Travelling north on the high-speed
FrecciArgento, headed from Rome to what is today the extreme north-eastern corner
of the Italian Republic, my colleagues were concerned with planning, practicalities
and logistics: how are we going to meet? Who is going to sign for the rental car (that
would take us to Aquileia on the Thursday afternoon ahead of Pope Benedict XVI’s arrival)?
Should we leave our equipment for the technical crew? They knew they were going to
cover Pope Benedict XVI's visit to an historically important area of Italy, one facing
social, economic, political and ecclesial challenges with regional repercussions.
That was all true, but they had the background, as did their audience. The question
pressing itself on me, the Anglophone who does not usually cover that beat, was rather
that most basic, twofold one for all journalists: “What’s the story?” and "how do
I tell it?"
To be sure, the loci of the Pope’s visit were and are beautiful,
magnificent sources of literary and other inspiration.
Aquileia: today a quaint
and quiet town, the place was founded in 180 BC during Rome’s wars to end piracy in
the Adriatic, secure the Italian peninsula and expand Roman control into the western
Balkans. The settlement grew to become one of the most important cities in the Empire,
a centre of commerce and a cultural crossroads for centuries. The gospel came early
to Aquileia: the earliest worship building on the site where stands today the soaring,
thousand year-old structure of the Basilica was a “house church” – a domus ecclesia
from the time of Augustus. No humble abode, the house was rather a sprawling Roman
villa belonging to a wealthy and important family in one of the wealthiest and most
important imperial cities. Patient and painstaking archaeological work has preserved
and continues to preserve the precious artistic treasures found there - treasures
that are doubtless part and parcel of the contribution Christianity has made to the
common cultural patrimony of Western civilization. More to this: they are testament
to the Christians who pledged their all: their lives, their fortunes and their sacred
honour, to practice and to spread the faith throughout the whole world. Venice:
to say it out loud is to conjure images, memories and fantasies of romantic adventure,
political intrigue, war, wealth, daring, triumph and tragedy – all these, paradoxically,
almost synonymous with la serenissima, the city of St. Mark and Our Lady, which human
genius has made to rise from the sea, which Divine providence has often chastised
and ever spared from destruction by fire, plague, or invasion. Impossibly wealthy
and opulent, the city was for centuries desired as a prize by Christian princes and
Turkish sultans alike. It is truly the pearl of the Adriatic.
The Radio, however,
did not send me to write a sight-seeing essay or a travelogue.
Enter Pope Benedict
XVI: he wasted no time in establishing both the themes and the tone of the visit.
The Holy Father’s first public remarks were rhapsodic praise of the Church in Aquileia,
in which he recalled the ancient roots of the Church, the Aquileian Church’s pivotal
role in the evangelization of central Europe and in the defence of the true faith
against the Arian heresy. Pope Benedict did not, however, merely praise Aquileia’s
past glories: he also encouraged the faithful of Aquileia and all her daughter Churches
in thrilling language, calling the faithful of the present generation, “[C]hildren
and heirs of the glorious Church of Aquileia,” and explaining that his purpose among
them was to confirm them in the deep faith of their fathers. “In this hour of history,”
he said, “rediscover, defend, and professes with warmth of spirit [the] fundamental
truth,” of Christ’s holy Gospel, amid the myriad cultural changes and social insecurities
of modern life. This rhythm of praise and challenge would form the pattern of the
Pope’s public remarks throughout the visit.
What’s in a word?
“In this
hour of history,” he said: and here, I found the key. The modern world is the world
mox hodie, the world that is 'just today', i.e. the world without history. The claim
of the Church, however, is that Christ is the culmination of the history of salvation.
A world that has no history is a world for which yesterday is meaningless, by definition
unthinkable. Such a world will not be able to understand that it needs saving. Pope
Benedict XVI went to Italy’s northeast to help the people there recover the sense
of history, so that the Gospel of Jesus Christ can once again be preached and received
– or better, recognized for what it is: the fulfilment of life and all creation, and
at once the leaven and the bonding agent for a cultural and a civilizational project
of which the people of that region, and by extension, Europe, are heirs and carriers.
In short, Pope Benedict XVI went to Italy’s north-east to show the world how to do
the New Evangelization.That is the story.