| #50 ffffffffff26.05.2005 - 21:13 |
| Bernhard von Clairvaux: Zugang über die Bibelerfahrung Die Vermittlung von Gotteserfahrung bei Bernhard von Clairvaux Mainz. Die Bibelauslegung von Bernhard von Clairvaux kann auch heute noch ein fruchtbarer Zugang zur Heiligen Schrift sein. Vor allem in den Predigten zeige sich Bernhards Bemühen, die Zuhörer zu einer eigenen Gotteserfahrung anhand eines Schriftwortes zu führen, sagte Dr. Dagmar Heller, in Genf tätige Pfarrerin der badischen Landeskirche, in ihrem Vortrag "Schriftauslegung und geistliche Erfahrung bei Bernhard von Clairvaux" am Montag abend, 18. Januar. In den Erbacher Hof eingeladen hatte die Akademie des Bistums Mainz im Rahmen der Vortragsreihe "900 Jahre Citeaux". Im Sinne einer Vermittlung von Gotteserfahrung könnten die Predigten Bernhards für moderne Prediger Vorbild sein, erklärte Heller. Herzstück von Bernhards Theologie seien seine Bibelauslegungen. In allen seinen Schriften falle sein biblischer Stil auf. Sein gesamtes Denken war von der Heiligen Schrift und ihren Bildern geprägt. Er benutzt häufig biblische Zitate, ohne sie besonders als solche zu kennzeichnen. Diese biblischen Wendungen finden sich auch teilweise in einem ganz anderen Zusammenhang als sie in der Bibel auftauchen. Wenn er jedoch ein Bibelzitat zur Beglaubigung seiner Ausführungen gebraucht, habe Bernhard dies mit bestimmten sprachlichen Formeln gekennzeichnet. Weiter erklärte Heller, daß für Bernhard die Notwendigkeit der Bibelauslegung selbstverständlich gewesen sei. Nach seiner Auffassung war die menschliche Rede über die göttlichen Geheimnisse in der Heiligen Schrift eben nur eine unvollständige Wiedergabe, die der Auslegung bedarf. Der buchstäbliche Sinn des Textes müsse aufgebrochen werden, damit der eigentliche Sinn hervortreten könne. Im Bild gesprochen ist die Heilige Schrift für Bernhard "Nahrung des Menschen auf dem Weg zu Gott", denn in der Bibel bestehe die Möglichkeit, Gott zu erfahren und so dem Ziel der vollkommenen Gemeinschaft mit Gott näherzukommen. Bernhard bediente sich der im Mittelalter üblichen Allegorese als gängiger Form der Schriftauslegung, die hinter dem Wortlaut einen verborgenen Sinn sucht. Am Beispiel von Bernhards 51. Predigt über das "Hohelied" erläuterte Dagmar Heller die Methode und deren Besonderheit bei Bernhard von Clairvaux. Insgesamt unterscheide die Allegorese vier verschiedene Schriftsinne. Zunächst den wörtlichen Sinn einer Bibelstelle, also die buchstäbliche Bedeutung des Textes. Erst in einem zweiten Schritt eröffnet dann der geistliche Sinn des Textes eine übertragende Bedeutung, wie zum Beispiel Bernhard im Hohenlied die Figur der Braut mit der Kirche und die Figur dsr Bräutigams mit Christus identifiziere. Der moralische Sinn nimmt dann die Bedeutung für das Leben des einzelnen Menschen in den Blick. Am bedeutendsten war jedoch für Bernhard der mystische Sinn. Allerdings ist dieser Sinn nur schwer objektiv zu vermitteln. Es geht vielmehr um die eigene, individuelle Erfahrung eines Menschen mit dem Text. An dieser Stelle findet sich in Bernhards Predigten meistens ein Abschnitt über seine in der Kontemplation gemachten Erfahrungen mit dem jeweiligen Schriftwort. Und genau in dieser eigenen Erfahrung des einzelnen wird für Bernhard die Schriftstelle gegenwärtig und Gott im Leben der Menschen durch die Heilige Schrift erfahrbar. Dies sei das Prinzip aller Predigten Bernhards: Dem Hörer solle ermöglicht werden, einen Schriftvers aus eigener Erfahrung zu verstehen und ihm so in der Gegenwart Bedeutung zu verleihen. BL (MBN) |
| #49 gggggggHomepage26.05.2005 - 20:56 |
| http://www.glaubenheute.de/zeugnis/bekannte/martinizeugnis.htm www.jknirp.com/ authors.htm Die Gestalt Jesu - Mein Reisebericht von Carlo M. Martini Erzbischof von Mailand, 1983 zum Kardinal ernannt, wurde 1927 in Turin geboren. 1944 Eintritt in den Jesuitenorden, Professor für Bibelwissenschaften, bereits mit 40 Jahren Rektor des Bibelinstitutes und dann der Universität Gregoriana in Rom. Er gehört zu den heute meist gelesenen geistlichen Autoren. Bei zahlreichen Exerzitien (u. a. vor Papst Paul VI. im Vatikan, 1978) hat er vielen Menschen geholfen, die Bedeutung des Glaubens im Wort der Heiligen Schrift für ihr Leben neu zu entdecken. In seiner ungewöhnlichen Persönlichkeit verbinden sich wissenschaftliche Begabung und pastorale Erfahrung mit liebenswürdigem Wesen und geistlicher Ausstrahlungskraft. Kardinal Martini bringt die Botschaft der Bibel dem Menschen in zeitgemäßer Sprache nahe. Von der Gestalt Jesu zu sprechen betrachte ich jetzt, da ich bald siebzig bin, als eine Herausforderung, als Impuls, von den Anfängen her nochmals zu überdenken, was mir die Gestalt des Herrn bedeutete, wie sich der abenteuerliche Weg mit Jesus Christus entfaltet hat, in welchen Etappen, mit welchen dunklen, mit welchen lichtvollen Momenten. Ich halte es allerdings für schwierig, auf abstrakte oder distanzierte Art von seiner Gestalt zu sprechen. Denn es gehört zur Gestalt Jesu, daß sie jeden, der in ihre Nähe kommt, nicht mehr losläßt. Wenn ich in meinen Ausführungen rein theoretisch bleiben würde, hätte ich den Eindruck, etwas zu sagen, was ich nicht empfinde, und nicht sagen zu können, was ich empfinde. Den Begegnungen mit ihm entspricht es mehr, wenn ich persönlich spreche und den konkreten Weg beschreibe, auf welchem mir in verschiedenen Etappen und Momenten die Gestalt Jesu nähergekommen ist. Ich erzähle also eine Art Autobiographie, berichte von einer Reise und mische dabei - ohne sie zu vermischen subjektive und objektive Elemente. Zu den objektiven zählen die geschichtlichen Daten des Lebens Jesu, zu den subjektiven die oft mühsamen Wegstrecken, über die ich diese Daten und Fakten kennen und richtig einschätzen gelernt, mich mit ihnen auseinandergesetzt und sie in mein Wissen und die Gestaltung meines Lebens integriert habe. Ich spreche in der dritten und in der ersten Person, in der Einzahl und in der Mehrzahl (ich" und wir"  . Ich bringe von mir etwas zur Sprache, was auch von jedem anderen stammen könnte. Ich erzähle ein Abenteuer, das sinnbildhaft sein kann und, so hoffe ich es, zum Nachdenken anregt beziehungsweise hilft, die eigene Antwort vorzubereiten.Es handelt sich um ein Abenteuer, dessen Zeitabschnitte sich gliedern lassen. In Anspielung auf einen kürzlich erschienenen und bereits stark diskutierten Roman, der von drei Phasen des menschlichen Lebens spricht: von Feuer, Erde, Wind - von einer Zeit des Wachstums, einer Zeit der Auseinandersetzung und einer Zeit der Versöhnung - und in einem freien Bezug auf die Theophanie, die der Prophet Elija auf dem Horeb erlebte (vgl. 1 Könige 19,11-13) und in der sich die Gegenwart Gottes geheimnisvoll im Feuer, im Wind, im Erdbeben und schließlich in einem leisen, sanften Säuseln zeigte, unterteile ich meinen Bericht in fünf Abschnitte. Ich benutze dabei fünf Symbole: das Feuer, die Erde, den Wind, das Erdbeben und das sanfte, leise Säuseln des Schweigens. Seitenübersicht Die Zeit der Faszination oder: Die Zeit des Feuers Die Reise hat für mich schon sehr früh begonnen: in der Kindheit, in den ersten Jahren der Jugend. Es ist die Geschichte eines Jungen, der Jesus kennenlernte - zu Hause in der Familie, im Rahmen der Schule, in der Umgebung, in der er lebte -, von ihm fasziniert war und sich in ihn verliebte. Er hat auch sofort verstanden, daß man mit einer solchen Gestalt nicht spielen darf: Entweder läßt man sich ganz auf sie ein oder man läßt sie ganz sein. Es ist eine Zeit, da die Kenntnisse zunehmen und mit Freude angefüllt sind. Die Zeit des Feuers. Er lernt, die Evangelien zu lesen, staunt über die Klarheit der Worte, den Reichtum der Aussagen, die Kraft der Urteile, die Unerschrockenheit der Entscheidungen, die Geschlossenheit dieser Zeugnisse über Jesus. Alles wirkt ursprünglich, frisch, neu, unerwartet, strahlend, fordernd, einfach; es liegt auf der Hand und weist zugleich über sich hinaus. Der Junge erlebt, was André Gide ausgedrückt hat: Ich lausche deinem Wort, weil es schön ist,. schöner als jedes menschliche Wort." Seitenübersicht Die Zeit der Fragen und Zweifel oder: Die Zeit der Erde Diese erste, glückliche Zeit dauert jedoch nicht lange. Ihr folgt ein zweiter Abschnitt, den wir als die Etappe der Fragen und Zweifel bezeichnen können. Die Etappe der Erde. Es stellen sich Fragen ein, vorerst kaum merklich, dann hartnäckiger: Ist es wirklich so? Woher können wir wissen, ob die Evangelien die Wahrheit sagen? Ob sich die Ereignisse so abgespielt haben? Worin besteht das geschichtliche Fundament dessen, was diese Bücher über Jesus erzählen? Weshalb verdienen diese Werke unseren Glauben? Besteht nicht die Gefahr, daß sie eine Gestalt aufbauen, die letztlich nur dank der Phantasie von ein paar früheren Fanatikern existiert? Alles, was über Jesus gesagt wird, ist gut und recht, aber entspricht es der Wirklichkeit? Der Junge beschließt, alles zu lesen, was er über die geschichtlichen Hintergründe zur Gestalt Jesu auftreiben kann. Er durchstöbert die Bibliotheken und hört sich die Ausführungen derer an, die mehr zu wissen scheinen. Doch die Befriedigung stellt sich nicht ein, es bleibt eine Enttäuschung. Aus den Antworten entstehen bloß neue Fragen. Er gewinnt den Eindruck, daß diejenigen, die seine Fragen im Hinblick auf das geschichtliche Fundament der Gestalt Jesu beantworten, es in einer gewissen Oberflächlichkeit tun und vorgefaßten Meinungen aufsitzen, ja daß sie sich letztlich nur den unangenehmen Fragen des Jungen entziehen wollen oder eine Sache verteidigen, die für sie schon gelaufen ist und zu der sie schon Stellung bezogen haben. Und Lösungen, die man vorausgeahnt hat, können nie ganz befriedigen. Die zweite Etappe der Fragen und Zweifel läßt sich deshalb auch als die Zeit der zu schnellen, zu oberflächlichen und ausweichenden Antworten bezeichnen. Das Geheimnis der Gestalt Jesu allerdings verdichtet sich, wenn sich die Fragen vermehren. Seitenübersicht Die Zeit der Unerbittlichkeit oder: Die Zeit des heftigen Windes Es folgt nun - für mein damaliges, fünfundzwanzigjähriges Leben ein Glücksfall - die Zeit der Unerbittlichkeit, die Zeit des heftigen Windes, von dem das erste Buch der Könige spricht: Ein starker, heftiger Sturm, der die Berge zerriß und die Felsen zerbrach" (19,11). Mein Wunsch, der Wahrheit über Jesus bis auf den Grund nachzugehen, trifft sich dank glücklicher Umstände der Zeit und des Ortes mit der Möglichkeit, mich ganz dem wissenschaftlichen Studium der christlichen Anfänge widmen zu können. Ich studiere die Sprachen, in denen die biblischen Bücher geschrieben wurden (Hebräisch, Aramäisch, Griechisch), ich lese die alten Papyri und Kodizes und beschäftige mich mit den archäologischen Funden und der Geschichte jener Kulturen, im Rahmen derer sich die Ereignisse der Evangelien abgespielt haben usw. Dies ist eine Arbeit, in der es keine Pause gibt, eine Entdeckungsfahrt, auf der man an kein Ende kommt. Es braucht einen starken Willen, eben den Willen eines heftigen Windes, damit man vor der Menge der Daten nicht kapituliert. Doch der Einsatz lohnt sich. Denn in dieser Zeit, die wir die Zeit der Unerbittlichkeit und des gewaltigen Windes genannt haben, gewinnt er viele Kenntnisse und die Fähigkeit, sich in vielen Dingen selber zu orientieren und sich selber Antworten zu geben. Doch das Abenteuer ist damit noch nicht zu Ende. Seitenübersicht Die Zeit der Prüfung oder: Die Zeit des Erdbebens Die dritte Phase brachte mich in Kontakt mit einer Menge von Texten und Belegen für die damalige Zeit, so daß ich genauer und wissenschaftlich belegen konnte, was sich von Jesus aussagen läßt. Und solche Forschungen laufen auch heute noch weiter, nur kann ich sie nicht mehr aus der Nähe verfolgen. Die neuesten Diskussionen darüber, daß einige Papyri in ihrer Entstehungszeit doch früher angesetzt werden müssen, zeigen, daß wir heute besser als früher die große Authentizität der Evangelien nachweisen können. Diese Datierungsfrage ist wichtig. Ich bin hier anderer Meinung als jene, die sagen, heute sollte weniger nach der Beglaubigung der Geschichte, nach dem Dokument, gesucht werden, als vielmehr nach dem prophetischen Gehalt der Botschaft. Der prophetische Gehalt ist sicher notwendig, aber wehe uns, wenn die Geschichte fehlt, wenn uns die Dokumente nicht mehr den Weg zum Gestein der Fakten erschließen. Selbstverständlich genügt das Dokument allein nicht. Alles muß fein durchgesiebt werden. Die Zeit der Unerbittlichkeit mußte durch die Zeit der Prüfung ergänzt werden, durch eine Zeit, in der alles in Frage gestellt wurde. Ich denke hier an das Wort, das Jesus zu Petrus gesagt hat: »Simon, Simon, der Satan hat verlangt, daß er euch wie Weizen sieben darf" (Lukas 22,31). Das Sieb der Prüfung kommt nicht zufällig, es handelt sich vielmehr um einen entscheidenden Augenblick, den Augenblick des Erdbebens, um auf die Elija-Geschichte anzuspielen. Es ist die Zeit, in der der Glaube geschüttelt und geprüft wird. Die Prüfung ist für mich auf folgende Art gekommen. Zum Studium der Quellen und der alten Zeugnisse über Jesus gehörte auch die Beschäftigung mit den alten und modernen Bibelkommentaren, vor allem mit den Interpretationen seit 1700, seit dem Aufkommen der kritischen Geschichtswissenschaft, der Aufklärung und dem Positivismus. Ich begann, alle Bücher und Interpretationen zu lesen, ich verschlang sie, arbeitete mich durch sie hindurch und suchte sie zu bewerten. Ich wollte sehen, wer Recht hatte. Bei dieser Anstrengung umfängt ihn mehrfach die Nacht des Geistes, auch die Nacht der Angst. Oft vergehen Tage, Wochen und Monate in einer starken inneren Spannung. Und es meldet sich der Verdacht: Gibt es überhaupt einen Ausweg aus dem Tunnel des kritischen Zweifels, der systematischen Infragestellung aller Daten? Ich möchte an dieser Stelle aber auch einen Dank formulieren, d. h. ich möchte den berühmten und sehr fordernden Anhängern des kritischen Rationalismus und den Meistern des Argwohns" im letzten und in unserem Jahrhundert meine Anerkennung aussprechen, denn sie haben mich mit allen nur möglichen, ja sogar mit den extremsten Einwänden gegen die Gestalt Jesu direkt konfrontiert: die Hypothese, daß Jesus, geschichtlich gesehen, gar nicht gelebt hat; die Ablehnung bestimmter Aussagen der Evangelisten; die Behauptung, es sei heute gar nicht mehr möglich, eine Jesus Biographie zu schreiben; die wissenschaftliche Kritik an den Versuchen, Worte und Taten Jesu zu rekonstruieren; die Zweifel gegenüber den wesentlichen Punkten seines Lebens usw. Für mich wurde es zu einer sehr fruchtbaren und anregenden Übung: vor keiner kritischen Frage die Flucht zu ergreifen, mich vielmehr den Fragen zu stellen, ja mich in Frage stellen zu lassen durch all die Versuche, die Gestalt Jesu zu reduzieren, bis zu ihrer Auflösung zu reduzieren, aus ihr eine mythische oder phantastische Gestalt zu machen oder sie zu reduzieren auf Aussagen der Folgezeit. Sergio Zavoli sagt, ein Christ des 20. Jahrhunderts müsse seine Fragen ohne Angst dem Feuer der Kritik aussetzen können und schauen, was von ihnen noch bleibt. Ich bin mit ihm ganz einverstanden. Ich habe mich systematisch dem Zweifel ausgesetzt, eine schmerzhafte und heilsame Erfahrung; denn im Bewußtsein, nach der Wahrheit zu suchen, war ich schutzlos. Es war wie die ständige Suche nach dem Gleichgewicht, und zwar auf einem Boden, der einem Erdbeben ausgesetzt war. Im Klartext heißt dies, daß ich ständig nach einer Antwort auf die fundamentale Frage suchen mußte: Sind dieses Wort Jesu, dieses Ereignis in seinem Leben, diese Verhaltensweisen ursprünglich? Stammen sie von ihm? Oder stammen sie aus einer späteren Zeit? Sind sie das Ergebnis der Begeisterung oder des Fanatismus von späteren Bewunderern und Anhängern? Sind sie das Produkt der schöpferischen Kräfte der ersten christlichen Gemeinden? Und wenn man davon auszugehen hat - und man muß davon ausgehen -, daß es in den christlichen Gemeinden vorerst eine mündliche und erst im Anschluß daran eine schriftliche Weitergabe der Worte und Taten Jesu gab, bis zu welchem Grad ist es dann überhaupt noch möglich, zu wissen, was Jesus wirklich gewollt, gesagt und getan hat? [...] So stößt man zum Beispiel auf die durchschlagende Kraft seiner Gleichnisse, die rätselhaft und präzis zugleich sind; die Unruhe, die von den paradoxen Aussagen seiner Seligpreisungen ausgeht; die folgerichtige Kritik an der religiösen Praxis seiner Zeit, seine Auseinandersetzungen mit der Institution; das grenzenlose Verzeihen, das er verkündet und mit dem er bei allen, die Recht und Gerechtigkeit vertreten, Anstoß erregt; seine Aufmerksamkeit gegenüber den Menschen am Rand oder außerhalb der gesellschaftlichen Anerkennung, seine Aufmerksamkeit gegenüber den Sündern bis hin zum Skandal; seinen Sinn für die Kranken und seine heilenden Berührungen, die Begeisterung, aber auch Neid hervorrufen; seinen Mut, aber auch seine Angst angesichts des Todes; die durch nichts zu unterdrückende Gewißheit seiner jünger, daß sie ihm, nachdem sie ihn bestattet haben, wieder begegnet sind und er lebte. Es sind Fakten und Worte, die keine Kritik - sie mag so zersetzend und radikal sein, wie sie will - erledigen kann, im Gegenteil: Sie (dies war meine Erfahrung) rückt ins Licht, was einzig als Erklärung gelten kann für das, was sich ereignet hat, und für die Entstehung der Zeugnisse über Jesus. Wir stehen in Jesus einer Gestalt gegenüber, die geschichtlich gesehen einzigartig und neu ist, die sich nicht so leicht in eine vorgegebene Typologie einordnen läßt. Es ist die Gestalt einer starken, aber auch offenen Persönlichkeit, umgänglich und präzise, bescheiden und mit unerhörten Ansprüchen, unbedeutend nach dem menschlichen Maßstab von Geschichte und Politik und zugleich fähig, den Herrschenden Angst einzujagen. Es ist die Gestalt eines Menschen, der wie ein Meteor vorübergezogen ist (im Höchstfall zwei oder drei Jahre öffentlicher Tätigkeit, also kaum die Zeit, bekannt zu werden) und dessen Wirksamkeit ein katastrophales Ende gefunden hat: ausgeschieden und verlassen von allen, die Macht besaßen, an den Rand gedrängt und vernichtet wie ein Wesen, das der Menschheit zum Schaden gereicht. Und doch ist es eine Figur, die aus der Geschichte seiner Zeit nicht mehr weggedacht werden kann; sie weckt Begeisterung und Ängste, wird schon bald von einigen als Prophet, Heiliger und Weiser, als Erneuerer anerkannt und von den andern als gefährlicher Umstürzler abgelehnt. Jesus kann offensichtlich der Erniedrigung seines Volkes einen Sinn geben und einen Weg in die Befreiung zeigen, indem er neue religiöse Horizonte eröffnet; gleichzeitig geht er gegen die überlieferten Ideen an und provoziert Spaltungen. Er scheint neue und packende Dinge zu sagen, und doch siedelt er sich ganz. im tradierten Rahmen seines Volkes an, schafft eine Kontinuität in der Sprache seiner Leute. All das zählt zu den Gegebenheiten in den Evangelien, die auch nach jedem Versuch einer wissenschaftlichen, systematischen Reduktion übrigbleiben. Es ist die Zeit des Siebes, der Prüfung, des Erdbebens, des Durchgangs durch den Stacheldrahtverhau der wissenschaftlichen Kritik. Sie schenkt vielen Fragen gegenüber eine zu friedenstellende Antwort, es tut gut, jetzt über die Gestalt Jesu nachzudenken. Und doch stellt sie uns vor noch schärfere und schwierigere Fragen, vor eine fünfte Etappe. [...] Seitenübersicht Die Zeit des Kampfes oder: Die Zeit des leisen, sanften Säuselns Die vier Etappen, die zur geschichtlichen Kenntnis der Gestalt Jesu führen (die Etappe der Faszination / des Feuers, diejenige der Fragen / der Erde, diejenige der Unerbittlichkeit / des Sturms und diejenige des Siebs oder des Kriegs der Interpretationen / des Erdbebens), die ich in einer biographischen Form vorgestellt habe, die aber die Etappen einer jeden ernsthaften Suche sind, bilden letztlich nur das Vorspiel zu jener tieferen Erkenntnis, in der unser Geist und unser Herz zur Ruhe kommen. An die Zeit der Verliebtheit, die Zeit der Zweifel und Fragen, die Zeit der Unerbittlichkeit und die Zeit der Prüfung, schließt sich die Zeit der Auseinandersetzung mit der Person Jesu an, eine Auseinandersetzung, die an kein Ende kommt. Sie gleicht dem Kampf Jakobs in der Nacht am Ufer des Jabbok, als ein Mann mit ihm rang, bis die Morgenröte aufstieg" (Genesis 32,25). Jakob kämpft mit jemandem, der stärker ist und den Griff nicht lockert, und die Morgenröte der vollen und unverhüllten Erkenntnis bricht noch nicht an. Trotz der Gewißheit, eine greifbare Wirklichkeit zu umfassen denn er wird gepackt und packt selber zu -, bleibt er in der Nacht. Es verhält sich ähnlich wie bei der letzten Erfahrung des Elija: Nach dem Sturm, dem Erdbeben und dem Feuer hört er ein leichtes Säuseln, ein kaum wahrnehmbares Rauschen; mit seinem Mantel bedeckt er sein Gesicht, denn er weiß, daß sich jetzt ereignet, worauf er gewartet hat (vgl. 1 Könige 19,13): Er tritt vor die Höhle und vernimmt die Stimme Gottes. Oder ohne all diese Bilder und Anspielungen: Ich möchte betonen, daß die Erkenntnis der Geschichtlichkeit Jesu nicht bei sich selber stehen bleibt, sondern auf die Fragen hinausläuft: Bist du bereit, meinen Worten als Worten, die von Gott kommen, Glauben zu schenken? Bist du bereit, meine Sendung anzuerkennen als eine Sendung, die vom Vater im Himmel stammt? Bist du bereit, mir im Tiefsten zu vertrauen wie Petrus, der sagt: Du bist der Messias, der Sohn des lebendigen Gottes!" (Matthäus 16,16)? Die fünfte Etappe ist die Etappe der Glaubenserkenntnis, jenes feinen Rauschens, das man kaum wahrnimmt. Sie fordert einen Sprung, den keinerlei Nachforschung historischer Art abnehmen kann, einen Schritt, den jeder in seinem eigenen Innern und vor dem eigenen Gewissen vollzieht. Es handelt sich um einen Schritt, der uns nicht der Gestalt, sondern dem Geheimnis Jesu näherbringt, seinem einzigartigen Bezug zum Vater, seiner Transzendenz, seiner Bedeutung für die Geschichte jedes Menschen und der ganzen Menschheit, seiner Fähigkeit, uns Gottes Antlitz zu zeigen. In diesem Moment erheben sich neue und noch bedrängendere Fragen: Weshalb erlebt dieser Mensch, der glaubt, Gott nahe zu sein und von Gott geliebt zu werden, in seinem Leben ein so grausames Schicksal? Weshalb erscheint er, menschlich gesehen, als der Besiegte? Weshalb gibt er sich schwach und schutzlos? Dieser Kampf in der Nacht, wie der Kampf Jakobs am Ufer des Jabbok, dient der Erkenntnis jenes Namens, der über alle Namen ist (vgl. Philipper 2,9). Ein solcher Kampf zeichnet sich in der Frage ab, die Jakob der geheimnisvollen Person stellt: Nenne mir doch deinen Namen" (Genesis 32,30). Es ist dieselbe Frage, die wir auch im Matthäusevangelium zu hören bekommen (vgl. 16,13-14). Sie ist auch im Horchen gegenwärtig, als Elija vor die Höhle tritt und die Worte vernimmt: Was willst du hier, Elija?" (1 Könige 19,9). Es gibt also eine letzte Stufe der Erkenntnis Jesu, für die die Kenntnis des Namens Jesu allein nicht reicht; dies ist die Zeit der Glaubenserkenntnis, auch sie eine Zeit der Fragen, der Suche, des Versuchs, die menschliche Niederlage dieses Jesus von Nazaret mit seiner innersten Vertrautheit mit Gott zusammenzubringen, das Kreuz und den Tod auf der einen Seite und die Gottheit auf der anderen Seite - ein Versuch, zu dem wir immer wieder von neuem ansetzen müssen. Verständlicherweise weitet sich der Radius der Fragen auch auf die Erfahrung der Menschen mit dem Schmerz und dem Tod aus, in dem Sinne, daß es uns sinnlos vorkommt, daß Gott sich nicht in Macht und Herrlichkeit offenbart hat, sondern - wie Martin Luther es sehr präzis zum Ausdruck gebracht hat - "sub contrario specie", wirklich im Gegensatz zu dem, was wir uns von Gott vorstellen konnten. Es kommt zudem noch zu einem weiteren Faktum, zu einer weiteren Überraschung: Wenn wir uns das Geheimnis des gekreuzigten Gottes und der Schwäche Gottes vergegenwärtigen, indem wir sie im gekreuzigten und auferstandenen Jesus wahrnehmen, gewinnen die Worte und Taten Jesu, die Gleichnisse, die Seligpreisungen, die Wunderheilungen, die Aufforderungen zum Verzeihen und sein Leiden eine neue Evidenz. Die Evangelien (und in Verbindung mit ihnen auch die übrigen Teile der Heiligen Schrift) offenbaren eine tiefe Folgerichtigkeit und einen neuen Reichtum an Sinnzusammenhängen. Alles verbindet sich zu einer neuen Erkenntnis Jesu: Er gehört nun zum lebendigen Erfahrungsbereich von uns vergänglichen Menschen auf der Suche nach einer Hoffnung, die uns nicht enttäuscht. Nach dem Kampf in der Nacht am Ufer des Flusses findet Jakob seine Ruhe erst, als er gesegnet wird. Erst am Eingang zur Höhle findet Elija den Mut zu neuen Wegen durch die Wüste. Alle diese Fragen und Antworten lassen die Glaubenserfahrung, die christliche Erfahrung zu einem immer tieferen Eindringen in die Gestalt Jesu werden; dabei eröffnen sich ständig neue Horizonte, eine Bewegung, die - wie für Jakob - erst am Ende der Nacht zu einem Abschluß kommt, wenn die Morgenröte der vollen Erkenntnis anbricht. Es handelt sich um ein immer wieder überraschendes Abenteuer, um eine Erfahrung, die einen nicht in Ruhe läßt, um eine Reise, deren nur geahntes Ziel sowohl Freude als auch Angst bereitet, Freude, weil wir es bereits erahnen, Angst, weil es noch so weit entfernt liegt. Doch von diesem geheimnisvollen Menschen, mit dem wir in der Nacht kämpfen, können wir bereits jetzt erkennen, daß seine Umarmung uns hält, daß der Kampf uns zwar anstrengt, aber auch auf den Beinen hält, daß dieser Kampf es nicht zuläßt, daß wir zu Fall kommen, uns dem Frust und der Einsamkeit überlassen. Genau in einem solchen Kampf, auf einer solchen Reise, in Etappen, die immer auch Fragen umfassen, werden wir Männer und Frauen zu authentischen Menschen, nach dem Abbild jener Gestalt eines authentischen Menschen, der uns an sich zieht, nach dem Abbild von Jesus Christus. Diese geheimnisvolle und faszinierende Reise wünsche ich jedem Mann und jeder Frau auf der Erde. |
| #48 rrrrrrrrHomepage26.05.2005 - 20:38 |
| http://al-quds.blogspot.com/ |
| #47 ddddddddd26.05.2005 - 18:19 |
| Cardinal Martini, Archbishop of Milan, retires: Bible work a central issue in his life MILAN, Italy Recently the retirement was announced of the Archbishop of Milan, Cardinal Carlo Maria Martini. The United Bible Societies (UBS) sent him a letter expressing profound gratitude for all the work he had done in the UBS context, Dr Jan de Waard writes. In 1964 Cardinal Martini, at that time Professor of New Testament Textual Studies at the Pontifical Biblical Institute in Rome, became a member of the editorial committee for the UBS Greek New Testament. Even when he was in charge of the archdiocese of Milan, reputedly the largest in the world, he found the time to attend the long session of the committee in August 1981 in Freudenstadt, southwest Germany, at which the final form of the fourth revised edition of the Greek New Testament was established. Bible work has long been a central issue in the life of Dr Martini. It was at his initiative that, in November 1980, the so-called School of the Word was founded with the aim of making the message of the Bible more accessible to the people of God. It has proved a successful model, not only in Italy but elsewhere. In an interconfessional context, the cardinals advice has been very valuable with regard to the selection of competent Roman Catholic candidates as UBS translation consultants. In 1973, while rector of the Pontifical Biblical Institute in Rome, he wrote an important introduction to the thesis La Parola Tradotta, presented by one of the first Roman Catholic UBS translation consultants, Dr Carlo Buzzetti. In his letter of thanks to UBS, Cardinal Martini stressed his two major occupations for the coming time: biblical studies and intercessory prayer for the many needs of the Church and the world. May we continue to experience rich fruits from his words and work. Dr Jan de Waard is UBS Interregional Coordinator of Work on Ancient Languages and Texts. (328 words - ITALY.12.12.02) |
| #46 vvvvvvvv26.05.2005 - 17:50 |
| Mr. President, dear colleagues, I was born in 1927 in Marktl, in Upper Bavaria. I did my philosophical and theological studies immediately after the war, from 1946 to 1951. In this period, theological formation in the faculty of Munich was essentially determined by the biblical, liturgical and ecumenical movement of the time between the two World Wars. Biblical study was very fundamental and essential in our formation, and the historical-critical method has always even if I am not a specialist like Cardinal Martini been very important for my own formation and subsequent theological work. Generally, our formation was historically oriented, and so, although my area of speciality was systematic theology, my doctoral dissertation and my postdoctoral work presented historical arguments. My doctoral dissertation was about the notion of the people of God in Saint Augustine; in this study, I was able to see how Augustine was in dialogue with different forms of Platonism, the Platonism of Plotinus on the one hand and of Porphyry on the other. The philosophy of Porphyry was a re-foundation of Politeism and a philosophical foundation of the ideas of classical Greek religion, combined with elements of oriental religions. At the same time, Augustine was in dialogue with Roman ideology, especially after the occupation of Rome by the Goths in 410, and so it was very fascinating for me to see how in these different dialogues and cultures he defines the essence of the Christian religion. He saw Christian faith, not in continuity with earlier religions, but rather in continuity with philosophy as a victory of reason over superstition. So, to understand the original idea of Augustine and many other Fathers about the position of Christianity in this period of the history of the world was very interesting and, if God gives me time, I hope to develop this idea further. My postdoctoral work was about St. Bonaventure, a Franciscan theologian of the thirteenth century. I discovered an aspect of Bonaventures theology not found in the previous literature, namely, his relation with the new idea of history conceived by Joachim of Fiore in the twelfth century. Joachim saw history as progression from the period of the Father (a difficult time for human beings under the law), to a second period of history, that of the Son (with more freedom, more openness, more brotherhood), to a third period of history, the definitive period of history, the time of the Holy of Spirit. According to Joachim, this was to be a time of universal reconciliation, reconciliation between east and west, between Christians and Jews, a time without the law (in the Pauline sense), a time of real brotherhood in the world. The interesting idea which I discovered was that a significant current among the Franciscans was convinced that Saint Francis of Assisi and the Franciscan Order marked the beginning of this third period of history, and it was their ambition to actualise it; Bonaventure was in critical dialogue with this current. After finishing my postdoctoral work I was offered a position at the University of Bonn to teach fundamental theology, and in this period ecclesiology, history and the philosophy of religion were my main areas of work. From 1962 to 1965 I had the wonderful opportunity to be present at the Second Vatican Council as an expert; this was a very great time of my life, in which I was able to be part of this meeting, not only between bishops and theologians, but also between continents, different cultures, and different schools of thinking and spirituality in the Church. After this I accepted a position at the University of Tübingen, with the idea of being closer to the school of Tübingen, which did theology in a historical and ecumenical way. In 1968 there was a very violent explosion of Marxist theology, and so when I was offered a position at the new University of Regensburg, I accepted not only because I thought it would be interesting to help develop a new university, but also because my brother was the choirmaster of the Chapel of the Cathedral. I hoped, too, that it would be a peaceful time to develop my theological work. During my time there I wrote a book about eschatology and a book about the principles of theology, such as the problem of theological method, the problem of the relationship between reason and revelation, and between tradition and revelation. The Bible was also always the main point of interest for me. While I was beginning to develop my own theological vision, in 1977 Pope Paul VI named me Archbishop of Munich, and so, like Cardinal Martini, I had to stop my theological work. In November of 1981, the Holy Father, Pope John Paul II, asked me to become the Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. The Prefect of the Congregation is also President of two important Commissions, the International Theological Commission and the Pontifical Biblical Commission. The work of these two bodies, each composed of twenty or thirty professors proposed by the Bishops of the world, is carried out in complete freedom and acts as a link between the Holy See and the offices of the Roman Curia on the one hand, and the theological world on the other. It has been very helpful to me to serve as the President of these two Commissions, because it has permitted me to continue somewhat my contact with theologians and with theology. In these years, the two Commissions have published a good number of very important documents. In the Biblical Commission two documents in particular were very well received in ecumenical circles and in the theological world in general. The first was a document about the methods of exegesis. In the fifty years since the Second World War we have seen interesting developments in methodology, not only the classic historical-critical method, but also new methods that take into account the unity of the Bible in the diverse developments in this literature, and also new methods. I think this document was really a milestone; it was very well accepted, as I said, by the scholarly community. The second document was published last year and concerns the relationship between the Holy Bible of the Jewish people, the Old Testament, and the New Testament. It treats the question of the sense in which the two parts of the Bible, each with very different histories, can be considered one Bible, and in what sense a Christological interpretation of the Old Testament not so evident in the text as such can be justified, as well as our relationship to the Jewish interpretation of the Old Testament. In this sense, the meeting of two books is also the meeting of two histories through their cultures and religious realisations. We hope that this document will also be very helpful in the dialogue between Christians and Jews. The Theological Commission published documents on the interpretation of dogma, on the past faults of the Church very important after the confessions made repeatedly by the Holy Father and other documents. At the moment we are publishing a document on the Diaconate and another on revelation and inculturation. This last argument, the encounter between different cultures, that is, intercultural and interreligious dialogue, is at the moment the main topic for us in our Congregation. After the disappearance of liberation theology in the years following 1989, there developed new currents in theology; for example, in Latin America there is an indigenous theology. This idea is to re-do theology in the light of the pre-Columbian cultures. We also are dealing with the problem of how Christian faith can be present in the great Indian culture with its rich religious and philosophical traditions. The meetings of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith with Bishops and with theologians, aimed at finding how an intercultural synthesis in the present moment is possible without losing the identity of our faith is exciting for us, and I think it is an important topic even for non- Christians or non-Catholics. Thank you for the honour of being present with you. |
| #45 rrrrrr26.05.2005 - 17:48 |
| Il relativismo del Cardinal Martini (ilfoglio) Mandato da Rassegna Stampa LS Mercoledì, 11 May 2005, 09:48. Al Direttore, vorrei difendere il cardinal Martini dal sospetto di relativismo ingiustamente insinuato ieri dal Corriere della sera per contrapporlo a papa Ratzinger. Può essere vero che Martini non simpegnerebbe in difesa dei tanti cristiani perseguitati (in attesa che si sappia, alla fine della storia, se i persecutori erano veramente da combattere e le vittime da difendere). Può essere vero che, volendo vivere in serena convivenza con tutti, Martini non si sarebbe impegnato in difesa di grandi verità morali (per esempio il diritto alla vita dei più indifesi come le creature appena concepite). Può essere vero (ma non so dirlo con certezza) che, in nome del dialogo, non ripeterebbe con la Dominus Jesus che Gesù Cristo è lunico e universale Salvatore (dovendo saper vivere nella diversità bisogna rinunciare alla Verità). Può anche essere vero (ma non ne sono sicuro) che qualora fosse stato a capo dellex S. Uffizio Martini non avrebbe avuto da ridire sugli ecclesiastici o i teologi che mettono in discussione, in giornali cattolici e università cattoliche, lessenza dogmatica della fede cattolica (lunicità del Salvatore, la resurrezione nella carne di Gesù, la storicità dei Vangeli, il primato di Pietro, la verginità di Maria). Ma su quello che è opinabile, su quello su cui la Chiesa riconosce piena libertà, il cardinal Martini avrebbe saputo essere inflessibile. Io posso dirlo per conoscenza personale. Infatti pur essendo un giornalista laico, cioè un non ecclesiastico, sono stato sottoposto, nel 1987, a un procedimento del tribunale dellinquisizione della Curia di Milano (arcivescovo Martini) per aver osato, in alcuni articoli, rivedere criticamente il ruolo degli intellettuali cattolici italiani, come Giuseppe Lazzati (credo sia un caso unico). Al mio giornale del tempo, Il Sabato, fu fatta fare una sorta di abiura galileiana. Ne ricavai limpressione che nella chiesa progressista si possono tranquillamente mettere in discussione le verità dogmatiche (dalla resurrezione di Cristo al primato di Pietro: tutte verità che noi difendevamo strenuamente), ma non si può discutere su Lazzati e compagni se non si vuole rischiare la scomunica. Il magistero parallelo, quello degli intellettuali, è infallibile. Come quello degli esegeti (a questa categoria appartiene Martini). Per i moderni esegeti non è affatto vero che nei Vangeli tutto è discutibile: le loro note e i loro commenti sono assolutamente veri, infallibili e indiscutibili. Ne sono certi. Dunque come possono essere definiti relativisti? Antonio Socci P.S. Devo fare anchio una piccola autocritica: noi a quel tempo considerammo la cultura cattolica italiana parlando di un rischio di deriva neoprotestante. Ritengo che ci sbagliammo: il protestantesimo (penso a Niebuhr, a Kierkegaard o a Barth) è una cosa seria Fonte: © il Foglio - 10 maggio 2005 |
| #44 martini26.05.2005 - 17:11 |
| ROMA On the morning of Monday, January 10, 2005, a few hours after the election of Abu Mazen as president of the Palestinian Authority, John Paul II delivered the traditional new year\s speech to the diplomatic corps accredited to the Holy See. The pope dedicated words bursting with hope to the Middle East, "the land so dear and sacred to believers in the God of Abraham." He said that "armed confrontation appears to be decreasing, with the hope of a political breakthrough in the direction of dialogue and negotiation." But he added that "an authentic and lasting peace [...] is a power that human beings on their own cannot obtain or preserve: it is a gift from God. Christ came to bring this gift to mankind, as the angels sang above the manger in Bethlehem: \peace among men with whom he is pleased\." Peace as the work of man and as a gift from God. Peace as the fruit of the political arts and as the result of prayer. In Jerusalem, there is an eminent churchman who works and prays precisely on behalf of peace as invoked by the pope. He is Cardinal Carlo Maria Martini, 78, a Jesuit, who was for years a professor of Sacred Scripture at the Pontifical Biblical Institute in Rome, then archbishop of Milan from 1980 to 2002. He has now returned to his beloved biblical studies, in Jerusalem. But that\s not all. Cardinal Martini was for a long time also the progressivists\ number one candidate to succeed John Paul II. He still is, but now more symbolically than in fact. It is in him and in his famous "dream," which he revealed at the 1999 synod of bishops, that the supporters of a Vatican Council III and a synodal reform of Church governance find their inspiration. How much of myth, and how much of reality, is there in this image of Cardinal Martini? Those who hoped (or feared) that he, freed from the weight of the archdiocese of Milan, would intensify rather than diminish his proposals for reform, were contradicted by the facts. Martini has severely curtailed his public appearances. He preaches a great deal, but mostly at retreats (in November 2004, for example, to the priests of the diocese of Rome, at the invitation of Cardinal Camillo Ruini). His books continue to be published, but more because of others\ initiative than because of his own. "Many books bear my name, but I have neither written them nor read them. These are things I have said on some occasion, which others have transcribed. If a publisher wants to run the risk of publishing them, I won\t say no, as long as he states that the test has not been reviewed by its author. If these books achieve something good, I am happy, because the reader is listening to God\s word, not mine." Cardinal Martini confided this during a conversation last October 10 with a delegation from the Paul VI Institute of Brescia, which was visiting Jerusalem to commemorate the fortieth anniversary of Paul VI\s voyage to the Holy Land on January 4-6, 1964. The transcript of the entire conversation appeared in the newsletter of the Paul VI Institute, no. 48, November 2004, pages 91-100. The most revealing part of this transcript is reproduced below. In it, Cardinal Martini speaks of himself, his return to Jerusalem, his studies, his prayer, his preaching, and his impartial "intercession" for a difficult, but not impossible, peace in the land of Jesus. It is the faithful self-portrait of a great churchman, in a new season of his life. "I am going to Jerusalem, bound in the Spirit, not knowing what shall befall me there" by Carlo Maria Martini Once, during a private audience, Paul VI said to me from his prepared text: I would like every Christian to go at least once to Jerusalem. [...] I have been living in Jerusalem for two years now. I handed over my flock to my successor [in Milan] on September 28, 2002, and I arrived here on October 1. I still have duties in Rome as a cardinal: practically speaking, I live here eight months out of the year and spend the other four in Rome, where I live near the Sanctuary of Belloro, in a house of retreat and spiritual exercises for the Jesuit fathers. Here [in Jerusalem] I live at the Pontifical Biblical Institute, founded at the end of the 1920\s as an extension of the Pontifical Biblical Institute in Rome. [...] At the moment, we are hosting students who are taking a semester at Hebrew University. I was the one who initiated, thirty years ago, this organic link with that university, which provides courses that we accredit just like our own courses at the Institute. We therefore invite all our students to attend a semester of studies at Hebrew University, which offers courses in language, archeology, history, exegesis, etc. Unfortunately, only fifteen or twenty out of a hundred accept, for reasons which I believe can be traced back to fear [...]. What brought me to Jerusalem? When people ask me why I chose to live in Jerusalem, I answer that I don\t know. It was the Holy Spirit. There are inspirations for which one cannot give logical reasons. I always recollect that passage from the Acts of the Apostles in chapter 20, in which Paul tells the elders of Ephesus and Miletus: "I am going to Jerusalem, bound in the Spirit, not knowing what shall befall me there." I have let myself be drawn in by these words and by this power of the Spirit. My life here is very good, and I am very happy to be here, because Jerusalem is truly a place of extraordinary symbolism, it is a place in which one breathes biblical history, from the patriarchs to the prophets to Jesus and His passion, death, and resurrection. It is a place full of fascination for the Christian, for the believer, because Jesus was here, this is the land He saw, the sky He contemplated, the stones He tread upon, the places where He spilled His blood, the places in which the word was spread: "He is risen." I find continual inspiration here for my prayer and meditation. I live, moreover, that prayer defined as intercession, in the etymological sense of the word. I "walk among" different contenders without wanting to agree or disagree with any of them, but praying equally for all. The political situation today is so intricate and entangled that even a competent person would find it difficult to explain objectively what has happened, why, and how. I don\t know Arabic; I understand biblical Hebrew, but not the modern kind. I don\t have the credentials to judge. I prefer [...] to put into practice the words of Jesus: "Judge not, and you will not be judged." It is difficult to say: "That one suffers more, this one suffers more." Who will begin to list the rights and wrongs? They extend to infinity. And there is no exit without some new step. On the other hand, this is not only a place of conflict, it is above all a place of dialogue. Many basic forms of dialogue are carried out: dialogue between Jews and Christians, between Jews and Muslims, three-way dialogue among Jews, Muslims, and Christians. There are many institutions in Jerusalem that cultivate these forms of dialogue. And there are also many initiatives of welcome, forgiveness, reconciliation, help, assistance, volunteerism. That is truly extraordinary. Some time ago I met two persons who are well known in the professional life of this country, one Jewish and one Arab. Both have mourned the effects of violence on their families, and they decided to get together to understand each other\s suffering. Thus was born a group of families, each of which has a son or daughter killed by terrorism, war, etc. These families meet regularly, speaking together and promoting peace initiatives. In my view this is the way, the path of justice. Justice must be rendered to those who deserve justice, and many are crying out because they deserve justice. As John Paul II says and has often repeated, "there is no peace without justice, no justice without forgiveness." If we want only to avenge the wrongs we have received, we end up with a spiral of violence like the present one [...]. I see no political possibilities of peace except through a change of mentality. We must hope that these basic forms of dialogue will lead, little by little, to a culture which would at the outset be part of public opinion seeing that the mass media now know almost nothing about this reality of dialogue, encounter, assistance, help and tomorrow would become also a political reality. There is hope, and there is continual prayer for peace. I know that my intercession and prayer are worth little, but I add them like a drop to the immense river of the Church\s prayer, which is also the prayer of Christ as intercessor, as Saint Paul says: "He always lives to make intercession for them." I have complete faith in this prayer because I know that the Lord listens to it, perhaps not answering immediately with astonishing actions, but with the peace that He sows within hearts. And there really are many gestures and initiatives of peace, as I said. My prayer, moreover, is aided by these Holy Places. I have also tried to take up my studies again: before I became archbishop of Milan, I was a professor of textual criticism at the Biblical Institute. I have begun my study from the ancient biblical manuscripts. I have already issued my first publication: the critical edition of the Bodmer VIII papyrus, a papyrus from the third century, the oldest existing version of the Letters of Peter. The pope gave a copy of this to all the cardinals on the occasion of the twenty-fifth anniversary of his pontificate. I am now preparing another work, which occupies a great deal of my attention, and this is a critical introduction to the Vatican Greek Codex 1200, which includes all of the Greek Bible, the famous Codex B. Finally, I have a third activity: the reception of pilgrims. Today it is not so simple [to come], even though I continue to say and it is true that there are no real risks for pilgrims. The mass media concentrate above all on the dramatic and sorrowful events, and thus one always needs a bit of courage to be one of those, as the psalm says, "whose hearts are set on pilgrim roads." Naturally, because of time constraints, I can only receive groups connected with Milan, that is, to my former activity: I meet with parish groups, priests, laity. I have remained closely connected to my diocese: I still recite the Ambrosian breviary, follow the Ambrosian [liturgical] calendar, and am still Ambrosian according to canon law. I also preach some retreats. Last week, for example, I gave a retreat to the Carmelite sisters on the Mount of Olives, in the place called "Pater." Next week I will preach in Bethlehem to the priests of Milan whom I ordained in 1997 and who have decided to come here to be on retreat with me. I try to make myself useful, to live a somewhat active old age, in spite of the infirmities of age felt by all I am, after all, almost 78. In Milan I did not notice any sense of fatigue, but I was aware that it was right to leave after reaching 75. I am happy with this choice, because I could not have continued to keep my former pace. Here, instead, I can pray, remember all the people I\ve met, and intercede for all. |
| #43 fffffHomepage26.05.2005 - 16:34 |
| Le sorprese di un Papa pastore e pescatore FORSE non ci sarà bisogno di attendere i fatidici «cento giorni» per capire il corso del nuovo pontificato. Adesso la sorpresa è lui, Benedetto XVI, ma credo si debba essere cauti nel valutare i primi passi di un cammino che egli stesso ha definito fra i più faticosi che si possano immaginare, tanto da chiedere insistentemente di non essere lasciato solo, di non fargli mai mancare il sostegno della comunione fraterna da parte dei cardinali e dei vescovi, e il conforto della preghiera di tutti i fedeli. È una lettura di quella «collegialità» esaltata dal Concilio Vaticano II e che sembrava essere stata in qualche misura ridimensionata dal Ratzinger teologo e «guardiano della fede». Il proposito di farsi padre e pastore di tutti, con evangelica disposizione al servizio piuttosto che al comando, unita allaffabilità, ha stupito non pochi. Domenica scorsa si è notata la sobrietà dei gesti e delle parole. Papa Ratzinger non ha fatto, come molti si attendevano, il «discorso della corona»; ha piuttosto disegnato il quadro di riferimento del suo servizio pastorale, commentando da par suo le letture della messa e indugiando non poco sul significato del Pallio, quella striscia di pura lana dagnello postagli sulle spalle, simbolo del «giogo soave» che Cristo gli ha riservato scegliendolo come suo Vicario; e dellAnello del pescatore, sigillo dellunione indissolubile che lega il Papa alla Chiesa, sposa di Cristo. Da questi segni Benedetto XVI ha tratto lo spunto per indicare due priorità del suo magistero, spiazzando chi si attendeva la grinta del restauratore o il rigore intellettuale dellapologeta, e si è trovato di fronte alla «santa inquietudine» del pastore. Val la pena citare testualmente un passaggio dellomelia, riferito al Pallio: «Lumanità - noi tutti - è la pecora smarrita che, nel deserto, non trova più la sua strada. Il figlio di Dio non tollera questo; egli non può abbandonare lumanità in una simile miserevole condizione. Balza in piedi, abbandona la gloria del cielo, per ritrovare la pecorella e inseguirla, fin sulla croce. La carica sulle sue spalle, porta la nostra umanità, porta noi stessi. Egli è il buon pastore che offre la sua vita per le pecore. Il Pallio dice innanzitutto che tutti noi siamo portati da Cristo. Ma allo stesso tempo ci invita a portarci lun laltro. Così il Pallio diventa il simbolo della missione del Pastore. La santa inquietudine di Cristo deve animare anche il Pastore». Il richiamo allunità viene formulato da Papa Benedetto proprio in rapporto a questi due segni. «Nellimmagine del pastore e in quella del pescatore emerge in modo esplicito la chiamata allunità», intesa non tanto come il «ritorno» forzato delle pecore ribelli allunico ovile, ma come la realizzazione della volontà di Cristo, di cui tutti i suoi discepoli devono farsi carico, e massimamente, il suo rappresentante sulla terra, il Papa di Roma. Perciò, conclude il Papa, rivolgendosi direttamente al Signore, «rallegriamoci per la tua promessa, che non delude e facciamo tutto il possibile per percorrere la via verso l\unità, che tu hai promesso Aiutaci ad essere servitori dell\unità!». Chi si augurava o si aspettava il «crociato» che, lancia in resta, parte alla difesa dell\identità cattolica europea, minacciata da nuovi «barbari», e ha letto in questa chiave persino la scelta del nome, che rinvia a San Benedetto da Norcia, baluardo della civiltà e della cultura cristiana in tempi travagliatissimi per la Chiesa e la società, si è trovato di fronte «l\umile lavoratore nella vigna del Signore», impegnato in prima linea per l\unità dei cristiani, la pace e la riconciliazione fra gli uomini. Benedetto XVI ha ribadito questi concetti anche nella prima udienza generale del mercoledì, annunciando che dalla prossima settimana si tornerà alla normalità, sulla scia dei suoi immediati predecessori. Le lezioni di catechismo saranno perciò riprese al punto in cui la morte di Giovanni Paolo II le ha interrotte. Non ipotechiamo il futuro, ma un segnale inequivocabile l\abbiamo avuto: la continuità con Papa Wojtyla non impedirà a Papa Ratzinger di essere lucidamente e serenamente se stesso. |
| #42 http://www.jknirp.com/martibio.htm26.05.2005 - 16:23 |
| http://www.jknirp.com/martibio.htm |
| #41 fffffffffff26.05.2005 - 16:21 |
| Cardinal Carlo Maria Martini\s address to the 43rd Plenary Assembly of the Italian Bishops\ Conference in May 1997 \He Explained the Scripture to Us\ (Luke 24:32) Preface As the starting point of my reflections I should like to take an image: Jesus explaining the Scripture to the disciples on the Road to Emmaus. I should like to interpret the passage from the viewpoint of the listeners, sad...as if blind, so that they did not recognise him. It is the position of someone who hears the exegesis of Scripture with a burning heart (though without immediately realising it) but nevertheless finds it hard to believe. It cannot have been easy for Jesus to convince his two companions, if the whole long journey, the shared evening meal and the breaking of bread were needed before their eyes were opened. The unfolding of the meaning of Scripture requires a slow, continuous process which lasts as long as a walk from afternoon to evening, an image of our pilgrimage through life. It is a long road which we all follow, until the moment when our eyes are opened to the vision of the Lamb who breaks the bread at the table of the Kingdom. I. PERSONAL OBSERVATIONS The Bible, ever more beautiful, ever more difficult The more I get to know the Bible, the more beautiful it seems, but also the uglier. I apologise for using the word ugly of something where I have the role of a loving son. But even a mother can, over the years, acquire features which are less attractive, though she still earns our love. The more I perceive over the years those aspects of the Bible which bring the light of Jesus to shine in our midst, the more I am pained by the difficulty of Scripture, pages which one does not read or accept readily, and which fit badly into the image of a humble and merciful Christ. What do I actually mean by this? There are many passages in the Bible (and I penetrate deeper into them each day) which radiate great riches, where Jesus voice can be heard leading us to him. These are especially the Gospels, and particularly the Beatitudes, the whole Sermon on the Mount, the Parables, mainly those passages in which charity is central, the signs of love and forgiveness, the majestic, more than human greatness which speaks from the Passion Narrative. Moreover I remember many Pauline passages where Paul emphasises the primacy of the Gospel over the Law, a primacy of grace over sin. There are also many passages which are not only difficult to explain, but hardly possible to read, difficult to accept and to digest. These passages speak a language of force, describe massacres and murders as willed by God, and relate, unmoved, capital punishment and divine vengeance. Such passages are not confined to the Old Testament, but continue right through to the Book of Revelation. I mean the many passages (in Exodus, Numbers, Leviticus, Chronicles) which, on the whole, no longer have a place in the liturgy but are accessible to anyone who happens to open the book. If these passages already cause difficulty to me, and trigger off an instinctive resistance in me, then I ask myself how they affect someone who does not know Scripture very well, and knows nothing about hermeneutics. With quite a few readings, particularly the extended second readings on feast days, I long to look into peoples faces and to ask myself how much they will understand of those few lines which are already difficult to read in the original context. Do people really listen? How can I manage, in my all too short homily, to avoid even the worst misunderstandings? Exegesis struggled for centuries like Jacob with the angel with these texts, found answers and explanations by different methods, from the allegorical through the literary perspective to relatio continua, etc. In the first part of the document of the Pontifical Biblical Commission, The Interpretation of the Bible in the Church, the various methods and viewpoints are listed. But it cannot be denied that despite the great modernity, even postmodernity, appropriate to many symbols and themes of the Bible, numerous passages in Holy Scripture remain strange to us. Neither our mentality, culture nor language can come to terms with many aspects of our religious sensibility. But disregard of these difficulties or neglect of them as banal does not contribute to treating the Bible in such a way that it becomes the place of a blessed encounter with Christ. Several Roads to Emmaus My second personal observation is that growing familiarity with Holy Scripture occasions the need to distinguish the different levels of the biblical text. In the approach to the sacred text, and with it to Our Lord Jesus Christ, we inevitably take different routes at different levels, without the later ones ever replacing the earlier ones. It is as if there were not one road to Emmaus but a whole network of roads. I should like to distinguish schematically three phases or moments of approach to the Bible: Firstly the philological-exegetical way which is today easily accessible to all, thanks to multiple aids (commentaries, introductions, dictionaries, atlases, encyclopaedias, CDs, etc). At this stage one becomes aware of the enormous riches contained in the texts, the vigour, even human and literary, which will never be researched in its entirety. Parallel to growing familiarity with the linguistic-literary aspect of the Bible arises the need ever more forcefully to comprehend the meaning of the message and to compare it to ones own frame of reference. The text remains a necessary point of departure and reference, but from it arises a whole stream of reflections, questions, analyses, replies which nourish the mind and warm the heart. This is the moment when Jesus, on the road to Emmaus, not only quotes passages from Scripture but reveals to the disciples the connections and direction of its all-embracing meaning. Eventually comes the moment when the text in its precisely and objectively drawn contours tends to become blurred, when it abandons, as it were, its mat-erial consistency. It is then that the person of the Lord, the mystery of the Kingdom, shines through ever more clearly in anticipation of the heavenly vision and as a stimulus to prayer and contemplation. I have here described the three classic steps of lectio divina, that is, lectio, meditatio, contemplatio. I do not want to say that there are no other methods of lectio divina. For this a comprehensive literature exists. I only wanted to establish that the different steps of lectio, however they are named, gradually alter their significance, their importance on the spiritual road, until they make possible an encounter with Jesus. Then the text somewhat pales before the spiritual presence. Every pastoral approach to Scripture must keep this way in mind and encourage it, without insisting too much on a definite scheme. We must allow for the dynamic of prayer which arises from the Bible, including all its detours and setbacks. Therefore the encounter with Jesus through the Bible is, in the end, always a very personal adventure, a lonely struggle with an angel, a journey with the Holy Spirit, where pastoral guidance could only indicate the general direction, disposition and model. This is what happens in a School of the Word. The Book and the Chalice A third observation: with the growing familiarity with Holy Scripture comes the consciousness of how much the Bible is interwoven with the whole action of the Church, always present, beyond all differences and oppositions (Scripture, tradition, writing, sacraments), behind all fear of fundamentalism and extreme movements (biblicism, gnosticism, etc.). Perhaps it can be represented by an image used by a former Patriach of Venice, Cardinal Roncalli. It is the image of Alpha and Omega, or of Book and Chalice. In the work of a bishop and his priests the Holy Book, is like the Alpha. The Omega, on the other hand, if I may employ this apocalyptic expression, is the consecrated chalice on our daily altar. In the book the voice of Jesus is heard in our hearts, in the chalice Christs blood, always a source of grace, reconciliation, salvation of the Church and of the whole world. Between these two poles all other letters of the alphabet can be found. But these are nothing unless they are supported and upheld by both extremes the word of Jesus, which comes from Holy Scripture and re-echoes in all statements of holy Church, and the blood of Christ in the final sacrifice, as eternal source of grace and blessing (Angelo Roncalli, La Sacra Scrittura e S.Lorenzo Guitiniani, Pastoral Letter, 1956). Taking up this image proposed by the late Pope, I should like to say that the connection Bible-Tradition and Bible-Sacraments, and most of all Bible-Liturgy, is more than a merely theological position. It is more a practical knowledge which grows with time and experience and the grace of the Holy Spirit. But it does not grow merely by controversy, nor by warnings of very real dangers such as biblicism, a certain intellectualism, or even gnosticism, for these cannot be overcome merely by a hostile presentation. I refer particularly to a danger which was rightly pointed out by one of the Regional Conferences, namely that the Bible, especially in some groups, is considered more as an edifying exercise than an authentic search for an opening onto the person of Jesus Christ. Such snares exist. They are best overcome by a constant pastoral approach to the Bible, together with the local and universal Church, with the help of the Bible Pastoral Letter. Not less Holy Scripture, but more and better such an approach to the Bible will save us from deviations which occasionally are to be feared and deplored. II. SOME CONSEQUENCES FOR PASTORAL PRACTICE From the foregoing personal observations which I have presented in schematic and allusive form, so as to invite my listeners to find some echo in their own experience and memory, I should like to deduce some pastoral consequences about the way in which the Bible can lead to a personal encounter with Jesus. In so doing I shall refer to the three personal observations I have just formulated, 1. The Bible constantly becomes more beautiful and more difficult. 2. There are several road to Emmaus, or many varied attitudes to the text. 3. The Book and the Chalice, or the natural place of the Bible as a means to salvation. 1. Three practical consequences of the first observation. Unity and awareness of limitation We must not deny the fact that the approach to the Bible as a whole is difficult and in some ways must always be attempted anew, as much for new generations as in the course of our own life. Difficulties, resistance and rejection must be taken into account, but should not surprise us too much. To overcome these requires from every new generation a renewal of patience and love. In particular it seems that today we do not dispose of a rigorous theory of inspiration which could answer exhaustively all questions asked by modern people with regard to Holy Scripture. The theories established by the so-called biblical question (see Providentissimus Deus, 1893) remain on the whole valid. On the other hand, new attempts are welcome to find a modern, or rather a postmodern, language for the complex notion of a divinely inspired text, a text we call the Word of God. This text must be accepted as the Bible presents it, not a something abstract. It must be accepted with all its passages, the easy and the difficult ones, with the pages where God appears as speaker and those where human beings speak to God, answer him or simply talk to him, desperate or angry, just as anyone talks to other members of the family, recounts sayings through which basic understanding becomes clear, or everyday observations of the most varied kinds. Exegesis over the last 50 years has made great strides, but much remains to be done concerning literary theories and theological perspectives before we get to the root of subjects like oral tradition, significance of writing, various forms and aspects of communication, narrative perception, etc. It follows that we must be patient and accept that not every question has a satisfactory answer. We must also help all seekers to distinguish what is clear from what is not, in humility and awareness of our own limitations. Clarity first In pastoral practice we must do as Jesus must certainly have done at Emmaus: he helped the disciples first of all to see clarity and light, before drawing attention to darkness and shadows. The Church has always preferred certain passages or books in the Bible from which light was gathered to others. Although I am much in favour of a lectio continua of the Bible as it occurs in the liturgy (and as it was defended by that great lover of Scripture, Giuseppe Dossetti), I should like to say that getting to know the Bible is most of all getting to know the Gospels and Acts, familiarity with many Psalms, and with selected passages from the Pauline Epistles, from Exodus, Isaiah and Genesis, always viewed against the background of the death and resurrection of Jesus. Any systematic guidance to Bible reading must consider these main points and this Christological key to understanding which make it possible to bring together this rich and manifold world. On the other hand, we must accept that we come near to Christ through different historical and existential approaches in which the Bible is so rich. These must not be arbitrarily skipped. It is as if the unique word that God has spoken in history, in a thousand different places and contexts, in a thousand different tone-colours, must be grasped in the individual tones and their precise significance. Otherwise the harmony which repeats the basic theme in an overwhelming modal multiplicity cannot be achieved. The School of the Word The particular effectiveness of a School of the Word must be noted. A few central passages are chosen and set into a wider context, as an initiation and stimulus for a direct, personal contact with the biblical text. The School of the Word which already exists in many dioceses often as a bishops direct initiative to youth must not be confused with exegetical reading, sermon or catechesis. All these forms retain their full validity and significance. It should rather be an incentive for those concerned. How do I find a text which speaks to me personally, by which I reach an encounter with the Lord who speaks to me in and through the text? So it becomes obvious how important it is to show our faithful, with the help of Bible Weeks and Bible Courses, that the Bible is a structured reality, at different levels. It requires a well-considered organic approach, rather than something uniform and monolithic, as certain charismatic groups sometimes suppose. 2. Three consequences of the second observation about the changing relation to the text. Avoid schematic repetitions In all activities of the biblical apostolate we must above all avoid getting stuck in a certain pattern. Changing moods, different levels of understanding and capacity to assimilate must determine the approach. A successful initiative (e.g. a School of the Word) is not valid always and everywhere, so that it can be adopted in every situation. I have considerable hesitations about supposed recipes for success. We must pay great attention to the constant changes in our target-group, be it negatively (habit or surfeit) or positively (the emergence of new existential questions). We must rethink our formulae and activities regularly and question them again and again. This applies also to the liturgy of the Word outside the Eucharist. At the moment these seem to me too stereotyped. They have lost the capacity to lead people really to the text, as was the case when they were introduced at the time of the Second Vatican Council. At services of the Word I often have the impression that texts have been chosen hastily from a superficial preference. They are often too long or too dense, and they are normally for some reason hastily read out only once, without regard for the needs or the explicit or unspoken questions of the faithful. The choice of texts for the liturgy of the Word is a delicate decision and cannot be left to chance. The basis for this choice, as for the manner of presentation and explanation, must be geared to the situation of the listeners. Their understanding of the Scriptures and their most urgent problems in life must be taken into account. Promote an encounter with the Lord We must make the biblical text a companion for people in a truly spiritual way, a way which most of all promotes the knowledge of the Lord, rather than simply knowledge of the Bible. The purpose of the biblical apostolate in all its forms is not to create biblical experts, but men and women of prayer who let the Bible lead them to knowledge of the Lord who calls them in the real situation of their lives, here and now. Naturally we must avoid shortcuts and must not give in to the illusion that from every page of the Bible some spiritual fruit will grow. We must bravely walk through the labyrinth of history and biblical language, keeping the aim always before our eyes and trusting the power of that Spirit through which Scripture needs to be read and understood. The old wisdom of the Imitation of Christ remains still today the golden rule for every approach to the Word of God, All holy books are to be read in the Spirit in which they were written. Formation of leaders A third consequence concerns the formation of animators. Here too it is chiefly a question of the spirituality of these people in whom the wish to study the Bible, the desire to share their knowledge with others, arises from their longing for an intimate knowledge of Jesus Christ. Future leaders should acquire all re-quisite specialist knowledge, including the study of biblical languages, even Hebrew, a tendency I observe more and more among the laity. With such a formation they are sure not to pick up incoherent, confusing elements, but acquire an authentic motivation, so as to get to know Jesus in Holy Scripture and to bring him to others. Places of training for leaders do not therefore have the task of forming biblical scholars. We do need experts, but special institutions are available for them, and catechetical schools can make their own valuable contribution. I am rather thinking of simple lay functions: leaders of Bible groups, those responsible for the neighbourhood apostolate, or visiting helpers in the forefront of the popular mission. In the last few years I have had the chance to get to know many of these, and they are all people hungry and thirsty for Scripture. It is now for us, by prayer and a lived spirituality, to make this goodwill blossom. 3. Notes on the third observation, Book and Chalice. For an integrated way The different methods of using the Bible in pastoral care should complement each other so as to create a common way which alone leads to a full familiarity with the holy book of the Church. The pastoral writings of the Italian Episcopal Conference mention four forms of encounter with the Bible in the pastoral work of the Church: liturgical celebration, with a special emphasis on the homily, the way of introducing catechesis, and generally the service of the Word, religious teaching in schools. To these I should like to add lectio divina in common. For these and similar forms is relevant: Every one of these ways makes its own demands, but requires also close connection with other forms of expressing the faith with which the Church accompanies an encounter with the Bible. A further contribution from the bishops fits in here: in the biblical apostolate the starting-point must be already existing and uncontested premises, that is, premises which have their roots in Dei Verbum iste, n. 1, and which are there set out in more detail. It is a matter of achieving a revaluation of the Bible in two forms: in one, in the different moments of the Churchs life (liturgy, catechesis), in the other, in a direct approach to the biblical text. I should like to take up point 22 which neatly summarises what I have tried to say, the approach to the Bible in faith is itself precious, even if it is not closed in itself. It must remain independent in its methods, but also closely related to other forms of mediating the faith which are part of the Churchs tradition (liturgy, catechesis). Two different complementary ways to the reappraisal of the Bible are relevant: the direct approach to the text and the promotion of biblical components in other channels mediating the faith, such as catechesis and celebration. Then comes the problem of a practical balance between these two ways. Is it better to bring the so-called estranged immediately into contact with the basic kerygmatic Bible texts or to lead them along the systematic way of catechesis? It seems to me that the different solutions are not opposed but complementary, and that the decision will always depend on practical considerations. In my experience with the chair for non-believers, of which I shall say more shortly, it is beneficial to harmonize both ways intelligently, with regard to the people concerned, their condition and the available time, even if the direct approach to the Bible has a strength and fascination which is perhaps absent from the slow systematic approach. Practical examples for a diversified approach To end these considerations of the synthesis of the different ways I should like to add a few practical examples of my experience of the different forms of approach. I want to sketch out five situations: Holy Scripture and the search for the meaning Holy Scripture and catechesis for adults Holy Scripture and the family Holy Scripture and the ways of vocation Holy Scripture and youth In our big cities there are today many people who are seeking. I mean mainly those who have had a Christian education, but who have then, sometimes quite early in life, turned away from the faith. The Italian Episcopal Conference has asked itself very seriously how they can help such people. I should like to put forward an initiative which I called somewhat provocatively the chair for non-believers, and where it is not primarily a matter of approach to the Bible. It starts from another point, namely from the reasons for loss of faith. People describe with great sincerity their way of life, seeking a meaning, their problems and doubts. We cannot confront these people straight-away with a page from Holy Scripture (in the sadness of the two Emmaus disciples there was little explicitly biblical) in fact this consequence will show itself relatively quickly. For even on those encounters the Bible proves itself quickly as a source for the great archetypes of humanity, with expressive symbols for all forms of human search for meaning. The starting-point will not necessarily be a passage from the Bible, as is the case with lectio divina, but rather doubts, problems and questions which very soon find their reflection in a page or an image in the Bible, and will lead some to thinking about themselves, others on the way to faith. Holy Scripture and catechesis for adults I am impressed by the practice of the so-called house Bible meetings which present a new form of adult catechesis. They arise generally from the preparation of popular missions, or as a result of them, sometimes spontaneously. In these groups, led by animators with their own formation, there is at the beginning a passage from the Bible, after which the participants can turn to structured catechesis. In this connection I was surprised by the remark of a Regional Episcopal Conference which regretted the atomisation of the biblical apostolate, mostly restricted to a few groups, which does not show the relevant continuity, and is not integrated into the religious structure of the Church. To me these house Bible groups seem a very good opportunity for our parishes as well as for the whole diocese, as an opportunity for a wider public. I have been doing this for some years in Lent through my radio catechesis which is followed by hundreds of groups in numerous parishes. This achieves a formation in faith for adults which is not elitist, offers a certain continuity, and fits into the structure of Church life. Holy Scripture and the family This is one of the most difficult areas. Some traditions I am thinking of the reading in common of the history of saints have completely disappeared, as also grace at meals. It is not easy to introduce new habits. The diocese of Brixen has committed itself most energetically, where basic aids are handed out on a large scale, to enable families to read the Sunday readings on the previous evening. We must probably consider again the practice of the rosary; this practice of family prayer is still alive in some places and could be valuable as an introduction to praying with the Bible. Holy Scripture and ways of vocation Very useful was the following attempt: a group of young people aged 17-25 (about 150-200 each year) carry on for a year a living reflection on spiritual vocation. These are young people who want to fulfil the will of God without compromise and who do not exclude any call coming from God, but who are as yet unclear about the future. They submit themselves for a year to a rule of life and prayer, and receive spiritual guidance. I try, with the help of Scripture, to bring some clarity, for example, they should reflect for a year (one Sunday afternoon each month) on the Call of the prophet Samuel and his life (1 Sm 1-15). The contact with the Bible sharpens the consciousness of the self, of ones own resistance and anxieties, and puts the question: what does God want from me, in such a way that the personal decision becomes easier. The method used is that of a long and often repeated lectio divina, practised first in common, then in form of a personal prayer and finally in small groups with exchanges. Thanks to personal accounts which I have received in all these years I have been able to follow up the spiritual way of more than a thousand young people, and reconstruct the enormous difficulties which prevent in our times clear and brave decisions of this kind. At the same time I have been able to witness changes of position in the direction of the imitation of Christ, at the beginning of which stood the encounter with the Bible. Holy Scripture and youth I have already mentioned the Schools of the Word which are held in many dioceses and often by the bishop himself. In this school are experienced the power of the biblical word and the longing of young people for authenticity and prayer. The same applies to quiet retreats with meditation on a biblical passage. It is important in all these approaches to the text that they create a climate of reflection and enable young people to let themselves be addressed personally by the word of the Bible. They discover, as I have often been told, that God really speaks about me and to me in this text. We must certainly trust again the ability of the young to develop honest interests from apparent alienation and apathy, if they have the feeling that there is a text where I can find myself, a text which carries the fascination of a story and the progress to a predestined conclusion, which requires, here and now, honest answers. III. CONCLUSIONS May I be allowed two concluding points? The first I take from a contribution to regional conferences which, I think, resumes the meaning of my talk. It is said that this gathering should emphasize that in the belief of the Church and in the reading of the Bible in the context of prayer and conversion the answer lies to the urgent needs of the new evangelisation. This is particularly relevant for the request to form a laity mature in the faith, able to translate the Bible into todays world, as well as the request, against all modern tendencies to relativistic and syncretist religiosity, to strengthen the faith in Jesus as the One Saviour of the world. The second conclusion is based on a letter which I received recently during Lent. It concerns my diocesan radio broadcasts on the Christology of Johns Gospel. The letter came from a man of 50 in a Bible group, whom I do not know personally. To the question what a shepherd of souls expects when he wants to bring the Bible to people he writes: "In these weeks of encounter, reading, listening and discussions, I have rediscovered a great truth, understood and completed with new knowledge I need Jesus. He is the way for me, truth, life, bread and light. Without him I would be lost, in him and through him my life gains infinite worth, my daily actions become jewels of mysterious eternal beauty. What is so beautiful about it is that it comes to me spontaneously from the heart, thanks to your thoughts, Eminence, as if this truth had been slumbering, only waiting to be awoken. Now I know that the truths of my religion are not speculations of my intellect, but realities which are closely linked to my heart, my human nature. Now I no longer feel alone, I know that Jesus is with me, I know that I can find in Holy Scripture, in the magisterium of the Church, answers to my deepest needs". I wish that our words and attempts towards a biblical apostolate may always find hearts so ready to receive the seeds of the Word. (Transl.: Henry Wansbrough) |
| #40 dddddd26.05.2005 - 12:09 |
| My dreams for the Church Feb 11, 2005 An interview with Cardinal Martini. The Jesuit Archbishop of Milan, expounded three dreams to the bishops gathered in Rome for the recent Synod for Europe. In an interview with the editor and the Rome correspondent of The Tablet, he developed his vision for the new evangelisation, the parish and the movements, and the college of bishops. (The Tablet, 30/10/1999) Cardinal Martini is 72, and he goes on thinking. Of all the speeches of the bishops during the second Synod for Europe which has just ended in Rome, none attracted more attention from the media than his. He began it with a tribute to the late Cardinal Hume, with whom he was close friends. Then, like Cardinal Hume in a previous synod speech, he said he had been dreaming; his dreams, like that of Cardinal Hume, concerned signposts for the future. There were three dreams, and in his Tablet interview he said more about each of them. He is fluent in English, precisely enunciated with a strong accent, but switches to Italian for greater facility when his thought is complex. In his cathedral in Milan the cardinal has been developing themes of biblical spirituality to packed congregations, often of young people. His first synod dream was about the Bible, that it should become "the book of the future for the European continent, especially for the young". "The Bible is the book from which we are born as Christians", he told us. "Its a beautiful work from a literary point of view. It appeals to the modern conscience because it speaks through stories and narratives. It therefore has all the characteristics to speak to the people of today." How does he think the Bible relates to the catechism? "Ordinarily I prefer to start from the Scriptures but I recognise that a catechism is necessary because the New Testament itself, every so often, seeks to give an organic synthesis of its message. This effort at synthesis over the centuries has little by little been condensed in the catechism. But I would not entrust myself to the formula that the catechism is the instrument for a new evangelisation. That instrument is the Bible." A biblical spirituality also enables Christians to cross ecumenical bridges. "We have found in the Bible a very broad terrain of understanding with the Churches of the Reformation", he testifies. For dialogue with the Eastern Churches, however, Cardinal Martini recommends a different approach, through the Fathers of the Church and the liturgy. "During these days in the synod, a bishop from a Greek Catholic Church in Eastern Europe said, We give you the icons and you give us the lectio divina. We can help the Eastern Churches with a spirituality that starts from a prayerful reading of the Scriptures, and they give us the icons through which to contemplate the mystery." He turns also to the Bible, he says, because he sees the situation of Christians today as reflecting that of the communities whose story is recounted in the New Testament. Practising Christians are now a minority in society, as in the early centuries. Like them, he explains, "we are faced with an indifferent and partly hostile world. This clarifies our language. We have to make our proposals clear and convincing. Every one of our interventions has to be argued. The only power we now have is that of the Holy Spirit." He stresses that "the whole process of modernity makes the adhesion to Christianity a free personal choice". How does he evaluate modern pluralistic societies, then, which are no longer founded on any sole ideological or religious story? Are they sapped by relativism, or upheld by an absolute respect for neighbour? How does Cardinal Martini judge them? He cuts in, courteously, but his words have a punch. "These societies are very ambiguous. Certainly they have many values: respect for the person, tolerance, the sense of freedom. But they have difficulty in observing fidelity, perseverance in the marriage commitment, and often they are confused about the great absolute values. So there are two sides. But it is not for me to judge society as a whole; we have to meet people face to face to find common ground on which to reflect." There is common ground with unbelievers in concern for human rights, he goes on, and in the beauty of Christian art, architecture and music, but above all in the search for meaning. "As a bishop, I organise meetings with non-believers, letting them speak about their search. People who dont attend church or have abandoned religious practice share this quest for meaning. They want to make sense of their lives and discover the foundation of the moral values in which in some way they believe. As Christians, we should meet them not in the abstract society as described by sociologists but as persons living in that society with many desires, hopes, and expectations as well as scepticism. In this sense we have to find common ground." His second synod dream was about the parish, that it should become a sign of communion and hope for the world, offering a credible alternative to a fragmented society and ethics. But for this to be achieved, he added in his synod speech, the new Catholic movements and communities had to be integrated into the mainstream of the Church. It is well known that Cardinal Martini has always had reservations about these movements, and that in his own diocese his relations with Communion and Liberation in particular, which was born in Milan, have often been strained. Does he really think that his proposal for integration is practical? The many supporters of the movements expect them to continue as independent groupings, just as the religious orders did. He explains. "Paradoxically, the movements as such are made to disappear. They have to bring the values they represent to the centre of the Church; after that their task is done to some extent. Its like the liturgical and biblical movements of 50 years ago: they are not vigorous today because the Church has absorbed their values, which have become the possession of everyone." In the movements he sees "a ferment of ideas and experiences which do not have a precise shape. At a certain point, this divides into two parts: one part is assimilated into the Church, and the other part will constitute itself as a society, as a religious order, and continue as a canonical reality in the Church which should be well defined so that there is no confusion". He compares this trajectory to that of the original Franciscan movement, "at first a great flowering of ideas on poverty and the simple life", which "became also a number of religious orders with a precise canonical form". He reflects: "We need both the one and the other. At present we are in a time of transition, so its a rather difficult moment." Yet it is precisely when movements get to work in a parish, as the cardinal is advising, that friction can be greatest. The Neo-Cat- echumenate is the only one that habitually bases itself in parishes and in England it caused such division in one diocese that the bishop concerned banned it from taking any new initiatives. The cardinal pays tribute to the Neo-Catechumenate: "I admire it very much." He describes the "way" in which it trains its adherents to walk as a "treasure", though he thinks the steps of this way are "a bit too rigorous perhaps". This training goes on for years too long, he says. "I tell the Neo-Catechumenate: you should copy the African missions, which have a catechumenate for two or three years, and then send the catechumens into the parish." The Easter vigil is a particular focus of contention, we suggest. Particularly if the parish priest is himself a member of the Neo-Catechumenate, there are regularly two Masses: one for the general body of the parishioners, and another afterwards for the Neo-Catechumenate, which continues till dawn and ends with feasting on the paschal lamb. What does he think of this double celebration? "I would be ready to accept a Neo-Catechumenate group having their own vigil for two or three years", he replies. "Then the parish can learn from them and make the vigil more vivid. But after that the Neo-Catechumenate should join the parish. What I dont accept is that they should have a special liturgy for years and years." The last of Cardinal Martinis three dreams in his synod speech was widely interpreted as a call for a new council of the Church, though he did not say so explicitly. He listed, for the bishops in the hall, a series of "knotty problems", disciplinary and doctrinal, which had developed over the 40 years since the Second Vatican Council was held: the deepening and development of the councils doctrine of the Church as communion; the lack of ordained ministers; the position of women in society and the Church; the participation of the laity in ministerial responsibilities; sexuality; marriage discipline; penitential practice; relations with the Orthodox Churches, and the need to revive ecumenical hopes; the relationship between democracy and values, and between civil law and the moral law (see The Tablet, 16 October, p. 1409). These challenges, he told the synod, could not be met "by sociological surveys, the collection of signatures, or pressure groups, and perhaps not even by a synod". He envisaged the use of "a more universal and authoritative instrument" to tackle them, "in the full exercise of episcopal collegiality". There was applause in the hall as he ended. He confirmed to us in his Tablet interview that he expected the Church in the next millennium to recover its first-century practice of holding large gatherings periodically. "These could be a council", he told us, "or they could be an enlarged synod of bishops. I am not thinking of new structures." He picked up a phrase he had used in the synod to discuss the Church today. It was "becoming ever more diverse in its languages", he had told the bishops. He now developed his thought to explain why this required meetings of the whole Church. He had just been in Taiwan, and had been struck by the different ways that people there expressed and reasoned about the faith. "Think of the Churches growing in China. They have a way of thinking which is very far from the European way, and we need to listen to them, to have occasions to mix together. "Theology started in the twelfth century as an expression of intelligent reasoning on religious experience, conditioned by an Aristotelian mentality. It is clear that this is not identical with the expression of a Chinese or Japanese or Indonesian mentality, which works with a different background. As the Pope has said many times on his journeys, we have to encourage the people of Asia and elsewhere to express their richness of religious experience in their own terms. But we have also to compare the languages, because we must reach a common understanding. Sometimes the words may be similar, sometimes different, but the most important thing is to know that we are saying the same thing, otherwise the Church will be divided." The comparison of languages is already happening in the synods, but can only be partial, he points out, because their representation is not wide enough. "Out of 260 Italian bishops, eight have attended the second European Synod. So in these gatherings only a few bishops can make this comparison. In the third millennium, therefore, we need to develop our tradition of the collegiality of all bishops. In my speech I was looking ahead, not making a request for the present moment." Which is perhaps just as well. Many people feel that the conditions for any sort of council are simply not in place at present. But Martini is a man of Christian hope, and this is the note on which he concludes, referring to the story of the disciples on the road to Emmaus which was a "biblical icon" of this synod. "Hope is a gift of the Spirit", he reflects, "which fills our hearts with the joy and optimism that come from above. The two disciples on the road to Emmaus had lost hope. They did not regain it by being told, You have to hope, but by having the Scriptures explained to them. They came to understand that there was sense in what had happened, an opening, a calling: that what they had thought was a failure was really a victory. And that\s the gift of hope: to be able to see revealed in things, the plan of God." |
| #39 http://www.ellipsis.cx/%7Eliana/phi/961fall01.pdf26.05.2005 - 10:47 |
| http://www.ellipsis.cx/%7Eliana/phi/961fall01.pdf |
| #38 fffffffffff24.05.2005 - 11:20 |
| Eremiten und Höhlen St. Ursanne, Schweiz "Wir setzten unsere Wanderung fort...Die bislang etwas wüstenartig wirkende Vegetation bestand jetzt aus locker verteilten Büschen...ich habe beispielsweise das Haus gesehen, in dem eine Königin am Vorarbend ihres Todes geschlafen hat, und eine kleine in die Felsen geschmiegte Kapelle, die Einsiedelei eines heiligen Mannes, von dem die wenigen Bewohner des Landstrichs behaupteten, er tue Wunder. "Wunder sind doch etwas sehr Wichtiges, findest du nicht?" fragte mich Petrus. (Coelho, Paulo, Auf dem Jakobsweg) Ein gutes Thema für ein künftiges HÖREPSY.... Eine Fortsetzung von "Meditation und Höhle" An vielen Orten der Erde findet man sie, die Mönchszellen in der Einsamkeit, oft nur aus einem windigen Mäuerchen bestehend, das eine winzige Felsnische nach außen hin abschließt. Gesucht wurde die Einsamkeit, das Zurückgezogensein vom Getriebe der Welt, man suchte Gott und seinen Frieden. Was man fand, war des öfteren nicht das, was man gesucht hatte. Im christlichen Raum begann das Einsiedlerwesen (éremos = Wüste, Einsamkeit) schon sehr früh und so mancher dieser uns manchmal schon sehr seltsam anmutenden Eremiten gilt heute als "Heiliger". Einsiedler war so mancher auch nicht für immer. So mancher zog sich nur für gewisse Zeit in die Einsamkeit einer Felshöhle zurück und kam dann mit neuen, oft "revolutionären" Idee daraus zurück. Ein paar Beispiele: * Antonius der Einsiedler Er stammte aus Komé in Mittelägypten. Im Alter von 20 Jahren gab er um das Jahr 270 n.Chr. sein reiches Erbe auf, verteilte die Güter unter den Armen und zog sich in die Höhlen der Thebaischen Wüste im oberen Niltal zurück. Von ihm heißt es, daß er sich "15 Jahre übte, in einem Felsspalt lebend, in Askese und Gebet. Alles schien ihm mit Leichtigkeit zu gelingen, ein Minimum an Nahrung, Kleidung und Schlaf genügten dem Eifrigen. Um sich diesen geringen Lebensunterhalt erwerben zu können, knüpfte er, wie die anderen Einsiedler, Palmblätter zu Körben und Matten. Die Vollkommenheit, die er aus ganzem Herzen erstrebte, schien nahe. Doch dann kamen Rückschläge, Versuchungen suchten ihn heim. Vorstellungen der Wollust ließen ihn nicht mehr los. Um allen Anfechtungen zu entgehen, zog sich Antonius noch tiefer in die Einsamkeit zurück..." (Das große Buch der Heiligen, S. 32) Besonders der Teufel habe es auf ihn abgesehen gehabt, aber mit all seiner Kraft habe er Gottes Widersacher besiegen wollen. Ein Ruf der Vollkommenheit wurde ihm zugeschrieben, er suchte sich eine neue Wohnstätte und fand sie am Fuß des Berges Kolzim. Dort bildete sich ein richtiges Einsiedlerzentrum um ihn herum. Im Alter von 105 Jahren sei er gestorben nach einem Leben in bester Gesundheit. Zurück ließ er nur einen alten, zerschlissenen Mantel und 2 Tuniken in Sackform. * Benedikt von Nursia Er wurde um 480 geboren und stammte aus Nursia, dem heutigen Norcia in Umbrien. Als Sohn adeliger Eltern wurde er nach Rom geschickt, um dort Rechtswissenschaften zu studieren. Das "laute Leben in der Weltstadt" sei ihm aber zuwider gewesen, so daß er sich bald in die Einsamkeit und Stille seiner Heimat wieder zurückgezogen habe. Östlich von Rom fand er bei Subiaco eine fast nicht zugängliche Höhle, wo er 3 Jahre ausgeharrt haben soll. Die völlige Abgeschiedenheit sei ihm aber nicht leicht gefallen. Um seinen brennenden Wunsch auf Kontakt mit anderen Menschen zu besiegen, habe er sich etwa einmal nackt in ein dichtes Gestrüpp von Dornen und Nesseln geworfen. Der körperliche Schmerz habe ihm dann geholfen, seine Wünsche nach menschlicher Nähe zu besiegen. Trotz seiner jungen Jahre erwarb er sich aber durch seine Exercitien in der Einsamkeit einen gewissen Ruf und als man im nahe gelegenen Kloster Vicovaro einen Nachfolger für den verstorbenen Abt suchte, wählte man ihn. Nur zögernd ließ er sich dazu bewegen, das Amt anzunehmen und aus seiner Höhle herauszukommen. Als er mit strengen Ordensregeln das Leben im Kloster reformieren wollte, da fand er nur wenig Begeisterung und enttäuscht zog er sich erst einmal wieder in seine Berghöhle zurück. Der Erfolg seines "ora et labora" war aber nicht aufzuhalten und wurde zum Leitsatz des abendländischen Mönchstums. * Rosalia * Maria Magdalena * Ignatius von Loyola * Verena * Beatus * Hieronymus ..in der Einsamkeit seiner Felsenhöhle bei Chalcis "litt er viel um Christi willen" (Legenda aurea) * Franz von Assisi * Wolfgang * Indien ist auch ein Kulturraum, wo die "Einsiedler" wichtige Rollen spielen. Helge Timmerberg berichtet z.B. von der Ersteigung eines heiligen Berges mit einer Einsiedlerhöhle: "Ein frommer Jogi zog einstmals bescheiden und einfach im Gemüt auf diesen Berg hinauf, um endlich ganz Mönch zu sein. er meditierte sieben Jahre in einer nur schwer zugänglichen Höhle. Dabei wurde er unwahrscheinlich stark, wurde Herr aller magischen Kräfte, und es gab eigentlich nichts, was er nicht tun könnte. Schweben konnte er, und alle möglichen Dinge aus dem Nichts herausmaterialisieren konnte er. Er konnte den Atem über ein halbe Stunde lang anhalten und Lichter am Himmel entfachen. Alle Wunder konnte er vollbringen, und auf dem Höhepunkt seiner tantrischen Kraft verließ er die Höhle und den Berg, und er nahm das gesamte Tal darunter in Besitz. Seine Bescheidenheit war damit dahin...." Wie die Geschichte weitergeht, das steht im Timmerbergbuch (S. 133f.) Orte, wo man noch heute "Einsiedlerhöhlen" besuchen kann: * Deutschland - Eifel (Klausenhöhle bei Kordel, Bruderhäuschen bei Kordel, Eremitenklause "Hieronymushöhle" unterhalb der Liboriuskapelle bei Echternach) - Sankt Wendelin Höhlen bei Dörzbach/Jagst * Österreich - Einsiedelei-Halbhöhlen am St.-Georg-Palfen bei Saalfelden (> Salzburger Höhlenbuch Band 2, Salzburg 1977, S. 170f.) - St.-Wolfgang-Höhle im Falkenstein am Wolfgangsee - 18 Höhlenobjekte mit dem Präfix "Einsiedler-" in Niederösterreich (> Die Höhlen Niederösterreichs, Band 4) * Frankreich - Grotte de l\Ermite bei Plambois-Vennes, Doubs - Ermitage de Saint-Antoine de Galamus, St.-Paul-de-Fenouillet, Pyrénées-Orientale - Höhlenkirche von Remonot, Doubs (in der Höhle gibt es einen Altar zum Angedenken der Einsiedler, die dort über einen Zeitraum von 1000 Jahren gelebet hätten) * Griechenland - Einsiedlerklause beim Kloster Governéto bei Chania, Kreta * Italien - "Spelunke der Valmasca" im oberen Roia-Tal, Ligurien - Höhle auf der Insel Gallinara, vermutete Heimstatt des Hl. Martin - Grotta dell\ Eremita im Bormidatal, Ligurien - Tana di S. Giorgio zwischen Finale und Vado, Ligurien - Grotta del Frate bei Feglino, Ligurien - S. Lucia bei Toirano, Ligurien - Höhle des Hkl. Ampelio, Ligurien - Höhle des Einsiedlers zwischen Mentone und Sospel, Ligurien - Grotte di Romito, Kalabrien * Ungarn - Bathorihöhle in Budapest (2 Jahrzehnte lang Aufenthaltsort von László Báthori, Ordensbruder im Paulinenkloster im 15. Jahrhundert, nutzte die Zeit zur Niederschrift von Kommentarten zur Heiligen Schrift in ungarischer Sprache) - Einsiedlerhöhle im Remetetal im Stadtgebiet von Budapest Ein weiteres Kapitel dieses Themas sind die EREMITAGEN. Hier sollen nur die interessieren, die mit "Höhlen" zu tun haben, denn eine "Eremitage" in Sankt Petersburg etwa, ist dafür viel zu groß geraten. Es gibt sie etwa in * Arlesheim südlich von Basel in der Schweiz * die "Felseneremitage" bei Bretzenheim, D * die Eremitage in Bayreuth, D * die Eremitage im Schlosspark Favorite bei Rastatt.... ...wird fortgesetzt Literatur: Watteck, Nora Einsiedler, Inklusen, Eremiten, Klausner und Waldbrüder im Salzburgischen, Verlag St. Peter, Salzburg 1972 Melchers, Carlo Das Große Buch der Heiligen, W. Ludwig Buchverlag, München 1999 Hartmann, Helga und Wilhelm, redigiert von Die Höhlen Niederösterreichs, Band 4, Wien 1990 Klappacher, Walter, Gesamtredaktion Salzburger Höhlenbuch, Band 5, Salzburg 1992 Gauchon, Christophe Des cavernes & des hommes, KARSTOLOGIA mémoires n° 7-1997 Beer, Ulrich Ein Garten, der jedem offen steht: das Glück der Einsamkeit, chrisma November 2000, S.44f. Timmerberg, Helge tiger fressen keine yogis - stories von unterwegs, solibrooriginär, Münster 2001 Melchers Das Große Buch der Heiligen, Ludwig-Verlag, München 1999 Maria Anna Leenen Einsam und allein? Eremiten in Deutschland ISBN 3-7462-1423-8 Benno Verlag 2001 Illich, Heinz Sankt Wendelin Höhlen bei Dörzbach / Jagst, Beiträge zur Höhlen- und Karstkunde in Südwestdeutschland, Heft 7, 1975, S. 7 ff. Links: http://www.lochstein.de/reindex.htm |
| #37 http://www.kirchenradiotv.de/search_erg.jsp?kategorien_id=4&medium=&mode=suchen24.05.2005 - 11:18 |
| http://www.kirchenradiotv.de/search_erg.jsp?kategorien_id=4&medium=&mode=suchen |
| #36 http://www.campusi.com/bookFind/24.05.2005 - 10:16 |
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