A reflection on Pope Benedict XVI

Note: The following is the homily preached by Deacon James Agnew at Holy Family Church in Little Falls on Feb. 4 for the Requiem Mass for Pope Benedict XVI. 

Now will I praise those godly men, our ancestors, each in his own time. (Sirach 44:1)

It’s often the case that when something very consequential happens we begin to say to one another something like, “Where were you when ____?” and fill in the blank. Where were you when the black smoke came out of the chimney of the Sistine Chapel? Where were you when the dean of the College of Cardinals came out on the balcony and announced: The most eminent and most reverend lord, Lord Joseph Cardinal of the Holy Roman Church Ratzinger who has taken the name, Benedict XVI? I was at work, and the radio immediately went to a live news broadcast. When it was clear that Joseph Ratzinger was elected pope, I became something like the newly minted Ebenezer Scrooge on Christmas morning. That was 2005.

Can you remember 2007? Remember “motu mania” surrounding the “immanent motu proprio” that would grant some kind of liberation of the “Tridentine Mass” (that’s what we called it then)? I remember that. Was it really coming? All the speculation about that. Where were you when “Summorum Pontificum” was released? I was at my kitchen table in my house in Poestenkill reading the text for the first time. I remember being so happy. For me, it was a form of vindication. Something I love which always seemed to need some sort of justification or apologia was finally validated. This also meant that the people I served, worshiped with, and formed a community with were validated too. We were finally part of the Church. Period, full stop. Those were remarkable times. We didn’t need to apologize to be ourselves, and we didn’t need any special permissions to “be” or to simply “exist.”

Pope Benedict XVI had essentially built upon the policies of previous popes. Pope Paul VI had determined that the older liturgy could be celebrated in certain circumstances, and Pope John Paul II built upon that. Pope John Paul II wrote, “To all those Catholic faithful who feel attached to some previous liturgical and disciplinary forms of the Latin tradition I wish to manifest my will to facilitate their ecclesial communion by means of the necessary measures to guarantee respect for their rightful aspirations. In this matter, I ask for the support of the bishops and of all those engaged in the pastoral ministry in the Church. Respect, rightful aspirations, and support of the bishops.” (Pope John Paul II, Ecclesia Dei Adflicta) In 1988 these words were encouraging and then Pope Benedict’s decree demonstrated what that respect and support would look like in terms of practical norms. In the course of three papacies, there was a consistent trajectory of recognition and accommodation.

What is more, Pope Benedict XVI contextualized his motu proprio in a theology and ecclesiology that was orthodox, logical and pastoral. It did not seem possible to me that anyone who considered Pope Benedict’s presentation honestly would change course. “Summorum Pontificum” was the fruit, indeed perhaps a synthesis, of Ratzinger’s passionate, life-long study of philosophy, theology and ecclesiology. Pope Benedict XVI was an exponent of an ecclesiology of communion, in-fact he was the co-founder of an academic journal — Commuio — which exists to this day to support “the renewal of theology in continuity with the living Christian tradition, the continuing dialogue of all believers, past and present”. (Mission Statement, Communio) In other words, the Church is a living subject that following her nature must be internally coherent. We must be able to look back to her beginning and see “growth and progress, but no rupture.” (Pope Benedict XVI, Letter to the World’s Bishops on Summorum Pontificum)

This inner coherence and continuity should be observed most clearly in the celebration of the Church’s public worship; the Sacred Liturgy. The law of prayer and faith must be a coherent and consistent reality. This is why, for Pope Benedict XVI, the older liturgy couldn’t be repudiated. It was not a matter of the pope desiring the proliferation of a particular style or form of worship, as if he was using the power of his office to impose a mere preference upon the Church. In his own words, acceptance of the older forms of the liturgy is nothing short of “a matter of coming to an interior reconciliation in the heart of the Church.” (Pope Benedict XVI, Letter to the World’s Bishops on Summorum Pontificum).

Those of us who have a deep love for the liturgy and the more ancient usage, are experiencing the loss of Joseph Ratzinger, our beloved Pope Benedict XVI with a profound sense of grief. The loss of this beloved pope seems to be one more affliction we are confronted with in our life of faith. It is not only the more common feelings of loss associated with death but perhaps an increasing sense of abandonment and isolation. 

Yet, we must not give in to despair. Despair is always lurking very close to feelings of sadness and grief. Despair will paralyze us. My friends, plainly speaking, despair is an attack on the logic of the faith. In the face of our trials, we must hold fast to the sure and certain knowledge that God has truly won the battle against the evil we are confronted with. Our God has indeed had the last word. The trials we are facing in the culture and the Church are unique opportunities to unite profoundly with the sufferings of Our Lord, and unto our salvation. It is here in the Sacred Liturgy, the holy sacrifice of the Mass where we formally make our offering. Every sadness, affliction, anxiety, grief and frustration; give them to our Lord Christ, place them on the paten, and offer them up to the Lord. This is the logic of the cross. This is the spirit of the liturgy. These are the seeds of the coming resurrection.