Homily for Mass of Thanksgiving for the Papacy of Pope Benedict XVI
Prepared and delivered by Msgr. William Benwell
Bl. John Paul II was known as the “Pope of Surprises,” although even he never
managed, in pontificate of more than 26 years, to surprise the Church—and the
world—as Pope Benedict did 17 days ago. Not even Pope John XXIII’s announcement
in January 1959, that, at age 77, he was convoking an ecumenical council had the
same shock value, since his two immediate predecessors had talked of holding a
council.
It is much too early, of course, to attempt a definitive judgment on Benedict’s
pontificate, even if pundits already have. But some of his legacy to the Church is, I
think, obvious: acclaimed encyclicals on the theological virtues of faith, hope, and
charity; eight years of insightful and accessible Wednesday Audience reflections on
the Apostles and the early Church, Paul, the saints, and, most recently, prayer and
the Creed; his promotion of a “New Evangelization” to bring back to the Church our
brothers and sisters whom Christ speaks of in the Parable of the Sower: those who
once welcomed the word of the kingdom, but have forsaken it because of lack of
understanding or tribulations or the allure of worldly things (Mt 13:18-22).
But to paraphrase Shakespeare’s Malcolm on the death of the Thane of Cawdor,
“Nothing in his life/Became him like the leaving of it,” I believe history will record
that nothing in Benedict’s papacy so reflected his character and integrity as his taking
leave of it.
We live in a world (probably not very different from any other period in human
history) where people in power cling to it. When was the last time you heard anyone
use the phrase “term limits?” We live in a celebrity-driven culture where people are
willing to expose their deepest flaws and darkest secrets, even humiliate themselves,
just to be famous or to remain famous. And then 17 days ago, the spiritual leader of
more than a billion souls, arguably the most recognized person in the world, conscious
of his diminished stamina, announced that it was unfair to those billion souls not to be
led by a pope with the “strength of mind and body” equal to the task of “govern[ing]
the barque of Saint Peter.” Seventeen days ago, Benedict put the Gospel first and
himself second. It was such a counter-cultural act that people are still processing it;
people are still asking, “Why did he really do it?” From everything I’ve ever heard or
read about the man who was Pope Benedict XVI, if you want to know why he really
did it, you need look no farther than the words of Jesus in the Gospel reading for
yesterday, Benedict’s last full day in the Chair of Peter:
You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them and the great
ones make their authority over them felt. But it shall not be so among
you. Rather, whoever wishes to be great among you shall be your
servant; whoever wishes to be first among you shall be your slave. Just
so, the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give
his life as a ransom for many (Mt 20:25-28).
“Why did he really do it?” Within the last few days I heard a story about
Benedict that was new to me. Someone interviewed on the radio recalled seeing the
Pope arrive at a prayer service on one of his foreign travels, and how the people
began chanting, as people usually did, “Ben-e-dict. Ben-e-dict.” But the Pope saw
that the Blessed Sacrament was exposed on the altar, and so instead of
acknowledging the crowd, he immediately turned around and knelt before the
monstrance, saying then what he has been saying the last two weeks: it must always
be about putting Jesus Christ first.
Somewhat lost up to this point in the fact of Pope Benedict’s resignation—its
historic context and its possible future significance—is what he has said he will do
from now until the end of his life. He has spoke these past few weeks of being
“hidden from the world,” a phrase similar to that used to describe the first 30 or so
years of Our Lord’s life, his “hidden years,” years spent preparing for the ministry
that would end with his death on the cross. He has spoken about a life given over to
prayer and contemplation. I can’t help but think of that scene in the ministry when
Jesus is visiting with Martha and Mary (Lk 10:38-42). You know the story. Martha,
busy with the responsibilities of hospitality, complains that her sister just sits at the
Lord’s feet “listening to him speak” (10:39). “Martha,” Jesus replies, “you are
anxious and worried about many things. There is need of only one thing. Mary has
chosen the better part and it will not be taken from her” (10:41-42).
This has been an historic day and more historic days lay ahead of us. But more
than a history lesson, today has, hopefully, reminded us of greater, more enduring
truths—about selflessness and humility and the importance of prayer and preparing by
the actions we take and the decisions we make for the day that will come to all of
us—the day I suspect is very much on Benedict’s mind—when we will stand before the
Lord and answer not the question, “Who do you say that I am?” (Mt 16:15), but “Who
did you say that I am?”
For his dedication and service to the Church over many decades, and
particularly for his witness of the past 17 days, I suspect I know what the Lord will say
when it is time for this former successor of Peter to answer Christ’s question to the
Peter the Apostle: “Well done, my good and faithful servant […] Come, share your
master’s joy” (Mt 25:23).
Cathedral of St. Francis of Assisi
Metuchen
February 28, 2013