Papal preacher delivers second Advent Sermon to Pope,
Curia
(Vatican Radio) The Papal preacher, Father Raniero
Cantalamessa, delivered his second Advent Sermon on Friday to Pope Francis and
members of the Roman Curia.
As preacher to the Papal Household, Capucin Father Cantalamessa
gives a meditation to the Pope, Cardinals and members of the Roman Curia every
Friday morning in Lent and Advent in the Apostolic Palace’s “Redemptoris Mater”
Chapel.
In the second Advent sermon, Fr. Cantalamessa continued his
theme of the Holy Spirit’s action in the Church, focusing on the charism of
discernment.
Please find below the full text English translation of
the Sermon:
Second Advent Sermon
The Holy Spirit and the Charism of Discernment
Let us continue our reflections on the work of the Holy
Spirit in the life of a Christian. Saint Paul mentions a specific charism
called “discernment of spirits” (see 1 Cor 12:10). This phrase originally had a
very specific meaning: it indicated the gift that made it possible to
distinguish from among the inspired or prophetic messages given during an
assembly those that came from the Spirit of Christ and those that came from
other spirits, such as the spirit of man, or a demonic spirit, or the spirit of
the world.
For Saint John this is its fundamental meaning as well.
Discernment consists in testing “the spirits to see whether they are from God”
(1 Jn 4:1). For Paul the fundamental criterion for discernment is confessing
Christ as “Lord” (1 Cor 12:3); for John, it is confessing that Jesus “has come
in the flesh” (1 Jn 4:2), meaning, the Incarnation. In John, discernment
already begins to take on a theological function as the criterion by which to
discern true doctrines from false ones, orthodoxy from heresy, which would
become pivotal later.
1. Discernment in ecclesial life
There are two areas in which this gift of discerning the
voice of the Holy Spirit needs to be exercised: the ecclesial and the personal.
In the ecclesial area, discernment of spirits is carried out by the authority
of the magisterium, which, however, must take into account, along with other
criteria, the “sense of the faithful.”
But I would like to dwell on one point in particular which
may be helpful in the discussionche taking place today on certain moral
problems: the discernment of the signs of the time. The Second Vatican Council
declared,
“In every age the church carries the responsibility of
reading the signs of the time and of interpreting them in the light of the
Gospel, if it is to carry out its task. In language intelligible to every
generation, it should be able to answer the ever-recurring questions which
people ask about the meaning of this present life and of the life to come, and
how one is related to the other.” [1]
It is clear that if Church has to discern the signs of the
times in the light of the gospel, it does not do so by applying long-standing
measures and rules to the “times,” that is, the problems and situations
that emerge in society, but rather by giving new responses, “intelligible to
every generation” starting each time from the gospel. The difficulty that is
encountered on this path—and which must be taken seriously—is the fear of
compromising the authority of the magisterium by admitting changes in its
pronouncements.
There is a consideration, I believe, that can help overcome
this difficulty in the spirit of communion. The infallibility that the Church
and the pope claim is certainly not of a higher level than that which is
attributed to revealed Scripture. Biblical inerrancy ensures that the Scripture
writer expresses truth in the way and to the degree in which it could be
expressed and understood at the time he wrote it. We see that many truths are
articulated slowly and gradually, like the truth about the after-life and
eternal life. In the moral sphere as well, many prior customs and laws
are abandoned later to make way for laws and criteria that are more in
accordance with the spirit of the Covenant. One example from among many: Exodus
affirms that God will punish the children for the iniquities of the fathers
(see Ex 34:7), but Jeremiah and Ezekiel say the opposite, that God will not
punish the children for the sins of the fathers but that each person will be
held responsible for his or her own actions (see Jer 31:29-30; Ez 18:1ff).
In the Old Testament the criterion by which people move
beyond earlier proscriptions is a better understanding of the spirit of the
Covenant and of the Torah. In the Church the criterion is a continuous
re-reading of the Gospels in the light of new questions that are put to it. “Scriptura
cum legentibus crescit,” said St. Gregory the Great: “Scripture grows with
those who read it.” [2]
We know that the constant rule for Jesus’ actions in the
Gospels, in moral questions, can be summarized in seven words: “No to sin, yes
to the sinner.” No one is more severe than he is in condemning unjustly
acquired wealth, but he invites himself to Zacchaeus’ house, and simply by
going there to meet him he brings a change. He condemns adultery, even
that of the heart, but he forgives the adulteress and gives hope back to her;
he reaffirms the indissolubility of marriage, but he engages in conversation
with the Samaritan woman who has already had five husbands, and he reveals to
her the secret he had told no one else in such an explicit way: “I who speak to
you am he [the Messiah]” (Jn 4:26).
If we ask ourselves how to justify theologically such a
clear-cut distinction between the sinner and sin, the answer is very
simple: sinners are God’s creatures, created by him and made in his image, and
they maintain their dignity despite all their aberrations; sin is not the work
of God: it does not come from him but from the enemy. It is the same reason why
the Son of God became everything human beings are, “except sin” (see Heb.
4:15).
One important factor in accomplishing this task is the
collegiality of the bishops, which the Council itself emphasized. Collegiality
allows the bishops “to reach agreement on questions of major importance, a
balanced decision being made possible thanks to the number of those giving
counsel.” [3] The effective exercise of collegiality brings to bear on
discernment and the solution to problems the diversity of local situations,
points of view, insights and different gifts, which are present in every church
and with every bishop.
We have a moving example of this in the first “council” of
the Church, the Council of Jerusalem. That meeting allowed ample opportunity to
both of the opposing points of view, those of the Judaizers and those who
favored an openness to the pagans. There was “much debate,” but in the end they
all agreed to announce their decision with this extraordinary formula: “It has
seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us . . .” (Acts 15: 28; see Acts 15:6ff).
We can see from this how the Spirit guides the Church in two
different ways: sometimes in a direct, charismatic way through revelations and
prophetic inspirations, and at other times in a collegial way, through the
painstaking and difficult confrontation, and even compromise, between the
different parties and points of view. Peter’s discourse on the day of Pentecost
and at Cornelius’s house is very different from the one he later gave to
justify his decision in front of the elders (see Acts 11:4-18; 15:14).
We need, therefore, to have confidence in the ability of the
Spirit to achieve that accord in the end, even if at times it can seem as if
the whole process is getting out of hand. Whenever pastors of the Christian
churches gather together at the local or international level to discern or to
make important decisions, each one should have a heartfelt, confident certainty
of what the Veni Creator sums up in two verses: Ductore sic te praevio
/ vitemus omne noxium, “So shall we not, with Thee for guide, / turn from
the path of life aside.”
2. Discernment in our own lives
Let us move on to discernment in our own lives. As a charism
applied to individuals, the discernment of spirits underwent a significant
evolution over the centuries. Originally, as we have seen, the gift functioned
to discern the inspirations of others, of those who had spoken or prophesied in
an assembly. Later, it functioned mainly to discern one’s own inspirations.
This was not an arbitrary evolution of the gift: it was in
fact the same gift even though it was used for different purposes. A large part
of what spiritual authors have written concerning the “gift of counsel” also
applies to the charism of discernment. Through the gift, or charism, of
counsel, the Holy Spirit helps us to evaluate situations and to orient our
choices based not only on human wisdom and prudence but also in the light of
the supernatural principles of faith.
The primary and fundamental discernment of spirits is the
one that allows us to distinguish the “the Spirit of God” from “the spirit of
the world” (1 Cor 2:12). St. Paul offers an objective criterion for discernment
that is the same Jesus gave: the fruit. The “works of the flesh” demonstrate
that a given desire has come from the old sinful nature, while “the fruits of
the Spirit” reveal that a desire has come from the Spirit (see Gal 5:19-22).
“The desires of the flesh are against the Spirit, and the desires of the Spirit
are against the flesh.” (Gal 5:17)
At times, however, this objective criterion is inadequate
because the choice is not between good and bad but between one good and another
good, and the question is to discern what God wants in a specific circumstance.
It was precisely in response to this need that Saint Ignatius of Loyola
developed his teaching on discernment. He invites us to consider one thing
above all: our own interior dispositions, the intentions (the “spirits”) that
lie behind a choice. In so doing, he was aligning himself with an already
established tradition. One medieval author had written,
“No one can test the spirits to see if they are from God
unless God has given him discernment of spirits to enable him to investigate
spiritual thoughts, inclinations and intentions with honest and true judgment.
Discernment is the mother of all virtues; everyone needs it either to guide the
lives of others or to direct and reform his own life. . . . This then is true
discernment, a combination of right thinking and good intention.” [4]
St. Ignatius proposed practical ways to apply these
criteria. [5] For example, when you have two possible choices before you, it is
good to select one of them as though you were about to follow it, and to remain
in that stance for a day or more. You then evaluate your inner reaction
to that choice to see if it brings peace, if it is in harmony with other
choices you have made, if there is something within you that encourages you in
that direction, or, on the contrary, if it leaves you with a cloud of
uneasiness. Then you repeat that process with your other potential choice.
At the root of Saint Ignatius’s teaching on discernment is
his doctrine of “holy indifference.” [6] It consists in placing oneself in a
state of total willingness to accept the will of God, giving up all personal
preference, like a scale ready to tip to the side where the greatest weight is.
The experience of interior peace thus becomes the main criterion in all
discernment. After long consideration and prayer, the choice that is
accompanied by the greatest peace of heart must be the one retained.
It is essentially a question of putting into practice the
ancient advice that Moses’ father-in-law gave him: “present the questions to
God” and wait in prayer for his response (Ex 18:19). A deep-seated habitual
disposition to do God’s will in every situation puts a person in the most
favorable position for good discernment. Jesus said, “My judgment is just
because I seek not my own will but the will of him who sent me” (Jn 5:30).
The danger in some modern approaches to understanding and
practising discernment is an emphasis on its psychological aspects to the point
of forgetting the primary agent in each discernment, the Holy Spirit. Saint
John sees the decisive factor in discernment in being “anointed by the Holy
One” (1 Jn 2:20). Saint Ignatius also mentions that in certain cases only the
anointing of the Holy Spirit allows us to discern what we should do. [7] There
is a profound theological reason for this. The Holy Spirit is himself “the
substantial will of God,” so when he enters into a soul, this “Will of God . . .
makes himself known to the person into whom he pours himself.” [8]
Discernment, in its essence, is not an art or a technique
but a charism, a gift of the Spirit! Its psychological aspects are of great
importance, but they always come second. One of the ancient Fathers wrote,
“Only the Holy Spirit can purify the mind. . . . So by every
means, but especially by peace of soul, we must try to provide the Holy Spirit
with a resting place. Then we shall have the light of knowledge shining within
us at all times, and it will show up for what they are all the dark and hateful
temptations that come from demons, and not only will it show them up: exposure
to this holy and glorious light will also greatly diminish their power. That is
why the Apostle says: Do not stifle the Spirit. [1 Thess 5:19]”. [9]
The Holy Spirit does not normally shed his light in our soul
in an extraordinary or miraculous way but very simply through the words of
Scripture. The most important exemples discernment in the history of the Church
have come about this way. It was in hearing the saying from the Gospel, “If you
want to be perfect . . . ,” that the Desert Father Anthony understood what he
needed to do, and he founded monasticism.
This was also the way that Saint Francis of Assisi received
the inspiration to initiate his movement of a return to the Gospel. He writes
in his Testament, “After the Lord gave me some brothers, no one showed me what
I had to do, but the Most High himself revealed to me that I should live
according to the pattern of the Holy Gospel.” [10] It was revealed to him
during Mass after listening to the passage from the Gospel in which Jesus tells
the disciples to go into the world and “take nothing for your journey: no
staff, nor bag, nor bread, nor money; and do not have two tunics” (Lk 9:3).
[11]
I myself remember a small example of this same sort of
thing. A man came to me during a mission and shared his problem with me. He had
an eleven-year-old son who had not been baptized. He said, “If I baptize him,
there will be trouble at home because my wife has become a Jehovah’s Witness.
If I do not baptize him, my conscience will be uneasy because when we were
married, we were both Catholic and promised to raise our children in the
Church.” I told him to come back the next day because I needed time to pray and
reflect. The next day he came to me radiant and told me, “I found the solution,
Father. I was reading in the Bible about Abraham, and I saw that when he took
his son Isaac to be offered in sacrifice, he didn’t mention anything to his
wife!” The Word of God enlightened him better than any human advice could have.
I baptized the boy myself, and it was a great joy for everyone.
Alongside listening to the Word, the most common practice
for exercising discernment on a personal level is the examination of
conscience. This practice should not be limited, however, only to preparation
for confession but should become a continuous excercise of placing ourselves
under God’s light to let him “search” our innermost being. If an examination of
conscience is not done or not done well, even the grace of confession becomes
problematic: either we do not know what to confess or we are too full of
psychological or voluntaristic efforts, that is, we are aiming only at
self-improvement. An examination of conscience limited to preparing for
confession identifies some sins, but it does not lead to an authentic
one-on-one relationship with Christ. It easily becomes just a list of
imperfections that we confess so that we can feel better without the attitude
of real repentance that makes us experience the joy of having “so great a
Redeemer” in Jesus.
3. “Led by the Spirit”
The concrete fruit of this meditation should be a renewed
decision to entrust ourselves completely and for everything to the inner guidance
of the Holy Spirit as a kind of “spiritual direction.” It is written that
“whenever the cloud was taken up from over the tabernacle, the sons of Israel
would go onward; but if the cloud was not taken up, then they did not go
onward” (Ex 40:36-37). Neither should we undertake anything unless the Holy
Spirit moves us (according to the Fathers, the cloud was a figure for him [12])
and unless we have consulted him before every action.
We have the most vivid example of this in Jesus’ life
itself. He never undertook anything without the Holy Spirit. He went into the
desert with the Holy Spirit; he returned in the power of the Spirit and began
his preaching; he chose his apostles “through the Holy Spirit” (Acts 1:2); he
prayed and offered himself to the Father “through the eternal Spirit” (Heb
9:14).
We need to guard against a certain temptation, the
temptation of wanting to give advice to the Holy Spirit instead of receiving
it. “Who has directed the Spirit of the Lord, / or as his counsellor has
instructed him?” (Is 40:13). The Holy Spirit directs everyone and is himself
directed by no one; he guides and is not guided. There is a subtle way of
suggesting to the Holy Spirit what he should to do with us and how he should
guide us. We even make our own decisions at times and then attribute them
flippantly to the Holy Spirit.
Saint Thomas Aquinas speaks about this inner leading of the
Holy Spirit as a kind of “instinct of the righteous”: “As in bodily life the
body is not moved save by the soul, by which it has life, so in the spiritual
life all of our movements should be through the Holy Spirit.” [13] This is how
the “law of the Spirit” works; this is what the Apostle calls being “led by the
Spirit” (Gal 5:18).
We need to abandon ourselves totally to the Holy Spirit,
like the strings of a harp to the fingers that pluck them. Like good actors, we
need to listen attentively to the voice of the hidden prompter, so that we may
recite our part faithfully on the stage of life. This is easier than some might
think because our prompter speaks within us, teaches us everything, and
instructs us about everything. At times we need only a simple glance inward, a
movement of the heart, a prayer. We read this beautiful eulogy about a saintly
bishop who lived in the second century, Melito of Sardis, that we would hope
could be said of each of us after we die: he “lived entirely in the Holy
Spirit.” [14]
Let us ask the Paraclete to direct our minds and our whole
lives with the words from a prayer recited in the Office for Pentecost in the
Syrian Rite:
“Spirit, dispenser of charisms to everyone;
Spirit of wisdom and knowledge, who so loves us all,
you fill the prophets, perfect the apostles,
strengthen the martyrs, inspire the teachers with teaching!
To you, our Paraclete God,
we send up our supplication along with this fragrant
incense.
We ask you to renew us with your holy gifts,
to come down upon us as you came down on the Apostles in the
upper room.
Pour out your charisms upon us,
fill us with knowledge of your teaching;
make us temples of your glory,
let us be overcome by the wine of your grace.
Grant that we may live for you, be of one mind with you, and
adore you,
you the pure, you the holy, God Spirit Paraclete.” [15]
[1] Gaudium et spes [Pastoral Constitution on the Church
in the Modern World], n. 4, in The Documents of Vatican Council II, ed.
Austin Flannery (Northport, NY: Costello, 1995), p. 165.
[2] Gregory the Great, Homilies on Ezekiel 1.7, 8 (CCC
94).
[3] Lumen Gentium [Dogmatic Constitution on the Church],
n. 22, p. 29.
[4] Baldwin of Canterbury, “Treatise 6,” Second Reading
for Friday of the Ninth Week of Ordinary Time in The Office of Readings, pp.
334-335; see also PL 204, p. 466.
[5] See The Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius, Fourth
Week, trans. Anthony Mottola (New York: Doubleday, 1989), 101-128.
[6] Cf. G. Bottereau, “Indifference, ” in Dictionnaire de
Spiritualité, vol. 7, coll. 1688 ff.
[7] Saint Ignatius Loyloa, The Constitutions of the
Society of Jesus, 141, 414, trans. and comm. George E. Ganss (St. Louis, MO:
The Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1969), p. 126, 204.
[8] See William of St. Thierry, The Mirror of Faith, 61,
trans. Thomas X. Davis (Kalamazoo, MI: Cistercian Publications, 1979), p. 49;
see also SCh 301, p. 128.
[9] Diadochus of Photice, On Spiritual Perfection, 28,
Second Reading for Wednesday of the Fourth Week of Ordinary Time, in The Office
of Readings, p. 227, italics original; see also SCh 5, p. 87 ff.
[10] Francis of Assisi, “Testament of Saint Francis,” in
Francis of Assisi: Early Documents, vol. 1: The Saint, eds. Regis J. Armstrong
et al. (New York: New City Press, 1999), p. 124. See also Fontes Franciscanas,
p. 356.
[11] See Thomas of Celano, First Life, 22, trans.
Christopher Stace (London: Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, 2000), p.
24; see also ED, I, p. 201.
[12] See St. Ambrose On the Holy Spirit, III, 4, 21
(N.p.: Veritatis Splendor Publications, 2014), p. 177; and On the
Sacraments, I, 6, 22, in “On the Sacraments” and “On the mysteries,” trans. Tom
Thompson (London: S.P.C.K., 1950), p. 56.
[13] Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on the Letter to the
Galatians, V, 5, n. 318, in Commentary on the Letters of Saint Paul to the
Galatians and Ephesians, eds. John Mortensen and Enrique Alarcón, trans. Fabian
R. Larcher and Matthew Lamb (Lander, WY: Aquinas Institute for the Study of
Sacred Doctrine, 2011), p. 150; see also V, 7, n. 340, and Commentary on the
Gospel of John, VI, 5, 3.
[14] Eusebius of Caesarea, The History of the Church, V,
24, 5, ed. Andrew Louth, trans. G. A. Williamson (New York: Penguin Books,
19650, p. 172.
[15] Pontificale Syrorum, in Emmanuel-Pataq Siman,
L’expérience de l’Esprit par l’Église d’après la tradition syrienne d’Antioche
(Paris: Beauchesne, 1971), p. 309.
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