The Sources of Hope

(Lk 21:29-33)

The Sadducees thought that their exaggerated prosperity was the most expressive sign of the Messianic times.

The Essenes believed that the Kingdom of God [of which they wished to be a foretaste] could only be manifested when the chosen people had completely cleansed themselves of all obscurity and sacred market.

The Pharisees believed that the Messiah would be established when everyone had returned to the sacred traditions, written and oral.

Even among the early Christians, there was a variety of opinions on the matter.

Fortunately (then as now) some considered the Risen One already fully Present, never departed.

His living Spirit is manifested within each believer and in our midst - especially perceptible where there is a struggle for justice, emancipation, the fullness of life for all.

Luke ends his Apocalyptic Discourse with recommendations on the attention and penetrating gaze to be paid to the 'sign of the times'.

And - rooted in the Word of God that becomes an event and directs to the future, Hope ushers in a new phase of history.

Its depth surpasses all current possibilities, which on the contrary oscillate restlessly between signs of catastrophe.

(In old Europe, after several decades of an accommodating and soporific spiritual trend, we experience this by direct observation).

"When they have already sprouted, behold, by yourselves you know that summer is already near" (Lk 21:31).

Jesus reassures the disciples about their fears of the end of the world, and commands them not to look at coded messages, but at Nature.

Only in this way will they be able to read and interpret events.

Wise discernment, which serves not to close us off in the immediate present.

In fact, due to upheavals, a hasty evaluation could lead us to fear reversals, blocking growth and witness.

The world and things walk towards a Spring, and first and foremost in this sense we have a sentinel role.

On the ruins of a collapsing century, the Father makes clear what is happening - and continues to build what we hope [not according to immediate tastes].

Here and there we can catch its wisps, like the shoots on the 'fig tree'.

It is a tree that alludes to the fruit of love that God expects from his people, called to be tender and sweet: signs of the new season - that of healthy relationships.

In this way, the spirit of dedication manifested by the sons will be a prefiguration of the coming advent of a completely different empire - capable of replacing all others of a competitive nature in the consciousness.

The fig tree is precisely the image of the ideal people of blessings; Israel of the exodus to freedom, and a trace of the Father [in the reflective sobriety and sharing of the desert].

It remains for a long time bare and skeletal; suddenly its buds sprout, open up and in a few days it is clothed with luxuriant leaves.

Such will be the transition from chaos to the sensitive and fraternal order produced by the proclamation and assimilation of the Word: thought not equal; divine step into history.

Through suggestions that belong to the processes of nature, we are introduced to the discernment of the Mystery - expressed in the torrent of transformations.

Its riches are contained in the codes of the Word and in concrete ordinary events. Caskets of invisible realities, which do not pass away.

Such richness will even (and especially) develop out of confusion and collapse, as if by intrinsic strength and essence, day by day.

Not out of abstract exemplariness, but out of the fullness of life rediscovering its roots - rediscovering them in error and in the small.

A paradoxical seed of hope, and omen of better conditions.

For without imperfection and limitation there is no growth or blossoming, no neighbouring kingdom (vv.30-31) which always "makes contact with wounds" [Fratelli Tutti n.261].

The Tao Tê Ching (LII) says: "The world had a beginning, which was the mother of the world; whoever has come to the mother, from the mother knows the son; whoever knows the son and returns to preserve the mother, until death runs no danger [...] Enlightenment is to see the small; strength is to stick to softness [...] This is called practising the eternal".

The Word of God and the rhythms of Nature are codes that pass time. Authentic, created, given, and revealed.

Sources of discernment, of the penetrating gaze, of the signs of the times, of free thought, of the Hope that does not settle.

To internalise and live the message:

What have you learnt by contemplating nature? A different Wisdom? 

How is it that you consider it so far removed from the usual doctrine and its dirigiste or cerebral codes, which over time prove shoddy?

The world becomes a book. Art of vigilance

One of the characteristic attitudes of the Church after the Council is that of a particular attention over human reality, considered historically; that is, over the facts, events, phenomena of our time. A word of the Council has entered our habits: that of scrutinising 'the signs of the times'. Here is an expression, which has a distant evangelical reminiscence: "Do you not know how to discern - Jesus once asked his hostile and malicious listeners - the signs of the times?" (Matth. 16:4). At that time the Lord was alluding to the wonders He was performing, which were to indicate the coming of the Messianic hour. But the expression has today, along the same lines, if you like, a new meaning of great importance: in fact, Pope John XXIII took it up again in the Apostolic Constitution, with which he called the Second Vatican Ecumenical Council, when, after observing the sad spiritual conditions of the contemporary world, he wanted to revive the hope of the Church, writing: "We like to place a firm trust in the divine Saviour ... who exhorts us to recognise the signs of the times", so that "we see amid dark darkness numerous signs, which seem to announce better times for the Church and for mankind" (A.A.S. 1962, p. 6). The signs of the times are, in this sense, portents of better times.

JOHN XXIII AND THE COUNCIL

The expression passed into the conciliar documents (especially in the Pastoral Constitution Gaudium et Spes, n. 4; we glimpse it in the admirable page of n. 10: then in n. 11; so in nos. 42, 44; so in the Decree on the Activity of the Laity, n. 14; in the Constitution on the Holy Liturgy, n. 43; etc.). This locution "the signs of the times" has therefore acquired a current use and a profound, very broad and very interesting meaning; namely that of the theological interpretation of contemporary history. That history, considered in its broad outlines, has offered Christian thought the opportunity, indeed the invitation, to discover a divine plan in it, has always been well known: what is 'sacred history' if not the identification of a divine thought, of a transcendent 'economy', in the unfolding of the events that lead to Christ, and from Christ they derive? But this discovery is posthumous; it is a synthesis, sometimes questionable in its formulations, that the scholar makes when the events are already complete, and can be considered in an overall perspective, and sometimes placed deductively in an ideological framework derived from other doctrinal sources, rather than from the inductive analysis of the events themselves. Now, instead, modern thought is offered the invitation to decipher in historical reality, in the present one especially, the "signs", that is, the indications of a meaning beyond that recorded by the passive observer.

This presence of the 'sign' in the realities perceived by our immediate knowledge deserves lengthy reflection. In the religious field, the "sign" holds a very important place: the divine realm is not ordinarily accessible to our knowledge by direct, experimental, intuitive means, but by way of signs (thus knowledge of God is possible for us through introspection of things, which take on the value of a sign [cf. Rom. 1:20]; thus the supernatural order is communicated to us by the sacraments, which are sensible signs of an invisible reality, etc.); human language, too, comes to us through conventional phonetic or scriptural signs, by which thought is transmitted; and so on. In the entire created universe we can find signs of an order, of a thought, of a truth, which can act as a metaphysical bridge (i.e. beyond the framework of physical reality) to the ineffable, yet surreal world of the 'unknown God' (cf. Act. 17, 23 ff.; Rom. 8, 22; Lumen gentium, no. 16). In the perspective that we are now considering, it is a question of identifying "in the times", that is, in the course of events, in history, those aspects, those "signs" that can give us some news of an immanent Providence (a thought that is usual for religious spirits); or there may be clues (and this is what interests us now) of some relationship with the "kingdom of God", with its secret action, or - even better for our study and our duty - with the possibility, with the availability, with the need for apostolic action. These clues seem to us to be precisely 'the signs of the times'.

THE WORLD BECOMES A BOOK

Hence a series of important and interesting conclusions. The world becomes a book for us. Our life today is very much engaged in the continuous viewing of the external world. The media are so overgrown, so aggressive, that they engage us, distract us, take us away from ourselves, empty us of our personal consciousness. Here: let us be careful. We can move from the position of mere observers to that of critics, of thinkers, of judges. This attitude of reflected knowledge is of the utmost importance for the modern soul, if it wants to remain a living soul, and not a mere screen of the thousand impressions to which it is subject. And for us Christians, this reflexive act is necessary, if we want to discover "the signs of the times"; because as the Council teaches (Gaudium et spes, no. 4), the interpretation of "the times", that is, of the empirical and historical reality, which surrounds and impresses us, must be done "in the light of the Gospel". The discovery of the "signs of the times" is a fact of the Christian conscience; it results from a confrontation of faith with life; not to artificially and superficially superimpose a pious thought on the cases of our experience, but rather to see where these cases postulate, due to their intrinsic dynamism, their very obscurity, and sometimes their very immorality, a ray of faith, an evangelical word, that classifies them, that redeems them; that is to say, the discovery of the "signs of the times" takes place in order to point out to us where they come of themselves to meet higher designs, which we know to be Christian and divine (such as the search for unity, peace, justice), and where a possible action of our charity or apostolate comes to match a maturing of favourable circumstances, indicating that the hour has come for a simultaneous progress of the kingdom of God in the human kingdom.

THE METHOD TO BE FOLLOWED

This method seems indispensable to us in order to avoid certain dangers, to which the attractive search for the "signs of the times" could expose us. First danger, that of a charismatic prophetism, often degenerating into bigoted fantasy, which gives fortuitous and often insignificant coincidences miraculous interpretations. The greed to easily discover "the signs of the times" can make us forget the often possible ambiguity of the evaluation of the facts observed; and this all the more so if we must recognise to the "People of God", that is, to every believer, an eventual capacity to discern "the signs of God's presence or design" (Gaudium et spes, no. 11): "the sensus fidei" can confer this gift of wise discernment, but the assistance of the hierarchical magisterium will always be providential and decisive, when the ambiguity of interpretation deserves to be resolved either in the certainty of the truth, or in the utility of the common good.

The second danger would be constituted by the purely phenomenal observation of the facts from which one wishes to extract the indication of the 'signs of the times'; and this is what can happen when these facts are detected and classified in purely technical and sociological schemes. That sociology is a science of great merit in itself and for the purpose that interests us here, that is, for the search for a superior and indicative meaning of the facts themselves, we gladly admit. But sociology cannot be a moral criterion in its own right, nor can it replace theology. This new scientific humanism could mortify the authenticity and originality of our Christianity and its supernatural values.

THE ART OF CHRISTIAN VIGILANCE

Another danger could arise from considering the historical aspect of this problem as prevalent. It is true that the study here is concerned with history, it is concerned with time, and it seeks to derive from it signs proper to the religious field, which for us is all gathered in the central event of the historical presence of Christ in time and in the world, from which the Gospel, the Church and its mission of salvation derive. In other words, the immutable element of revealed truth should not be subject to the mutability of the times, in which it spreads and sometimes makes its appearance with "signs" that do not alter it, but allow it to be glimpsed and realised in pilgrim humanity (cf. CHENU, Les signes des temps, in Nouv. Revue Théol. 1-1-65, pp. 29-39). But all this only calls us to attention, to the study of the "signs of the times", which must make our Christian judgement and our apostolate shrewd and modern in the midst of the torrent of transformations in the contemporary world. It is the ancient, ever living word of the Lord that resounds to our spirits: "Watch out" (Luc. 21:36). May Christian vigilance be the art for us in discerning the "signs of the times".

[Pope Paul VI, General Audience 16 April 1969].

Word and diversity

All human things, all things that we can invent, create, are finite. All human religious experiences are also finite, they show one aspect of reality, because our being is finite and only ever understands a part, some elements: "latum praeceptum tuum nimis". Only God is infinite. And therefore his Word is also universal and knows no boundaries. By entering therefore into the Word of God, we truly enter the divine universe. We leave the narrowness of our experiences and enter into reality, which is truly universal. By entering into communion with the Word of God, we enter into the communion of the Church that lives the Word of God. We do not enter into a small group, into the rule of a small group, but we step out of our limitations. We step out into the wide, into the true breadth of the one truth, the great truth of God. We are truly in the universal. And so we go out into the communion of all brothers and sisters, of all humanity, because in our heart is hidden the desire for the Word of God that is one. Therefore, evangelisation, the proclamation of the Gospel, the mission are not a kind of ecclesial colonialism, with which we want to include others in our group. It is getting out of the limits of individual cultures into the universality that connects all, unites all, makes us all brothers.Let us pray again that the Lord will help us to truly enter into the 'breadth' of his Word and thus open ourselves to the universal horizon of humanity, that which unites us with all diversity.

[Pope Benedict, Meditation to the 12th General Assembly of the Synod, 6 October 2008].