Below is the full text of Pope Benedict XVI's 2009 Lenten Message
Dear
Brothers and Sisters!
At the beginning of Lent, which constitutes an itinerary
of more intense spiritual training, the Liturgy sets before us again three penitential
practices that are very dear to the biblical and Christian tradition – prayer, almsgiving,
fasting – to prepare us to better celebrate Easter and thus experience God’s power
that, as we shall hear in the Paschal Vigil, “dispels all evil, washes guilt away,
restores lost innocence, brings mourners joy, casts out hatred, brings us peace and
humbles earthly pride” (Paschal Præconium). For this year’s Lenten Message, I wish
to focus my reflections especially on the value and meaning of fasting. Indeed, Lent
recalls the forty days of our Lord’s fasting in the desert, which He undertook before
entering into His public ministry. We read in the Gospel: “Jesus was led up by the
Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. He fasted for forty days and
forty nights, and afterwards he was hungry” (Mt 4,1-2). Like Moses, who fasted before
receiving the tablets of the Law (cf. Ex 34,28) and Elijah’s fast before meeting the
Lord on Mount Horeb (cf. 1 Kings 19,8), Jesus, too, through prayer and fasting, prepared
Himself for the mission that lay before Him, marked at the start by a serious battle
with the tempter. We might wonder what value and meaning there is for us Christians
in depriving ourselves of something that in itself is good and useful for our bodily
sustenance. The Sacred Scriptures and the entire Christian tradition teach that fasting
is a great help to avoid sin and all that leads to it. For this reason, the history
of salvation is replete with occasions that invite fasting. In the very first pages
of Sacred Scripture, the Lord commands man to abstain from partaking of the prohibited
fruit: “You may freely eat of every tree of the garden; but of the tree of the knowledge
of good and evil you shall not eat, for
in the day that
you eat of it you shall die” (Gn 2, 16-17). Commenting on the divine injunction, Saint
Basil observes that “fasting was ordained in Paradise,” and “the first commandment
in this sense was delivered to Adam.” He thus concludes: “ ‘You shall not eat’ is
a law of fasting and abstinence” (cf. Sermo de jejunio: PG 31, 163, 98). Since all
of us are weighed down by sin and its consequences, fasting is proposed to us as an
instrument to restore friendship with God. Such was the case with Ezra, who, in preparation
for the journey from exile back to the Promised Land, calls upon the assembled people
to fast so that “we might humble ourselves before our God” (8,21). The Almighty heard
their prayer and assured them of His favor and protection. In the same way, the people
of Nineveh, responding to Jonah’s call to repentance, proclaimed a fast, as a sign
of their sincerity, saying: “Who knows, God may yet repent and turn from his fierce
anger, so that we perish not?” (3,9). In this instance, too, God saw their works and
spared them. In the New Testament, Jesus brings to light the profound motive for
fasting, condemning the attitude of the Pharisees, who scrupulously observed the prescriptions
of the law, but whose hearts were far from God. True fasting, as the divine Master
repeats elsewhere, is rather to do the will of the Heavenly Father, who “sees in secret,
and will reward you” (Mt 6,18). He Himself sets the example, answering Satan, at the
end of the forty days spent in the desert that “man shall not live by bread alone,
but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God” (Mt 4,4). The true fast is
thus directed to eating the “true food,” which is to do the Father’s will (cf. Jn
4,34). If, therefore, Adam disobeyed the Lord’s command “of the tree of the knowledge
of good and evil you shall not eat,” the believer, through fasting, intends to submit
himself humbly to God, trusting in His goodness and mercy. The practice of fasting
is very present in the first Christian community (cf. Acts 13,3; 14,22; 27,21; 2 Cor
6,5). The Church Fathers, too, speak of the force of fasting to bridle sin, especially
the lusts of the “old Adam,” and open in the heart of the believer a path to God.
Moreover, fasting is a practice that
is encountered frequently
and recommended by the saints of every age. Saint Peter Chrysologus writes: “Fasting
is the soul of prayer, mercy is the lifeblood of fasting. So if you pray, fast; if
you fast, show mercy; if you want your petition to be heard, hear the petition of
others. If you do not close your ear to others, you open God’s ear to yourself” (Sermo
43: PL 52, 320. 322). In our own day, fasting seems to have lost something of
its spiritual meaning, and has taken on, in a culture characterized by the search
for material well-being, a therapeutic value for the care of one’s body. Fasting certainly
bring benefits to physical well-being, but for believers, it is, in the first place,
a “therapy” to heal all that prevents them from conformity to the will of God. In
the Apostolic Constitution Pænitemini of 1966, the Servant of God Paul VI saw the
need to present fasting within the call of every Christian to “no longer live for
himself, but for Him who loves him and gave himself for him … he will also have to
live for his brethren“ (cf. Ch. I). Lent could be a propitious time to present again
the norms contained in the Apostolic Constitution, so that the authentic and perennial
significance of this long held practice may be rediscovered, and thus assist us to
mortify our egoism and open our heart to love of God and neighbor, the first and greatest
Commandment of the new Law and compendium of the entire Gospel (cf. Mt 22, 34-40).
The faithful practice of fasting contributes, moreover, to conferring unity to
the whole person, body and soul, helping to avoid sin and grow in intimacy with the
Lord. Saint Augustine, who knew all too well his own negative impulses, defining them
as “twisted and tangled knottiness” (Confessions, II, 10.18), writes: “I will certainly
impose privation, but it is so that he will forgive me, to be pleasing in his eyes,
that I may enjoy his delightfulness” (Sermo 400, 3, 3: PL 40, 708). Denying material
food, which nourishes our body, nurtures an interior disposition to listen to Christ
and be fed by His saving word. Through fasting and praying, we allow Him to come and
satisfy the deepest hunger that we experience in the depths of our being: the hunger
and thirst for God. At the same time, fasting is an aid to open our eyes to the
situation in which so many of our brothers and sisters live. In his First Letter,
Saint John admonishes: “If anyone has the world’s goods, and sees his brother in need,
yet shuts up his bowels of compassion from him – how does the love of God abide in
him?” (3,17). Voluntary fasting enables us to grow in the spirit of the Good Samaritan,
who bends low and goes to the help of his suffering brother (cf. Encyclical Deus caritas
est, 15). By freely embracing an act of self-denial for the sake of another, we make
a statement that our brother or sister in need is not a stranger. It is precisely
to keep alive this welcoming and attentive attitude towards our brothers and sisters
that I encourage the parishes and every other community to intensify in Lent the custom
of private and communal fasts, joined to the reading of the Word of God, prayer and
almsgiving. From the beginning, this has been the hallmark of the Christian community,
in which special collections were taken up (cf. 2 Cor 8-9; Rm 15, 25-27), the faithful
being invited to give to the poor what had been set aside from their fast (Didascalia
Ap., V, 20,18). This practice needs to be rediscovered and encouraged again in our
day, especially during the liturgical season of Lent. From what I have said thus
far, it seems abundantly clear that fasting represents an important ascetical practice,
a spiritual arm to do battle against every possible disordered attachment to ourselves.
Freely chosen detachment from the pleasure of food and other material goods helps
the disciple of Christ to control the appetites of nature, weakened by original sin,
whose negative effects impact the entire human person. Quite opportunely, an ancient
hymn of the Lenten liturgy exhorts: “Utamur ergo parcius, / verbis cibis et potibus,
/ somno, iocis et arctius / perstemus in custodia – Let us use sparingly words,
food and drink, sleep and amusements. May we be more alert in the custody of our senses.” Dear
brothers and sisters, it is good to see how the ultimate goal of fasting is to help
each one of us, as the Servant of God Pope John Paul II wrote, to make the complete
gift of self to God (cf. Encyclical Veritatis splendor, 21). May every family and
Christian community use well this time of Lent, therefore, in order to cast aside
all that distracts the spirit and grow in whatever nourishes the soul, moving it to
love of God and neighbor. I am
thinking especially of
a greater commitment to prayer, lectio divina, recourse to the Sacrament of Reconciliation
and active participation in the Eucharist, especially the Holy Sunday Mass. With this
interior disposition, let us enter the penitential spirit of Lent. May the Blessed
Virgin Mary, Causa nostrae laetitiae, accompany and support us in the effort to free
our heart from slavery to sin, making it evermore a “living tabernacle of God.” With
these wishes, while assuring every believer and ecclesial community of my prayer for
a fruitful Lenten journey, I cordially impart to all of you my Apostolic Blessing.