List of points

Have you never wondered, out of a holy curiosity, just how Jesus carried through to its conclusion this outpouring of his love? Once again it is St Paul who gives us the answer: 'though being by nature God… he emptied himself, and took the nature of a slave, fashioned in the likeness of men'. My children, fill yourselves with wonder and gratitude at such a mystery and learn from it. All the power, all the majesty, all the beauty, all the infinite harmony of God, all his great and immeasurable riches, God whole and entire! was hidden for our benefit in the Humanity of Christ. The Almighty appears determined to eclipse his glory for a time, so as to make it easy for his creatures to approach their Redeemer.

'No man,' St John writes, 'has ever seen God; but now his only-begotten Son, who abides in the bosom of the Father, has himself revealed him,' appearing to the astonished gaze of men: first, as a new-born babe, in Bethlehem; then, as a child just like other children; later on, in the Temple, as a bright and alert 12-year old; and finally in the lovable and attractive image of the Teacher who stirred the hearts of the enthusiastic crowds that accompanied him.

We have only to consider a few traits of God's Love made flesh and our souls are touched by his generosity; they are set on fire and feel gently impelled to contrition for having been petty and selfish on so many occasions. Jesus does not mind lowering himself in order to raise us from our destitution to the dignity of being children of God and brothers of his. You and I, unlike him, often pride ourselves stupidly on the gifts and talents we have received, to the point of making them a pedestal from which to impose our will on others, as if the merits of our few relatively successful efforts derived from ourselves alone. 'What do you have that you have not received from God? And if what you have, you have received, why do you boast as if you had not received it?'

When we think of God's self-giving and the way he humbled himself — I am saying this so that each one of us can meditate on it and apply it to himself — then the vainglory and presumption of the proud man stands out as a truly hideous sin, for the very reason that such conduct is poles apart from the model given us by Jesus Christ. Think about it slowly: He, being God, humiliated himself; man, puffed up with self-love, tries to build himself up at any cost, without recognising that he is but a creature of clay, and poor clay at that.

The scenes of my student days come back to me again. What a demonstration of faith it was! I can almost hear the liturgical singing, breathe the smell of incense, see those thousands and thousands of men, each with his own misery — but each with a childlike heart; a little child who may perhaps be unable to lift up his eyes to meet those of his father. 'Know and see that it is an evil and bitter thing for you, to have forsaken the Lord your God.' Let us renew our firm decision never to forsake Our Lord for the cares of this world. Let us increase our thirst for God, making specific resolutions for our daily conduct, like little ones who recognise how needy they are and who therefore keep looking and calling for their Father.

But, let me go back to what I was telling you before: we have to learn to behave like children, we have to learn how to be God's sons. At the same time, we have to pass on to others this outlook which in the midst of our natural weaknesses, will make us 'strong in the faith', fruitful in good works, and certain of our way, so that no matter what kind of mistakes we may make, even the most embarrassing, we will never hesitate to react and return to the sure path of divine filiation which ends up in the open and welcoming arms of our Father God.

Which of you here does not remember the arms of his father? They probably weren't as caressing, as gentle and tender as those of his mother. But our father's strong and powerful arms held us tight and safe and warm. Lord, I thank you for those tough arms. Thank you for those strong hands. Thank you for that sturdy and tender heart. I was going to thank you also for my errors! No, you don't want them! But you understand them, and excuse them and forgive them.

This is the wisdom God wants us to practise in our dealings with him. This indeed is a good mathematical lesson to learn to recognise that we are really a zero, but that our Father God loves each one of us just as we are, yes, indeed, just as we are! I — who am nothing but a poor man — love each one of you as he is, so just imagine what God's Love will be like! That is provided we struggle, provided we are determined to bring our life into line with our conscience. a well formed conscience.

It would be naive to think that the demands of Christian charity are easy to fulfil. Our day to day experience of the affairs of men, even unfortunately within the Church itself, tells us a very different story. If love did not bid us keep silence, each could tell a lengthy tale of disunity, personal attacks, injustice, slander and intrigue. Let us admit it openly, and try for our part to apply the right solution to the problem, which should consist in our personal efforts not to wound or ill-treat anyone, and not to humiliate others when we have to correct them.

The problem of course is not new. Only a few years after Christ's Ascension into heaven, when most of the apostles were still alive and active and there was a wonderful atmosphere of faith and hope, there were already quite a number who had begun to lose their way, failing to follow the charity of their Master.

To the Corinthians St Paul writes, 'Do not these rivalries, these dissensions among you show that nature is still alive, that you are guided by human standards? When one of you says, I am for Paul, and another, I am for Apollo, are not these human thoughts,' of men who do not understand that Christ came to do away with all these divisions? 'Why, what is Apollo, what is Paul? Only the ministers of the God in whom your faith rests, who have brought that faith to each of you in the measure God granted.'

The Apostle is not condemning diversity. Each person has his own gift from God, some in one thing, some in another. These differences, however, must serve the good of the Church. I feel moved right now to ask Our Lord (and if you wish you can join in my prayer) not to permit uncharitableness to sow its cockle in the Church. Charity is the salt of the Christian apostolate. If it should lose its taste, how can we come to the world and proclaim: 'Here is Christ?'

Therefore I repeat to you with St Paul, 'I may speak with every tongue that men and angels use; yet, if I lack charity, I am no better than echoing bronze, or the clash of cymbals. I may have powers of prophecy, no secret hidden from me, no knowledge too deep for me; I may have utter faith, so that I can move mountains; yet if I lack charity, I count for nothing. I may give away all that I have to feed the poor; I may give myself up to be burnt at the stake; if I lack charity, it goes for nothing.'

Some people have reacted to these words of the Apostle to the Gentiles like those disciples who, on hearing Our Lord promise the Sacrament of his Body and Blood, commented: 'This is a hard saying. Who can listen to it?' It is indeed hard, because the charity described by St Paul is not just philanthropy, humanitarianism or an understandable sympathy for the sufferings of others. Rather it requires the practice of the theological virtue of loving God and of loving others for the sake of God. This is why 'charity never fails, whereas prophecies will disappear, and tongues will cease, and knowledge will be destroyed… So there abide faith, hope and charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.'

We are now convinced that charity has nothing whatever in common with the caricature that sometimes has been made of this central virtue of the Christian life. Why, then is it necessary to preach about it so constantly? Is it just a topic that has to be preached about, but has little chance of being put into practice in everyday life?

If we look about us we could find reasons for believing that charity is a phantom virtue. But if we then consider things from a supernatural point of view, we can also see what is the root cause of this sterility: the absence of a continuous and intense, person-to-person relationship with Our Lord Jesus Christ, and an ignorance of the work of the Holy Spirit in the soul, whose very first fruit is precisely charity.

In commenting on St Paul's advice, 'bear one another's burdens and so you will fulfil the law of Christ', one of the Fathers of the Church says, 'By loving Christ we can easily bear the weaknesses of others, including those people whom we do not love as yet because they are lacking in good works.'

This is the direction taken by the path that makes us grow in charity. We would be mistaken were we to believe that we must first engage in humanitarian activities and social works, leaving the love for God to one side. 'Let us not neglect Christ out of concern for our neighbour's illness, for we ought to love the sick for the sake of Christ.'

Turn your gaze constantly to Jesus who, without ceasing to be God, humbled himself and took the nature of a slave, in order to serve us. Only by following in his direction will we find ideals that are worthwhile. Love seeks union, identification with the beloved. United to Christ, we will be drawn to imitate his life of dedication, his unlimited love and his sacrifice unto death. Christ brings us face to face with the ultimate choice: either we spend our life in selfish isolation, or we devote ourselves and all our energies to the service of others.

Let us now ask Our Lord, as we finish these moments of conversation with him, to enable us to say with St Paul, 'in all this we are conquerors, through him who has granted us his love. Of this I am fully persuaded: neither death nor life, nor angels or principalities or powers, neither what is present nor what is to come, no force whatever, neither the height above us nor the depth beneath us, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which comes to us in Christ Jesus Our Lord.'

Scripture sings the praises of this love with burning words: 'Many waters cannot quench charity, neither can the floods drown it.' So thoroughly did this love fill Mary's Heart that it enriched her to the point of making her a Mother for all mankind. In the Virgin Mary, her love of God is one with her concern for all her children. Her most sweet Heart, which was sensitive to the smallest details — 'they have no wine' — must have suffered immensely on seeing the collective cruelty and the ferocity of the executioners that led to the Passion and Death of Jesus. Mary, however, does not speak. Like her Son, she loves, keeps silent and forgives. Here we see the strength of love!