[The Council] devotes considerable attention to the theme of the active participation of the faithful (cf. n. 114). This “must be understood […] on the basis of a greater awareness of the mystery being celebrated and its relationship to daily life” (Benedict XVI, Apostolic Exhortation Sacramentum caritatis, 52)…
The sixth chapter of the Second Vatican Council’s Constitution Sacrosanctum Concilium (SC) is dedicated to sacred music. The document states that: “The musical tradition of the universal Church is a treasure of inestimable value, greater even than that of any other art. The main reason for this pre-eminence is that, as sacred song united to the words, it forms a necessary or integral part of the solemn liturgy” (SC, 112).
In the Encyclical Mediator Dei, Pope Pius XII states that it “is not a cold and lifeless representation of the events of the past, or a simple … record of a former age. [The liturgical year] is rather Christ Himself who is ever living in His Church. The liturgical year should thus be understood as a constant renewal of the work of salvation which Christ accomplishes in history. As she journeys through this temporal cycle, the Church remains in contact with the Lord’s redemptive action, so that all the faithful may be filled with His grace (cf. SC, 102c).
We have just listened to your beautiful singing. Music has the remarkable ability to bring different voices together in unison, where each one contributes something unique to the whole. In this sense, choir becomes an ideal symbol of harmony and cooperation.
At the heart of Jesus’ teachings lies the mystery of the Kingdom of God, which today’s Gospel likens to treasure and a pearl (cf. Mt 13:44–52). The parables convey the surprise of those who find something far beyond what they could have hoped for, so much so that selling or leaving everything behind no longer seems a sacrifice, but a gain.
Three short parables recall the coming of the Kingdom of God in history, its action in human lives, and the way it grows, expands and transforms the world from within. Through these images, Jesus warns us against the temptation of thinking that God is a powerful figure who imposes himself by force, who takes over and dominates, or who arrives triumphantly. Instead, God favors smallness, a sign of his discreet love, by which he leaves us free to accept or reject him.
The Evangelist Matthew presents us with the Parable of the Sower (cf. Mt 13:1–23), which describes the generosity and trust with which God sows his Word in our hearts and his power in us…
Jesus himself, the Word made flesh, who gave his life for our salvation, is the seed that the Father continues to sow throughout the world so that, by dying, he may bear much fruit (cf. Jn 12:24). It is true that sometimes he finds in us hard and unresponsive soil, at other times distracted soil, like the beaten path, the rocky ground, or the thorny bushes. Yet there are also moments when he finds receptive and fertile ground, and then miracles of love are set in motion that have the power to transform everything.
Through the prophet Isaiah, the Lord promises that he will never forget any of us. He assures us that he has engraved our faces on the palms of his hands (cf. Is 49:16) and that his love is greater than a mother’s love for her child (cf. Is 49:15)… Even today, we can read these words as referring to each of us, and everyone can hear that “I will never forget you” spoken directly to them.
Today we celebrate the Solemnity of Saints Peter and Paul, the Patrons of Rome.
The witness of these two Apostles is like a seal upon the New Testament. The blood they shed in this city reveals the depth of God’s love that the Lord Jesus has given us. Yes, it is by their word and their martyrdom that the Gospel of Christ has, so to speak, taken root in Rome, revealing right here, in the capital of the empire, its power to renew through a new knowledge of God and of the infinite dignity of every human being, a new understanding of power — not as dominion, but as service to human life.
When Saint Augustine wanted to explain the mystery of the Body of Christ to those who were newly baptized, he took up the passage from Saint Paul that we have just heard: “Now you are Christ’s body, and individually parts of it.” (1 Cor 12:27). He adds: “It is your own mystery that you receive. To what you are, you respond: Amen…Be therefore members of the Body of Christ, so that your Amen may be true. […] Be what you see, and receive what you are” (Sermon 272: PL 38, 1247).
Through the prophet Isaiah, the Lord promises that he will never forget any of us. He assures us that he has engraved our faces on the palms of his hands (cf. Is 49:16) and that his love is greater than a mother’s love for her child (cf. Is 49:15). The prophet gives us a glimpse of an intimate and intense dialogue in which God addresses, in familiar terms, each person individually and the people as a whole. Even today, we can read these words as referring to each of us, and everyone can hear that “I will never forget you” spoken directly to them.
[Let us] pause and reflect on some of the fundamental elements of the sacred liturgy, such as the rite, the sign and the symbol.The Second Vatican Council, building on the valuable work of the Liturgical Movement, has helped us to rediscover a truth that was very much alive in the consciousness of the early Church and in the teaching of the Fathers. The rites of the Christian liturgy are not… a collection of arbitrary ceremonies, but are the ecclesial mediation through which the divine gift reaches us. Precisely for this reason, the Council invites us to understand the Mysterium fidei which is realized in the liturgy through rites and prayers (cf. SC, 48).
In drafting this Constitution [Sacrosanctum Concilium, On the sacred liturgy], the Council Fathers sought not only to undertake a reform of the rites, but to lead the Church to contemplate and deepen that living bond which constitutes and unites her: the mystery of Christ. Indeed, the liturgy touches the very heart of this mystery: it is at once the space, the time and the context in which the Church receives her very life from Christ…
Every good and worthwhile human activity is in some way a reflection of God’s infinite beauty… For God is not immobile and closed in on himself, but activity, communion, a dynamic relationship between the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, which opens up to humanity and to the world. Theologians speak of perichoresis: the life of God is a kind of “dance”: a dance of mutual love.
“The day has dawned upon us when…, glorified by his ascension into heaven following his resurrection, the Lord Jesus Christ sent the Holy Spirit” (Saint Augustine, Serm. 271, 1). Today, too, what took place in the Upper Room takes place anew in our midst. Like a mighty wind that overtakes us, like a crash that startles us, like a fire that illuminates us, the gift of the Holy Spirit descends upon us (cf. Acts 2:1-11).