystery of God who is Love, as a source of life for yourselves and your brethren.  May Mary, who is a Eucharistic woman  inasmuch as she is a perfect disciple of love that becomes sacrifice, help us all to understand the invaluable gift we have received and to live it, following her example and under her protection, with humbleness, intensity and fidelity.

Mauro Cardinal Piacenza

Lectio:

The temptations of Jesus.
Victory by means of prayer and the Bible
Luke 4, 1-13

1. LECTIO

a) Initial Prayer

Oh Lord, at the beginning of this Lenten time you invite me to meditate, once more, on the account of the temptations, so that I may discover the heart of the spiritual struggle and, above all, so that I may experience the victory over evil.
Holy Spirit, “visit our minds” because frequently, many thoughts proliferate in our mind which make us feel that we are in the power of the uproar of many voices. The fire of love also purifies our senses and the heart so that they may be docile and available to the voice of your Word. Enlighten us (accende lumen sensibus, infunde amorem cordibus) so that our senses, purified by you, may be ready to dialogue with you. If the fire of your love blazes up in our heart, over and above our aridity, it can flood the true life, which is fullness of joy.

b) Reading of the Gospel:

1 Filled with the Holy Spirit, Jesus left the Jordan and was led by the Spirit into the desert, 2 for forty days being put to the test by the devil. During that time he ate nothing and at the end he was hungry. 3 Then the devil said to him, ‘If you are Son of God, tell this stone to turn into a loaf.’ 4 But Jesus replied, ‘Scripture says: Human beings live not on bread alone.’ 5 Then leading him to a height, the devil showed him in a moment of time all the kingdoms of the world 6 and said to him, ‘I will give you all this power and their splendour, for it has been handed over to me, for me to give it to anyone I choose. 7 Do homage, then, to me, and it shall all be yours.’ 8 But Jesus answered him, ‘Scripture says: You must do homage to the Lord your God, him alone you must serve.’ 9 Then he led him to Jerusalem and set him on the parapet of the Temple. ‘If you are Son of God,’ he said to him, ‘throw yourself down from here, 10 for scripture says: He has given his angels orders about you, to guard you, and again: 11 They will carry you in their arms in case you trip over a stone.’ 12 But Jesus answered him, ‘Scripture says: Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’ 13 Having exhausted every way of putting him to the test, the devil left him, until the opportune moment.

c) Moment of prayerful silence:

To listen silence is necessary: of the soul, of the spirit, of the sensibility and also exterior silence, with the tension to listen to what the Word of God intends to communicate.

2. MEDITATIO

a) Key for the reading:

Luke with the refinement of a narrator mentions in 4, 1-44 some aspects of the ministry of Jesus after His Baptism, among which the temptations of the devil. In fact, he says that Jesus “Filled with the Holy Spirit, left the Jordan and was led by the Spirit into the desert, for forty days” (Lk 4, 1-2). Such an episode of the life of Jesus is something preliminary to his ministry, but it can also be understood as the moment of transition of the ministry of John the Baptist to that of Jesus. In Mark such an account of the temptations is more generic. In Matthew, it is said that Jesus “was led by the Spirit into the desert to be tempted by the devil” (Mt 4, 1), these last words attribute the experience of the temptations to an influence which is at the same time heavenly and diabolical. The account of Luke modifies the text of Matthew in such a way as to show that Jesus “filled with the Holy Spirit” , leaves the Jordan on his own initiative and is led by the Spirit into the desert for forty days, where “he is tempted by the devil” (4, 2). The sense which Luke wants to give to the temptations of Jesus is that those were an initiative of the devil and not a programmed experience of the Holy Spirit (S. Brown). It is as if Luke wanted to keep clearly distinct the person of the devil from the person of the Holy Spirit.

Another element to be kept in mind is the order with which Luke disposes the order of the temptations: desert – sight of the kingdoms of the world – pinnacle of Jerusalem. In Matthew, instead, the order varies: desert – pinnacle – high mountain. Exegetes discuss as to which is the original disposition, but they do not succeed in finding a unanimous solution. The difference could be explained beginning with the third temptation (the culminating one): for Matthew the “mountain” is the summit of the temptation because in his Gospel he places all his interest on the theme of the mountain (we just have to remember the sermon on the mountain, the presentation of Jesus as “the new Moses”); for Luke, instead, the last temptation takes place on the pinnacle of the temple of Jerusalem because one of the greatest interests of his Gospel is the city of Jerusalem (Jesus in the account of Luke is on the way toward Jerusalem where salvation is definitively fulfilled) (Fitzmyer).

The reader can legitimately ask himself the question: In Luke, just as in Matthew, were there possible witnesses to the temptations of Jesus? The answer is certainly negative. From the account of Luke it appears clearly that Jesus and the devil are one in front of the other, completely alone. The answers of Jesus to the devil are taken from Sacred Scripture, they are quotations from the Old Testament. Jesus faces the temptations, and particularly that of the worship which the devil intends from Jesus himself, having recourse to the Word of God as bread of life, as protection from God. The recourse to the Word of God contained in the Book of Deuteronomy, considered by exegetes as a long meditation on the Law, shows Luke’s intention to recall this episode of the life of Jesus with the project of God who wishes to save mankind.

Did these temptations take place historically? Why do some, among believers and non believers, hold that such temptations are only some fantasy on Jesus, some invention of a story? Such questions are extremely important in a context such as ours which seeks to empty the accounts in the Gospel, from its historical and faith content. Certainly, it is not possible to give a literary and ingenuous explanation, nor to think that these could have happened in an external way. That of Dupont seems to us to be sufficiently acceptable: “Jesus speaks about an experience which He has lived, but translated into a figurative language, adapted to strike the minds of his listeners” (Les tentationes, 128). More than considering them as an external fact, the temptations are considered as a concrete experience in the life of Jesus. It seems to me that this is the principal reason which has guided Luke and the other Evangelists in transmitting those scenes. The opinions of those who hold that the temptations of Jesus are fictitious or invented are deprived of foundation, neither is it possible to share the opinion of Dupont himself, when he says that these were “a purely spiritual dialogue that Jesus had with the devil” (Dupont, 125). Looking within the New Testament (Jn 6, 26-34; 7, 1-4; Hb 4, 15; 5, 2; 2, 17a) it is clear that the temptations were an evident truth in the life of Jesus. The explanation of R.E. Brown is interesting and can be shared: “Matthew and Luke would have done no injustice to historical reality by dramatizing such temptations within a scene, and by masking the true tempter by placing this provocation on his lips” (the Gospel According to John, 308). In synthesis we could say that the historicity of the temptations of Jesus or the taking root of these in the experience of Jesus have been described with a “figurative language” (Dupont) or “dramatized” (R.E. Brown). It is necessary to distinguish the content (the temptations in the experience of Jesus) from its container (the figurative or dramatized language). It is certain that these two interpretations are much more correct from those who interpret them in a an ingenious literary sense.

Besides Luke, with these scenes intends to remind us that the temptations were addressed to Jesus by an external agent. They are not the result of a psychological crisis or because He finds himself in a personal conflict with someone. The temptations, rather, lead back to the “temptations” which Jesus experienced in His ministry: hostility, opposition, rejection. Such “temptations” were real and concrete in his life. He had no recourse to His divine power to solve them. These trials were a form of “diabolical seducing” (Fitsmyer), a provocation to use His divine power to change the stones into bread and to manifest himself in eccentric ways.

The temptations end with this expression: “Having exhausted every way of putting him to the test, the devil left Jesus (4, 13). therefore, the three scenes which contain the temptations are to be considered as the expression of all temptations or trials” which Jesus had to face. But the fundamental point is that Jesus, in so far that He is the Son, faced and overcame the “temptation”. and, even more: He was tested and tried in His fidelity to the Father and was found to be faithful.

A last consideration regarding the third temptation. In the first two temptations the devil provoked Jesus to use His divine Filiation to deny the human finiteness: to avoid providing for himself bread like all men; requiring then from Him, an illusory omnipotence. In both of these, Jesus does not respond saying: I do not want to! But appeals to the Law of God, His Father: “It is written… it has been said…” A wonderful lesson. But the devil does not give in and presents a third provocation, the strongest of all: to save Himself from death. In one word, to throw himself down from the pinnacle meant a sure death. The Devil quotes Scripture, Psalm 91, to invite Jesus to the magic and spectacular use of divine protection, and in last instance, to the denial of death. The passage of the Gospel of Luke launches a strong warning: the erroneous use of the Word of God, can be the occasion of temptations. In what sense? My way of relating myself to the Bible is placed in crisis especially when I use it only to give moral teachings to others who are in difficulty or in a state of crisis. We refer to certain pseudo spiritual discourses which are addressed to those who are in difficulty: “Are you anguished? There is nothing else you can do but pray and everything will be solved”. This means to ignore the consistency of the anguish which a person has and which frequently depends on a biochemical fact or of a psycho-social difficulty, or of a mistaken way of placing oneself before God. It would be more coherent to say: Pray and ask the Lord to guide you in having recourse to the human mediations of the doctor or of a wise and knowledgeable friend so that they can help you in lessening or curing you of your anguish. One cannot propose Biblical phrases, in a magic way, to others, neglecting to use the human mediations. “The frequent temptation is that of making a Bible of one’s own moral, instead of listening to the moral teachings of the Bible” (X. Thévenot).

In this time of Lent I am invited to get close to the Word of God with the following attitude: a tireless and prayerful assiduity to the Word of God, reading it with a constant bond of union with the great traditions of the Church, and in dialogue with the problems of humanity today.

3. ORATIO

a) Psalm 119:

How blessed are those whose way is blameless,
who walk in the Law of Yahweh!
Blessed are those who observe his instructions,
who seek him with all their hearts,

Let us renew ourselves in the Spirit
And put on the new man
Jesus Christ, our Lord,
in justice and in true sanctity. (St. Paul).

and, doing no evil,
who walk in his ways.
You lay down your precepts
to be carefully kept.

Let us follow Jesus Christ
and serve Him
with a pure heart and good conscience. (Rule of Carmel)

May my ways be steady
in doing your will.
Then I shall not be shamed,
if my gaze is fixed on your commandments.

Let us follow Jesus Christ
and serve Him
with a pure heart and good conscience. (Rule of Carmel)

I thank you with a sincere heart
for teaching me your upright judgements.
I shall do your will;
do not ever abandon me wholly.

Let us renew ourselves in the Spirit
And put on the new man
Christ Jesus, our Lord,
created according to God the Father
in justice and in true sanctity. Amen (S. Paul).

b) Final Prayer:

Lord, we look for you and we desire to see your face, grant us that one day, removing the veil, we may be able to contemplate it.
We seek you in Scripture which speaks to us of you and under the veil of wisdom, the fruit of the search of people.
We look for you in the radiant faces of our brothers and sisters, in the marks of your Passion in the bodies of the suffering.
Every creature is signed by your mark, every thing reveals a ray of Your invisible beauty.
You are revealed in the service of the brother, you revealed yourself to the brother by the faithful love which never diminishes.
Not the eyes but the heart has a vision of You, with simplicity and truth we try to speak with You.

4.  CONTEMPLATIO

To prolong our meditation we suggest a reflection of Benedict XVI:
“Lent is the privileged time of an interior pilgrimage toward the One who is the source of mercy. It is a pilgrimage in which He himself accompanies us through the desert of our poverty, supporting us on the way toward the intense joy of Easter. Even in the “dark valley” of which the Psalmist speaks (Psalm 23, 4), while the tempter suggests that we be dispersed or proposes an illusory hope in the work of our hands, God takes care of us and supports us. […] Lent wants to lead us in view of the victory of Christ over every evil which oppresses man. In turning to the Divine Master, in converting ourselves to Him, in experiencing His mercy, we discover a “look” which penetrates in the depth of ourselves and which can encourage each one of us.”

fr Neil Ferguson links the burning bush to the Passion of Christ.

Vegetation of all different sorts makes frequent appearances in the scriptures; between the Tree of Life in Genesis and the Tree of Life in Revelation, there are mustard plants, vines, lilies, grass, oaks, palms, wheat and corn, olives and the fig tree, as in today’s Gospel. Given that the natural world shows God’s creative, loving power, it is fitting that it plays a part in the drama of sin and redemption. Beautifully, the leaves of the Tree of Life in Revelation are ‘for the healing of the nations.’

This reminds us of another very important type of plant in the history of salvation, the thorn. Although our text doesn’t specify that the bush from which God speaks to Moses is a thorn bush, by the time Jesus was born this was an accepted fact in the story. The burning bush was a thorn bush, and it was from this lowly and harsh plant that God spoke to Moses, to reveal nothing less than his Name, and to begin the process of liberating his people from Egypt. God in the midst of the thorns.

This has tremendous resonance, of course. After Adam transgressed and was evicted from Eden, part of the punishment was that thorns and thistles would cover the ground and that he would earn his bread in the sweat of his face (Gen 3). Thorns were the result of Adam’s sin and a sign of God’s punishment, but with Moses the same plant becomes a vehicle of God’s saving revelation. As one version of the story from about the time of Jesus puts it:

And when the First-formed Man was judged guilty of death, the earth was condemned to bring forth thorns and thistles. And when the truth enlightened Moses, it enlightened him by means of a thicket of thorns.

In another, equally vital, moment in history, thorns make an appearance. When Abraham is about to sacrifice his beloved son Isaac, the ram which is sacrificed in place of Isaac is caught by its head in a thicket of thorns (Gen 22). The saving victim amongst the thorns. So this unlikely sort of plant is involved at the crucial moments, moments of judgement, revelation, salvation and sacrifice.

For Christians, especially in this time of Lent, another appearance of thorns comes to mind: ‘And the soldiers, platting a crown of thorns, put it upon his head.’ In this apparently unimportant detail of the Passion, the whole of salvation history is embodied, the Fall, God’s self-revelation, the Exodus, the foreshadowing of the true Lamb who is now offered in sacrifice. Jesus bears the weight and pain of our history on his head, in the mocking crown of thorns. Like the burning bush, the reality, the thorniness, of Jesus’s humanity is joined to the fire of his divinity, but is not consumed by it. On the Cross, from amidst the thorns, Jesus bears the results of the Fall; he is the judge who takes the sentence upon himself. He reveals himself as the God Man who suffers and forgives, he speaks words of comfort to a dying thief, words of hope to his mother and disciple, and words of loving obedience to the Father.

From the earliest times of Christian tradition, it was thought that it was Christ who spoke to Moses from the burning thorn bush, and in this wonderful act of fulfilment, he appears again amongst the thorns in his Passion, ‘that he might show that all was the work of the same one power. He is one, and his Father is one, the eternal beginning and the end’ (Clement of Alexandria).

But we must remember too, of course, that the thorns are not the end of the story. Just as the wood of the Cross becomes the Tree of Life for us, so does the crown of thorns become the crown of glory at the Resurrection. The Father raises Jesus and crowns him with glory and honour, and puts all things under his feet. A crown of glory awaits us too, if we accept the grace of perseverance. In the meantime, much of life has the harshness of thorns, but we know that it is among the thorns that God reveals himself and saves us.

“The Great Doorway Leading into Holy Week”

By Pope Benedict XVI

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

Palm Sunday is the great doorway leading into Holy Week, the week when the Lord Jesus makes his way towards the culmination of his earthly existence.

He goes up to Jerusalem in order to fulfil the Scriptures and to be nailed to the wood of the Cross, the throne from which he will reign for ever, drawing to himself humanity of every age and offering to all the gift of redemption.

We know from the Gospels that Jesus had set out towards Jerusalem in company with the Twelve, and that little by little a growing crowd of pilgrims had joined them. Saint Mark tells us that as they were leaving Jericho, there was a “great multitude” following Jesus (cf. 10:46).

On the final stage of the journey, a particular event stands out, one which heightens the sense of expectation of what is about to unfold and focuses attention even more sharply upon Jesus. Along the way, as they were leaving Jericho, a blind man was sitting begging, Bartimaeus by name. As soon as he heard that Jesus of Nazareth was passing, he began to cry out: “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” (Mk 10:47). People tried to silence him, but to no avail; until Jesus had them call him over and invited him to approach.

“What do you want me to do for you?”, he asked.

And the reply: “Master, let me receive my sight” (v. 51).

Jesus said: “Go your way, your faith has made you well.”

Bartimaeus regained his sight and began to follow Jesus along the way (cf. v. 52).

And so it was that, after this miraculous sign, accompanied by the cry “Son of David”, a tremor of Messianic hope spread through the crowd, causing many of them to ask: this Jesus, going ahead of us towards Jerusalem, could he be the Messiah, the new David? And as he was about to enter the Holy City, had the moment come when God would finally restore the Davidic kingdom?

The preparations made by Jesus, with the help of his disciples, serve to increase this hope.

As we heard in today’s Gospel (cf. Mk 11:1-10), Jesus arrives in Jerusalem from Bethphage and the Mount of Olives, that is, the route by which the Messiah was supposed to come. From there, he sent two disciples ahead of him, telling them to bring him a young donkey that they would find along the way. They did indeed find the donkey, they untied it and brought it to Jesus.

At this point, the spirits of the disciples and of the other pilgrims were swept up with excitement: they took their coats and placed them on the colt; others spread them out on the street in Jesus’ path as he approached, riding on the donkey.

Then they cut branches from the trees and began to shout phrases from Psalm 118, ancient pilgrim blessings, which in that setting took on the character of messianic proclamation: “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the kingdom of our father David that is coming! Hosanna in the highest!” (v. 9-10).

This festive acclamation, reported by all four evangelists, is a cry of blessing, a hymn of exultation: it expresses the unanimous conviction that, in Jesus, God has visited his people and the longed-for Messiah has finally come. And everyone is there, growing in expectation of the work that Christ will accomplish once he has entered the city.

But what is the content, the inner resonance of this cry of jubilation?

The answer is found throughout the Scripture, which reminds us that the Messiah fulfils the promise of God’s blessing, God’s original promise to Abraham, father of all believers: “I will make of you a great nation and I will bless you … and by you all the families of the earth shall bless themselves” (Gen 12:2-3).

It is the promise that Israel had always kept alive in prayer, especially the prayer of the Psalms.

Hence he whom the crowd acclaims as the blessed one is also he in whom the whole of humanity will be blessed.

Thus, in the light of Christ, humanity sees itself profoundly united and, as it were, enfolded within the cloak of divine blessing, a blessing that permeates, sustains, redeems and sanctifies all things.

Here we find the first great message that today’s feast brings us: the invitation to adopt a proper outlook upon all humanity, on the peoples who make up the world, on its different cultures and civilizations.

The look that the believer receives from Christ is a look of blessing: a wise and loving look, capable of grasping the world’s beauty and having compassion on its fragility. Shining through this look is God’s own look upon those he loves and upon Creation, the work of his hands. We read in the Book of Wisdom: “But thou art merciful to all, for thou canst do all things, and thou dost overlook men’s sins, that they may repent. For thou lovest all things that exist and hast loathing for none of the things which thou hast made … thou sparest all things, for they are thine, O Lord who lovest the living” (11:23-24, 26).

Let us return to today’s Gospel passage and ask ourselves: what is really happening in the hearts of those who acclaim Christ as King of Israel?

Clearly, they had their own idea of the Messiah, an idea of how the long-awaited King promised by the prophets should act.

Not by chance, a few days later, instead of acclaiming Jesus, the Jerusalem crowd will cry out to Pilate: “Crucify him!”, while the disciples, together with others who had seen him and listened to him, will be struck dumb and will disperse. The majority, in fact, was disappointed by the way Jesus chose to present himself as Messiah and King of Israel.

This is the heart of today’s feast, for us too. Who is Jesus of Nazareth for us? What idea do we have of the Messiah, what idea do we have of God?

It is a crucial question, one we cannot avoid, not least because during this very week we are called to follow our King who chooses the Cross as his throne.

We are called to follow a Messiah who promises us, not a facile earthly happiness, but the happiness of heaven, divine beatitude. So we must ask ourselves: what are our true expectations? What are our deepest desires, with which we have come here today to celebrate Palm Sunday and to begin our celebration of Holy Week?

Dear young people, present here today, this, in a particular way, is your Day, wherever the Church is present throughout the world. So I greet you with great affection! May Palm Sunday be a day of decision for you, the decision to say yes to the Lord and to follow him all the way, the decision to make his Passover, his death and resurrection, the very focus of your Christian lives.

It is the decision that leads to true joy, as I reminded you in this year’s World Youth Day Message – “Rejoice in the Lord always” (Phil 4:4). So it was for Saint Clare of Assisi when, on Palm Sunday 800 years ago, inspired by the example of Saint Francis and his first companions, she left her father’s house to consecrate herself totally to the Lord. She was eighteen years old and she had the courage of faith and love to decide for Christ, finding in him true joy and peace.

Dear brothers and sisters, may these days call forth two sentiments in particular: praise, after the example of those who welcomed Jesus into Jerusalem with their “Hosanna!”, and thanksgiving, because in this Holy Week the Lord Jesus will renew the greatest gift we could possibly imagine: he will give us his life, his body and his blood, his love.

But we must respond worthily to so great a gift, that is to say, with the gift of ourselves, our time, our prayer, our entering into a profound communion of love with Christ who suffered, died and rose for us.

The early Church Fathers saw a symbol of all this in the gesture of the people who followed Jesus on his entry into Jerusalem, the gesture of spreading out their coats before the Lord. Before Christ – the Fathers said – we must spread out our lives, ourselves, in an attitude of gratitude and adoration.

As we conclude, let us listen once again to the words of one of these early Fathers, Saint Andrew, Bishop of Crete: “So it is ourselves that we must spread under Christ’s feet, not coats or lifeless branches or shoots of trees, matter which wastes away and delights the eye only for a few brief hours. But we have clothed ourselves with Christ’s grace, or with the whole Christ … so let us spread ourselves like coats under his feet … let us offer not palm branches but the prizes of victory to the conqueror of death. Today let us too give voice with the children to that sacred chant, as we wave the spiritual branches of our soul: ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, the King of Israel’” (PG 97, 994). Amen!

Father Raniero Cantalamessa, ofmCap.
Fourth Lenten Homily

11th century mosaic of Gregory of Nyssa. Saint Sophia Cathedral in Kiev, Ukraine

SAINT GREGORY OF NYSSA
AND THE WAY TO KNOW GOD

1. The Two Dimensions of Faith
In regard to faith, Saint Augustine made a distinction which has remained classic up to today: the distinction between things that are believed and the act of believing in them: “Aliud sunt ea quae creduntur, aliud fides qua creduntur”[1], the fidea quae and the fides qua, as is said in theology. The first is also said to be objective faith, the second faith is subjective. All Christian reflection on faith takes place between these two poles.

Delineated are two orientations, with different names and accentuations. On one hand we have those who accentuate the importance of the intellect in believing, hence, objective faith, as assent to revealed truths, on the other, those who accentuate the importance of the will and affection, hence, subjective faith, to believe in someone (“to believe in”), rather than believing something (“believe that”) — on one hand, those who accentuate the reasons of the mind and, on the other, those that, as Pascal, accentuate “the reasons of the heart.”

This oscillation reappears in different forms at every turn of the history of theology: in the Medieval Age, in the different accentuation between the theology of Saint Thomas and that of Saint Bonaventure; at the time of the Reformation between the faith-trust of Luther and the Catholic faith informed by charity; later between Kant’s faith in the limits of simple reason and faith founded on the sentiment of Schleiermacher and of Romanticism in general; and, closer to us, between the faith of liberal theology and Bultmann’s existential theology, practically devoid of all objective content.

Contemporary Catholic theology makes an effort, as in other times in the past, to find the right balance between the two dimensions of faith. The phase has been surmounted in which, for contingent controversial reasons, the whole attention of theology manuals ended up by concentrating on objective faith (fides quae), that is, on the set of truths to be believed. “The act of faith — one reads in an authoritative critical dictionary of theology — in the prevailing current of all Christian confessions, appears today as the discovery of a divine You. Hence, the apologetics of proof tends to situate itself behind a pedagogy of spiritual experience that tends to initiate to a Christian experience, the possibility of which is recognized inscribed a priori in every human being.”[2] In other words, more than appealing to the person on the strength of external arguments, what is sought is to help him find in himself the confirmation of the faith, seeking to rekindle that spark which is in the “restless heart” of every man by the fact of being created “in the image of God.”

I made this introduction because once again it enables us to see the contribution that the Fathers can make to our effort to give back to the faith of the Church its splendor and impetus. The greatest among them are unsurpassed models of a faith that is both objective and subjective, concerned, that is, about the content of the faith, namely, its orthodoxy but, at the same time believed and lived with all the ardor of the heart. The Apostle Paul proclaimed: “corde creditor” (Romans 10:10), one believes with the heart, and we know that with the word heart, the Bible understands both spiritual dimensions of man, his intelligence and his will: the heart is the symbolic place of knowledge and love. In this sense the Fathers are an indispensable link to rediscover the faith as Scripture intends it.

2. “I believe in one God”
In this last meditation we approach the Fathers to renew our faith in its primary object, in what is commonly understood with the word “believe” and on the basis of which we distinguish persons between believers and non-believers: faith in the existence of God. In the preceding meditations we reflected on the divinity of Christ, on the Holy Spirit and on the Trinity. However, faith in the Triune God is the final stage of faith, the “more” on God revealed by Christ. To attain this fullness it is necessary first to believe in God. Before faith in the Triune God, there is faith in the One God.

Saint Gregory of Nazianz reminded us of God’s pedagogy in revealing himself gradually. First, in the Old Testament, the Father is revealed openly and the Son, then, in the New, the Son is revealed openly and the Holy Spirit in a veiled way, now, in the Church, the whole Trinity is revealed openly. Jesus also says that he refrains from telling the Apostles those things of which they are still unable to “bear the weight” (John 16:12). We must also follow the same pedagogy in addressing those to whom we wish to proclaim the faith today.

The Letter to the Hebrews says what the first step is to approach God: “For whoever would draw near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him” (Hebrews 11:6). This is the foundation of all the rest that remains, also after having believed in the Trinity. Let us see how the Fathers can be of inspiration to us from this point of view, always keeping present that our main purpose is not apologetic but spiritual, oriented, that is, to consolidate our faith, more than to communicate it to others. The guide we choose for this path is Saint Gregory of Nyssa.

Gregory of Nyssa (331-394), blood brother of Saint Basil, friend and contemporary of Gregory of Nazianz, is a Father and Doctor of the Church, whose intellectual stature and decisive importance in the development of Christian thought is being discovered ever more clearly. He is “one of the most powerful and original thinkers known in the history of the Church” (L. Bouyer), “the founder of a new mystical and ecstatic religiosity” (H. von Campenhausen).

Unlike us, the Fathers did not have to demonstrate the existence of God, but the oneness of God; they did not have to combat atheism but polytheism. We will see, however, how the path traced by them to attain knowledge of the one God is the same one that can lead the man of today to the discovery of God tout court.

To assess the contribution of the Fathers and, in particular, of Gregory of Nyssa, it is necessary to know how the problem of the oneness of God presented itself at the time. While the doctrine of the Trinity was being affirmed, Christians saw themselves exposed to the same accusation that they had always addressed to pagans: that of believing in more divinities. Here is why the creed of Christians, which for three centuries, in all its various formulations, began with the words “I believe in God” (Credo un Deum), beginning in the 4^th century, registers a small but significant addition which would never be omitted afterwards: “I believe in one God” (I believe in unum Deum).

It is not necessary to go over the path again here that led to this result; we can begin from its conclusion. Concluded toward the end of the 4^th century was the transformation of the monotheism of the Old Testament into the Trinitarian monotheism of Christians. The Latins expressed the two aspects of the mystery with the formula “one substance and three persons,” the Greeks with the formula “three hypostasis, only one ousia.” After a long confrontation, the process concluded apparently with a total agreement between the two theologies. “Can one conceive — exclaimed Gregory of Nazianz — a fuller agreement and say more absolutely the same thing, even if with different words?”[3]

In reality a difference remained between the two ways of expressing the mystery. Today it is usual to express it thus: in the consideration of the Trinity, the Greeks and the Latins move from opposite sides: the Greeks begin from the divine persons, namely from plurality, to attain the unity of nature; and, vice versa, the Latins begin from the unity of the divine nature, to arrive at the three persons. “The Latin considers the personality as a way of the nature; the Greek considers the nature as the content of the person.”[4]

I think the difference can be expressed in another way. Both Latins and Greeks begin from the unity of God. Both the Greek and the Latin symbol begin saying “I believe in one God” (Credo in unum Deum”!). Only that for the Latins this unity is conceived as impersonal or pre-personal; it is the essence of God that is specified then in Father, Son and Holy Spirit, without, of course, being thought as pre-existing to the persons. For the Greeks, instead, it is a unity that is already personalized, because for them “the unity is the Father from whom and to whom the other persons are counted.”[5] The first article of the Greek Creed also says this ”I believe in one God the Father almighty” (Credo in unum Deum Patrem omnipotentem”), only that here “the Father almighty” is not detached from ‘unum Deum,’ as in the Latin Creed, but it makes a whole with it: I believe in one God who is the Almighty Father.”

This was the way all three Cappadocians conceived the oneness of God, but more than all of them Saint Gregory of Nyssa. For him, the unity of the three divine persons is given by the fact that the Son is perfectly (substantially) “united” to the Father, as is also the Holy Spirit through the Son.”[6] It is, in fact, this thesis that creates a difficulty for the Latins who see in it the danger of subordinating the Son to the Father and the Spirit to one and the other: “The name ‘God’ — wrote Augustine — indicates the whole Trinity, not just the Father.”[7]

God is the name we give the divinity when we consider it not in itself, but in relation to men and to the world, because all that it does outside of itself it does together, as one sole efficient cause. The important conclusion we can draw from all this, apart from the different point of departure of Latins and Greecs, is that the Christian faith is also monotheistic; Christians have not given up the Jewish faith in one God, rather, they have enriched it, giving content and a new and marvelous sense to this unity. God is one, but not solitary!

3. “Moses entered the cloud”
Why choose Saint Gregory of Nyssa as guide in knowledge of this God in front of whom we stay as creatures before the Creator? The reason is that this Father, first of all in Christianity, has traced a way to knowledge of God that appears to be particularly respondent to the religious situation of the man of today: the way of knowledge that passes through … non-knowledge.

The occasion was offered to him by the controversy with the heretic Eunomius, the representative of a radical Arianism against whom all the great Fathers wrote who lived in the last period of the 4^th century: Basil, Gregory of Nazianz, Chrysostom and, more acutely than all, Gregory of Nyssa. Eunomius identified the divine essence in the fact of being “un-begotten” (agennetos). In this connection, for him it was perfectly knowable and did not represent a mystery; we can know God no less than he knows himself.

The Fathers reacted as one, holding the thesis of the “incomprehensibility of God” in his intimate reality. But while the others halted at a confutation of Eunomius, based more than anything on the words of the Bible, Gregory of Nyssa, went beyond demonstrating that precisely the recognition of this incomprehensibility is the way to the true knowledge (theognosia) of God. He did so taking up a theme already sketched by Philo of Alexandria[8]: that of Moses who encounters God on entering the cloud. The biblical text is Exodus 24:15-18 and here is his comment:

“The manifestation of God happens first for Moses in the light; then He spoke with him in the cloud, finally having become more perfect, Moses contemplates God in the darkness. The passage from darkness to light is the first separation of the false and erroneous ideas about God; the intelligence more attentive to hidden things, leading the soul through visible things to the invisible reality, is like a cloud that darkens all the sensible and accustoms the soul to the contemplation of what is hidden; finally the soul that has walked on this path toward heavenly things, having left earthly things in so far as possible to human nature, penetrates the sanctuary of divine knowledge (theognosia) surrounded from all sides by the divine darkness.”[9]

True knowledge and the vision of God consist “in seeing that He is invisible, because He whom the soul seeks transcends all knowledge, separated from every part by his incomprehensibility as by a darkness.”[10]

In this final stage of knowledge, there is no concept of God, but that which Gregory of Nyssa, with an expression that has become famous, defines as “a certain feeling of presence” (aisthesin tina tes parusias).[11] A feeling not with the senses of the body, it is understood, but with the interior ones of the heart. This feeling does not go beyond faith but is its highest accomplishment. “With faith — exclaims the Bride of the Canticle (Canticle 3:6) — I have found the Beloved.” She does not “understand” him”; she does better, she “holds” him![12]

These ideas of Gregory of Nyssa had an immense influence on subsequent Christian thought, to the point of his being considered the very founder of Christian mysticism. Through Dionysius the Areopagite and Maximus the Confessor who take up his theme, his influence spread from the Greek world to the Latin. The subject of the knowledge of God in darkness returns in Angela of Foligno, in the author of the Cloud of Unknowing, in the subject of “learned ignorance” of Nicolas Cusanus, and in that of the “dark night” of John of the Cross and in many others.

4. Who really humiliates reason?
Now I would like to show how Saint Gregory of Nyssa’s intuition can help us, believers, to deepen our faith and to indicate to modern man, who has become skeptical of the “five ways” of traditional theology, to rediscover a path that leads him to God.

The novelty introduced by Gregory of Nyssa in Christian thought is that to encounter God it is necessary to go beyond the confines of reason. We are at the antipodes of Kant’s plan to keep religion “within the confines of simple reason.” In today’s secularized culture we have gone beyond Kant: in the name of reason (at least practical reason) he “postulated” the existence of God, subsequent rationalists even deny this.

From this we understand how timely Gregory of Nyssa’s thought it. He demonstrates that the highest part of the person, reason, is not excluded from the search for God; that we are not constrained to choose between following the faith and following the intelligence. Entering the cloud, that is, by believing, the human person does not give up his rationality but transcends it, which is something very different. It stretches the resources of reason to the extreme, permitting it to perform its most noble act, because, as Pascal affirms, “the supreme act of reason lies in recognizing that there is an infinity of things that surpass it.”[13]

Saint Thomas Aquinas, rightly considered one of the most strenuous defenders of the exigencies of reason, wrote: “It is said that at the end of our knowledge, God is known as the Unknown because our spirit has arrived at the extreme of its knowledge of God when in the end it understands that his essence is beyond all that which it can know down here.”[14]

In the very instant that reason recognizes its limit, it breaks through it and surpasses it. It understands that it cannot understand, “it sees that it cannot see,” said Gregory of Nyssa, but it also understands that a comprehensible God would no longer be God. It is the work of reason that produces this recognition which is, because of this, an exquisitely rational act. It is, to the letter, a “learned ignorance.”[15]

Hence, what should be said, instead, is the contrary, the one who puts a limit to reason and humiliates it is he who does not recognize its capacity to transcend itself. “Up to now — wrote Kierkegaard — we have always spoken thus: ‘To say that one cannot understand this or that thing does not satisfy science which wants to understand.’ Here is the mistake. In fact, the contrary should be said: if human science does not want to recognize that there is something that it cannot understand, or — in a still more precise way — something of which with clarity it can ‘understand that it cannot understand,’ then everything is thrown into confusion. Hence it is a task of human knowledge to understand that there are, and to identify which are, the things that it cannot understand.”[16]

However, what sort of darkness is this? It is said of the cloud that, at a certain point, interposed itself between the Egyptians and the Jews, that it was “dark for some and luminous for others” (cf. Exodus 14:20). The world of faith is dark for one who looks at it from outside, but it is luminous for one who goes inside, a special luminosity, of the heart more than of the mind. In the Dark Night of Saint John of the Cross (a variant of Gregory of Nyssa’s theme of the cloud!) the soul declares it is proceeding on its new path, “without any other guide and light than the one that shines in my heart.” A light, however, that is “more luminous than the sun at midday.”[17]

Blessed Angela of Foligno, one of the highest representatives of the vision of God in darkness, says that the Mother of God “was so ineffably united to the total and absolutely ineffable Trinity, that in life she enjoyed the joy that the saints enjoy in heaven, the joy of incomprehensibility (Gaudium incomprehensibilitatis), because they understand that it cannot be understood.”[18]

It is a stupendous complement to the doctrine of Gregory of Nyssa on the unknowability of God. It assures us that far from humiliating us and depriving us of something, this unknowability is made to fill man with enthusiasm and joy; it tells us that God is infinitely greater, more beautiful, more good than we can think, and that all this is for us, so that our joy will be full and we will never be touched by the thought that we will be bored in spending eternity with him!

Another idea of Gregory of Nyssa, which is useful for a comparison with modern religious culture, is that of the “feeling of a presence” that he puts at the summit of knowledge of God. Religious phenomenology has brought to light the existence of a primary fact, present in different degrees of purity, in all the cultures and in all the ages that he calls “feeling of the numinous,” that is the sense, mixed with terror and attraction, which grips the human being suddenly in face of the manifestation of the supernatural and the super-rational.[19] If the defense of the faith, according to the latest guidelines of apologetics recalled at the beginning, “is placed behind a pedagogy of spiritual experience, of which the possibility is recognized inscribed a priori in every human being,” we cannot neglect the link that modern religious phenomenology offers us.

Certainly, the “feeling of a certain presence” of Gregory of Nyssa is different from the confused sense of the numinous and the thrill of the supernatural, but the two things have something in common. One is the beginning of a path toward the discovery of the living God, the other is the end. Knowledge of God, said Gregory of Nyssa, begins with the passing from darkness to light and ends with the passing from light to darkness. The second passage is not attained without passing through the first; in other words, without first being purified from sin and the passions. “I would already have abandoned pleasures — says the libertine — if I had faith. But I respond, says Pascal: You would already have faith if you had abandoned pleasures.”[20]

The image that accompanied us in the whole of this meditation, thanks to Gregory of Nyssa, was that of Moses who goes up to mount Sinai and enters the cloud. The proximity of Easter pushes us to go beyond this image, to pass from the symbol to the reality. There is another mount where another Moses has encountered God while “there was darkness over all the land” (Matthew 27:45). On Mount Calvary the man-God, Jesus of Nazareth, united man forever with God. At the end of his Journey of the Mind to God, Saint Bonaventure writes:

“After all these considerations, what stays in our mind is to elevate it speculating not only beyond this sensible world, but also beyond itself; and in this ascent Christ is the way and door, Christ is ladder and vehicle … He who looks attentively at this propitiation hanging on the cross, with faith, hope and charity, with devotion, admiration, exultation, veneration, praise and rejoicing celebrates Easter with him, that is, the passage.”[21]

May the Lord grant us to make this beautiful and holy “Passover” with him!
— — —

1. Augustine, De Trinitate, XIII, 2, 5.
2. J. Y. Lacoste and N. Lossky, “Fois,” in Dictionnaire critique de Theologie, Presses Universitaires de France, 1988, p. 479.
3. Gregory of Nazianzen, Oratio 42, 16 (PG 36, 477).
4. Th. De Regnon, Etudes de theologie positive sur la Sainte Trinité, I, Paris 1892, 433.
5. Saint Gregory of Nazianzen, Oratio 42, 15 (PG 36, 476).
6. Cf. Gregory of Nyssa, Contra Eunomium 42 (PG 45, 464).
7. Augustine, De Trinitate, I6,10; cf. also IX,1,1 (“credamus Patrem et Filium et Spiritum Sanctum esse unum Deum”).
8. Cf. Philo Al., De posteritate, 5, 15.
9. Gregory of Nyssa, Homily XI on the Canticle )(PG 44, 1000 C-D).
10. Life of Moses, II, 163 (SCh 1 bis, p. 210 f.).
11. Homily XI on the Canticle (PG 44, 1001 B).
12. Homily on the Canticle (PG 44, 893 B-C).
13. B. Pascal, Pensees 267 Br.
14. Thomas Aquinas, In Boet. Trin. Proem., q. 1, a.2, to 1.
15. Augustine, Epistle 130, 28 (PL 33, 505).
16. S. Kierkegaard, Diary VIII A 11.
17. John of the Cross, Dark Night, Song of the Soul, stanza 3-4
18. Il libro della beata Angela da Foligno, Quaracchi publishers, 1985, p. 468.
19. R. Otto, The Idea of the Holy (1923), Oxford University Press.
20. Pascal, Pensees, 240 Br.
21. Bonaventure, Itinerarium mentis in Deum, VII, 1-2 (Opere de S. Bonaventura, V, 1, Rome, Citta Nuova, 1993, p. 564.

Editor’s Comments:

The traditional view of Gregory is that he was an orthodox Trinitarian theologian, who was influenced by the neoplatonism of Plotinus and believed in universal salvation following Origen.^[22] However, as a highly original and sophisticated thinker, Gregory is difficult to classify, and many aspects of his theology are contentious among both conservative Orthodox theologians and Western academic scholarship.^[23] This is often due to the lack of systematic structure and the presence of terminological inconsistencies in Gregory’s work.^[24]

Conception of the Trinity

Gregory, following Basil, defined the Trinity as “one essence [οὐσία] in three persons [ὑποστάσεις]“, the formula adopted by the Council of Constantinople in 381.^[25] Like the other Cappadocian Fathers, he was a homoousian, and Against Eunomius affirms the truth of the consubstantiality of the trinity over Eunomius’ Platonic belief that the Father’s substance is unengendered, whereas the Son’s is engendered.^[26] According to Gregory, the differences between the three persons of the Trinity reside in their relationships with each other, and the triune nature of God is revealed through divine action (despite the unity of God in His action).^[27][28] The Son is therefore defined as begotten of the Father, the Holy Spirit as proceeding from the Father and the Son, and the Father by his role as progenitor. However, this doctrine would seem to subordinate the Son to the Father, and the Holy Spirit to the Son. Robert Jenson suggests that Gregory implies that each member of the Godhead has an individual priority: the Son has epistemological priority, the Father has ontic priority and the Spirit has metaphysical priority.^[29] Other commentators disagree: Morwenna Ludlow, for instance, argues that epistemic priority resides primarily in the Spirit in Gregory’s theology.^[30]

Modern proponents of social Trinitarianism often claim to have been influenced by the Cappadocians’ dynamic picture of the Trinity.^[31] However, it would be fundamentally incorrect to identify Gregory as a social Trinitarian, as his theology emphasises the unity of God’s will, and he clearly believes that the identities of the Trinity are the three persons, not the relations between them.^[24][30]

Infinitude of God

Gregory was one of the first theologians to argue, in opposition to Origen, that God is infinite. His main argument for the infinity of God, which can be found in Against Eunomius, is that God’s goodness is limitless, and as God’s goodness is essential, God is also limitless.^[32]

An important consequence of Gregory’s belief in the infinity of God is his belief that God, as limitless, is essentially incomprehensible to the limited minds of created beings. Gregory’s theology was thus apophatic: he proposed that God should be defined in terms of what we know He is not rather than what we might speculate Him to be.^[33]

Accordingly, the Nyssen taught that due to God’s infinitude, a created being can never reach an understanding of God, and thus for man in both life and the afterlife there is a constant progression [ἐπέκτασις] towards the unreachable knowledge of God, as the individual continually transcends all which has been reached before.^[34] In the Life of Moses, Gregory speaks of three stages of this spiritual growth: initial darkness of ignorance, then spiritual illumination, and finally a darkness of the mind in mystic contemplation of the God who cannot be comprehended.^[35]

Universalism

It is generally agreed that Gregory believed in universal salvation or resurrection.^[36] In the Life of Moses, he writes that just as the darkness left the Egyptians after three days, perhaps redemption [ἀποκατάστασις] will be extended to those suffering in hell [γέεννα].^[36] This salvation may not only extend to humans; following Origen, there are passages where he seems to suggest (albeit through the voice of Macrina) that even the demons will have a place in Christ’s “world of goodness”.^[37] Gregory’s interpretations of 1 Corinthians 15:28 (“And when all things shall be subdued unto him …”) and Philippians 2:10 (“That at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth”) support this understanding of his theology.^[37]

However, in the Great Catechism, Gregory suggests that while every human will be resurrected, salvation will only be accorded to the baptised.^[38] While he believes that there will be no more evil in the hereafter, it is arguable that this does not preclude a belief that God might justly damn sinners for eternity.^[39] Thus, the main difference between Gregory’s conception of ἀποκατάστασις and that of Origen would be that Gregory believes that mankind will be collectively returned to sinlessness, whereas Origen believes that personal salvation will be universal.^[39]

Anthropology

Gregory’s anthropology is founded on the ontological distinction between the created and uncreated. Man is a material creation, and thus limited, but infinite in that his immortal soul has an indefinite capacity to grow closer to the divine.^[40] Gregory believed that the soul is created simultaneous to the creation of the body (in opposition to Origen, who believed in preexistence), and that embryos were thus persons. To Gregory, the human being is exceptional being created in the image of God.^[41] Humanity is theomorphic both in having self-awareness and free will, the latter which gives each individual existential power, because to Gregory, in disregarding God one negates one’s own existence.^[42] In the Song of Songs, Gregory metaphorically describes human lives as paintings created by apprentices to a master: the apprentices (the human wills) imitate their master’s work (the life of Christ) with beautiful colors (virtues), and thus man strives to be a reflection of Christ.^[43] Gregory, in stark contrast to most thinkers of his age, saw great beauty in the Fall: from Adam’s sin from two perfect humans would eventually arise myriad.^[43]

Neoplatonism

There are many similarities between Gregory’s theology and neoplatonist philosophy, especially that of Plotinus.^[44] Specifically, they share the idea that the reality of God is completely inaccessible to human beings and that man can only come to see God through a spiritual journey in which knowledge [γνῶσις] is rejected in favour of meditation.^[45] Gregory does not refer to any neoplatonist philosophers in his work, and there is only one disputed passage which may directly quote Plotinus.^[46] Considering this, it seems possible that Gregory was familiar with Plotinus and perhaps other figures in neoplatonism. However, some significant differences between neoplatonism and Gregory’s thought exist, such as Gregory’s statement that beauty and goodness are equivalent, which contrasts with Plotinus’ view that they are two different qualities.^[47]

Eastern Orthodox theologians are generally critical of the theory that Gregory was influenced by neoplatonism. For example, Metropolitan Hierotheos of Nafpaktos aruges in Life After Death that Gregory opposed all philosophical (as opposed to theological) endeavour as tainted with worldliness.^[48] This view is supported by Against Euthonius, where Gregory denounces Euthonius for placing the results of his systematic Aristotelean philosophy above the traditional teachings of the Church.^[26]

The First Council of Constantinople, wall painting at the church of Stavropoleos, Bucharest, Romania

• Gregory of Nyssa Home Page, including many English translations of his writings.
• “St. Gregory of Nyssa“. Catholic Encyclopedia. New York: Robert Appleton Company. 1913.
• Gregory of Nyssa from “The Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy“
• Opera Omnia by Migne, Patrologia Graeca with analytical indexes.
• Relics of St. Gregory of Nyssa
• Schaff’s Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers (online), including the works of St. Gregory
• Early Church Fathers: Gregory of Nyssa

Collect: By your help, we beseech you, Lord our God, may we walk eagerly in that same charity with which, out of love for the world, you Son handed himself over to death. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.

Now there were some Greeks^* among those who had come up to worship at the feast.ⁿ 21^* They came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee, and asked him, “Sir, we would like to see Jesus.”^o 22Philip went and told Andrew; then Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus.^p 23^* Jesus answered them,^q “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. 24^* Amen, amen, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat;^r but if it dies, it produces much fruit. 25Whoever loves his life^* loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will preserve it for eternal life.^s 26Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there also will my servant be. The Father will honor whoever serves me.^t

27“I am troubled^* now. Yet what should I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour’? But it was for this purpose that I came to this hour.^u 28Father, glorify your name.” Then a voice came from heaven, “I have glorified it and will glorify it again.”^v 29The crowd there heard it and said it was thunder; but others said, “An angel has spoken to him.”^w 30Jesus answered and said, “This voice did not come for my sake but for yours.^x 31Now is the time of judgment on this world; now the ruler of this world^* will be driven out.^y 32And when I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw everyone to myself.”^z 33He said this indicating the kind of death he would die.

The first reading is taken from the Book of the Prophet Jeremiah 31:31-34. In today’s extract, the prophet is foretelling the setting up of a New Covenant, to replace the Old Covenant made between God and his Chosen People on Mt. Sinai, a covenant which the Chosen People had not kept. The New Covenant would not be written on tablets of stone but on each individual’s heart. It would be a covenant of love rather than one of obligation.

The second reading is from the Letter of St. Paul to the Hebrews 5:7-9. The purpose of this letter is to confirm the converts in the Christian faith which they have accepted.

The Gospel is from St. John 12:20-33. On the first Palm Sunday, as Christ entered Jerusalem not as a conquering king on a charger but “riding on an ass” to show that he was the humble servant of all men, he clearly foresaw the sufferings and torments that would be his in that city, before the week was out. Among those who waved palm branches to honor him and who sang aloud: “Hosanna to the son of David, Hosanna in the highest,” there were perhaps some who, urged on by the leaders, would be shouting the following Friday, “away with him, crucify him,” and “we have no king but Caesar.” Such was the fickleness of human nature then. Unfortunately it has not changed much, if at all, in the two thousand years that have since elapsed. We are still fickle when it comes to choosing between Christ and the things of this world. Yet he knew all of this, and was still willing to carry the cross for us who are such unworthy mortals!

Now there were some Greeks among those who had come up to worship at the feast. They came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee, and asked him, “Sir, we would like to see Jesus.” Philip went and told Andrew; then Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus (John 12:20-22).

Previously called “Passion Sunday”, this Sunday marks the beginning of Passiontide, a deeper time of Lent. This is the third Sunday of the scrutinies for the preparation of adult converts, and the final Sunday of Lent before the beginning of Holy Week. The Liturgy of the Word of this day speaks of re-creation, resurrection, and new life.

Ordinarily today is the Solemnity of the Annunciation. It is celebrated this year on March 26 having been superseded by the Sunday liturgy.

Fifth Sunday of Lent, Year B

Citations of
Jr 31,31-34 http://www.clerus.org/bibliaclerusonline/en/9bp3kh4.htm
He 5,7-9 http://www.clerus.org/bibliaclerusonline/en/9ak0rne.htm
Jn 12,20-36 http://www.clerus.org/bibliaclerusonline/en/9a455fl.htm

“We should like to see Jesus.” (Jn 12:21). In this fifth Sunday of Lent, the Church helps us to take another significant step along our journey of spiritual combat which is now drawing to a close.

The Greeks, turning to St Philip, the Apostle to whom they were closest by name and geographical origin, have a question which is disarming in its simplicity. “We should like to see Jesus!” They ask for neither an abstract concept nor an idea, nor for an ethical teaching but simply a meeting. They do not ask Philip to tell them about the Lord or his teachings, or how to do His will. They just want to see Jesus directly.

“We should like to see Jesus.” The simplicity of this question reminds us of the touching prayer of Psalm 50 – “create in me, O God, a pure heart”. The psalmist, acknowledging his own sin and recognising his need to be renewed, asks to be transformed so that he can be ‘new’, alive and free in his relationship with God.

“We should like to see Jesus.” This newness, this life and freedom for which the psalmist searches cannot be obtained by humans through our own strength, nor even, by doing what is ethically right. Indeed, even what is ethically right is ultimately empty and sterile in comparison to the renewal of life that comes, not from ourselves, but as the gift from the God who saves us.

“We should like to see Jesus.” It is not for us to decide the circumstances, the manner or the form of this gift. Man can’t ‘decide’ what can save him or even permit another to decide it on his behalf or else we become enslaved by the latest psychological recipe, the urgency of those dominant influences that time after time direct our attention and that of our families or of colleagues. Man can only ‘request’ this salvation, awaiting until we meet it and then respond by leaving everything in order to finally embrace it. This is what happened to the Apostles, men profoundly open to Christ’s eternal uniqueness and who, after leaving their families and their work, followed Him. They shared Christ’s company, tasted the sweetness of a life lived in communion with Him and so became the means by which others could encounter Christ.

“We should like to see Jesus.” The Greeks’ cry is the same as that of all Christians and is, in fact, the same as that of all mankind. The Redeemers’ response is mysterious yet He had listened attentively to the question posed by Andrew and Philip and replied saying: “unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat; but if it dies, it produces much fruit.” (Jn 12:24) Above all else this seems to speak of a general rule of human existence: the one who doesn’t die remains alone; but the one who dies produces much fruit.

At the same time as the meeting with Christ was announced to the Greeks it was also announced to each one of us. He who is ‘the grain of wheat which falls to the earth,’ the Eternal Word made Man, assumed in Himself that natural law written in the man’s heart by the Creator, which He fulfilled in this journey on our behalf: ‘Although He was Son, He learned to obey through suffering’. Jesus is not content to be met in a superficial way, but as he dies on the cross, he wants to meet us more deeply and thus reveal God’s glory. “They will no longer teach their friends and relatives, “Know the Lord!” Everyone, from least to greatest, shall know me.” (Jer 31:34)

Blessed Virgin of the Annunciation, the first to see the face of the Son of God who was born of you, accompany us as we say the same “yes”, and as we lose our life so that we might find it again. Show us, O Clement, O Loving, O Sweet Virgin Mary, after this, our exile, the fruit of your womb, Jesus. Amen.