“When Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world to the Father, having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end” (Jn13:1). The Upper Room recalls the last supper of our Lord with Peter and the other apostles and invites the Church to prayerful contemplation. In this vein we gather together, the Successor of Peter with successors of the apostles, in this same place where Jesus revealed in the offering of his own body and blood, the new depths of the covenant of love established between God and his people. In the Upper Room the mystery of grace and salvation, of which we are recipients and also heralds and ministers, can be expressed only in terms of love. Because he has loved us first and continues to do so, we can respond with love (cf. Deus Caritas Est, 2). Our life as Christians is not simply a human effort to live the demands of the Gospel imposed upon us as duties. In the Eucharist we are drawn into the mystery of divine love. Our lives become a grateful, docile and active acceptance of the power of a love which is given to us. This transforming love, which is grace and truth (cf. Jn 1:17), prompts us, as individuals and communities, to overcome the temptation to turn in upon ourselves in selfishness or indolence, isolation, prejudice or fear, and to give ourselves generously to the Lord and to others. It moves us as Christian communities to be faithful to our mission with frankness and courage (cf. Acts 4:13). In the Good Shepherd who lays down his life for his flock, in the Teacher who washes the feet of his disciples, you find, my dear brothers, the model of your own ministry in the service of our God who promotes love and communion.
The call to communion of mind and heart, so closely related to the commandment of love and to the central unifying role of the Eucharist in our lives, is of special relevance in the Holy Land. The different Christian Churches found here represent a rich and varied spiritual patrimony and are a sign of the multiple forms of interaction between the Gospel and different cultures. They also remind us that the mission of the Church is to preach the universal love of God and to gather, from far and near, all who are called by him, in such a way that, with their traditions and their talents, they form the one family of God. A new spiritual impulse towards communion in diversity within the Catholic Church and a new ecumenical awareness have marked our times, especially since the Second Vatican Council. The Spirit moves our hearts gently towards humility and peace, towards mutual acceptance, comprehension and cooperation. This inner disposition to unity under the prompting of the Holy Spirit is decisive if Christians are to fulfill their mission in the world (cf. Jn:17:21).
A marvelous, moving speech, offering much needed encouragement to the beleagured and rapidly dwidling Catholic Church in the Mid East, as so many Christians who have the means or option to do so flee the strife, hardships, danger, and endless turmoil of that volatile area.
But what I appreciated most was the warm, affectionate, pastoral, and yes, biblical tone of this address. “Brother Bishops,” he begins, and the whole tone of the speech is suffused with love, humility, and tenderness. This kind of affectionate speech shows how groundless were the fears of so many when Joseph Ratzinger was elected pope after serving for so long as John Paul the Great’s doctrinal watchdog. The staunchly orthodox Bavarian theologian who was often perceived as God’s Rotweiller has indeed turned out to be a German Shepherd instead.
Apart from the final paragraph with its prayer to Mary as the Queen of Heaven, this is a speech that any Protestant (or Anglican) can wholeheartedly applaud.
The pope is a man and Christian leader I can admire without reservation. Alas, as an Anglican, the same isn’t true for me with regard to the Archbishop of Canterbury.
David Handy+