INAUGURAL MASS HOMILY
No one was quite sure what to expect from Pope Francis's
inaugural Mass. As archbishop of Buenos Aires, Jorge Mario Cardinal Bergoglio
had, to put it mildly, refrained from displays of pomp and circumstance in his
liturgies, as in his personal life. The Vatican had alreadyannounced a
number of changes from inaugural Masses of the past, the chief among them being
that today's Mass would be that of the Solemnity of Saint Joseph, Spouse of the
Blessed Virgin Mary, rather than a specific Mass for the Inauguration of a
Roman Pontiff. And in his first few days as pope, Francis has shown a penchant
for going off-text, which could have led to some interesting lines in his
homily.
In the
end, though, the inaugural Mass was exactly what we should have expected it to
be: simple, dignified, and beautiful.
My wife and I tuned in at 3 A.M. CDT, just in time to see Pope
Francis entering Saint Peter's Square, not in the Popemobile but standing up in
the back of a Jeep. The crowd, estimated at over one million people, was
enthusiastic, and I suddenly sensed what has been lost since the attempted assassination of Pope John Paul II on May 13, 1981. The desire to keep the pope safe has led to
Popemobiles with ever-thicker bulletproof glass, surrounded by Vatican
security; to see Pope Francis standing entirely in the open, with minimal
security around him, brought not only a sense of joy but of hope.
John
Paul II and Benedict XVI, I am sure, were not afraid of martyrdom, but for
whatever reason they had not resisted the perfectly understandable increase in
security. Pope Francis, one might say, is willing to take his life into his own
hands—or rather, to place his life in the hands of Christ and the saints, and
perhaps especially in the hands of Saint Joseph, whose role as protector of the
universal Church was the central theme of the Holy Father's homily.
In his homily, Pope Francis did not go off-text, and so it lacked, perhaps, a
bit of the charm that we have come in less than a week to expect from this
pope; yet it built not only on the readings for the Mass but on the themes of
journeying, building, and professing that have come already to mark this
pontificate. Joseph was a carpenter, a builder, and he built a life to protect
Mary and Jesus; and he did so "Discreetly, humbly and silently, but with
an unfailing presence and utter fidelity, even when he finds it hard to
understand." Listening to that line near the beginning of the homily, and
especially the last clause, I was struck by the sense that the Holy Father was
applying it to himself: "even when he finds it hard to understand."
Whatever gifts the Holy Spirit might bestow on the successor of Saint Peter
clearly do not include omniscience; yet humility, discretion, silence, and
faithfulness can make up for that lack. And those are virtues that we, too, can
learn from Saint Joseph, as "In him, dear friends, we learn how to respond
to God’s call, readily and willingly, but we also see the core of the Christian
vocation, which is Christ!"
And it
was Christ Who shone forth in the inaugural Mass today. There were so many
little touches—always simple, always dignified, always beautiful—that reminded
those of us who were there in body or in spirit what this Mass really meant.
And what this Mass really means: because the inaugural Mass held in Saint
Peter's Square held in every Catholic church in the world today, and every day.
Elements
of the ceremony that had caused confusion when they were announced became clear
when they were practiced. The Gospel was chanted in Greek, "as," the
Vatican declared yesterday, "at the highest solemnities, to show that the
universal Church is made up of the great traditions of the East and the
West." Yet it was more than that: The Greek Catholic deacon came to the
Holy Father to receive his blessing before proclaiming the Gospel, as is the
practice in the Roman rite, but then the Gospel was also introduced as it is in
the Eastern Divine Liturgy, with a second blessing and the words "Wisdom!
Let us be attentive!" As at the Sign of Peace, when the Orthodox Ecumenical
Patriarch Bartholomew I was brought to the altar so that Pope Francis could
embrace him, this was a poignant sign of the underlying unity of the Church,
East and West, and yet also of all that keeps the two lungs of the Church from
full communion.
The gifts of bread and wine were not offered by laymen, as had
been the custom under the previous two popes; rather, they were brought to the
altar by the deacons, which had been the practice in the Roman rite from the
beginning. Pope Francis, we had been told, would not distribute Communion, and yet he did. But he distributed Communion
to the deacons, rather than to the lay faithful—a return, again, to a
traditional practice that has fallen to the wayside. And he gave Communion
through intinction, dipping the Host into the Precious Blood, which required
those receiving Communion to do so on the tongue, while kneeling.
Meanwhile, 500 priests made their way through Saint Peter's Square
to distribute Communion to the faithful, each priest under a white umbrella to
protect the Eucharist and to signal its presence—another return to tradition
that has been practiced infrequently, at best, in papal public Masses over the
last 35 years. The music was solemn and dignified, a mixture of Gregorian chant
and classical compositions befitting the occasion. The pallium Pope Francis
received as a symbol of his authority as bishop of Rome was the one most
recently used by Pope Benedict XVI, and the crozier was (I believe) once again
that of Pope Pius IX, which the Holy Father had used at the Mass that closed the papal conclave last Thursday.
For
those who remember the inaugural Masses of previous pontiffs, today's Mass
certainly felt simpler—and yet it had the same dignity and beauty. And at its
core was the Cross of Christ, in the center of the altar, and the Eucharist,
consecrated on that altar. And both remind us of the point of the papacy, and
the source of its power, as Pope Francis declared in his homily:
Today, together with the
feast of Saint Joseph, we are celebrating the beginning of the ministry of the
new Bishop of Rome, the Successor of Peter, which also involves a certain
power. Certainly, Jesus Christ conferred power upon Peter, but what sort of
power was it? Jesus’ three questions to Peter about love are followed by three
commands: feed my lambs, feed my sheep. Let us never forget that authentic power
is service, and that the Pope too, when exercising power, must enter ever more
fully into that service which has its radiant culmination on the Cross. He must
be inspired by the lowly, concrete and faithful service which marked Saint
Joseph and, like him, he must open his arms to protect all of God’s people and
embrace with tender affection the whole of humanity, especially the poorest,
the weakest, the least important, those whom Matthew lists in the final
judgment on love: the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the sick
and those in prison (cf. Mt 25:31-46). Only those who serve with love are able
to protect!
May God
bless Pope Francis, as he serves the People of God with love—and teaches us to
do the same. And may God grant him many happy years, as he faithfully preaches
the Word of His Truth!
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