With his shy smile, flowing vestments, gold cross and red shoes, Pope Benedict XVI cut quite a figure as he arrived in the United States. His presence seemed to transform, if only momentarily, time and place. His words did as well.
Pope Benedict XVI is a craftsman of words. You might think of his speeches during his recent visit to the U.S. as a carefully constructed essay.
Before he left, he introduced the theme or thesis of his journey – “Christ our Hope.” On the plane to the U.S., he presented several sub-themes, and just before returning to Italy, he offered something of a summary.
From the outset, the Holy Father made clear that his trip would be pastoral and affirming, not partisan. He practically gushed in admiration on his flight over, “I am going most joyfully to the United States!”
To Archbishop Alfred Hughes, he acknowledged “the immense suffering endured (in) New Orleans as a result of Hurricane Katrina, as well as … courage in the challenging work of rebuilding.
In his address on Catholic education, he spoke of “this outstanding apostolate of hope.” To educators, he said, “Your selfless contributions – from outstanding research to the dedication of those working in inner city schools – serve both your country and the Church.”
A pastor also challenges. Before even landing, the Pope addressed the “sexual abuse of minors.” He spoke of great suffering. “I am ashamed,” he said. He sought prevention in the future and justice now. And he returned to this topic again, even meeting with abuse victims.
To be sure, the Pope could have done more in this regard; one can always do more. Yet, words, especially from a Pope, have consequences. These can too.
Benedict challenged in other areas. To President Bush, he praised the United Nations’ “global solidarity” and “international diplomacy.” Of educators, he asked, “Is the faith … given fervent expression liturgically, sacramentally, through prayer, acts of charity, a concern for justice and respect for God’s creation?” He spoke in support of immigrants and worried about the “anti-immigration” movement. He touched on obedience and emphasized fidelity to Gospel values.
There is much more to be said, but I conclude with a vexed and pressing issue for universities, about which much ink has been spilled. Benedict “reaffirm(ed) the great value of academic freedom.” He “called (us) to search for the truth wherever careful analysis of evidence leads.”
Yet, he rejected “any appeal to the principle of academic freedom in order to justify positions that contradict the faith and the teaching of the Church.” In sum, arguments must be founded on evidence, and the assertion of academic freedom does not of itself qualify as evidence.
In the same speech, he mentioned “intellectual charity,” which reminds me of Pope John XXIII’s words, “In essentials, unity; in doubtful matters, liberty; in all things, charity.
Given that we are, as Pope Benedict intones in the Eucharistic Prayer at mass, a “pilgrim Church on earth” and that advanced scholarship has always been fraught-think of Galileo whom Pope John Paul II officially rehabilitated in 1992 – might charity here be the key?
Would it make a difference if researchers pursued their studies and defenders of the faith asserted the truth – all within the context of charity? Something to ponder.
As Pope Benedict XVI departed New York, his attire was again, as it had been from the start, exceptional.
It suggested that this was indeed a special moment, as were all the moments of his visit. But his fashion statement was meant to do more than to elevate these moments above others.
It also gave us practice in seeing that no visit is normal – we always have the opportunity to entertain angels (see Hebrews 13:2). All time is suffused with the extra-ordinary. We just need help recognizing this, and Pope Benedict XVI, through his words and presence, offered this help.
Tom Ryan is the director for the Loyola Institute for Ministry and can be reached at [email protected].
