“Redemptor Hominis”

The Announcement and the Method
Thirty years after the first and (historic) encyclical by John Paul II, Msgr. Albacete gives witness to “Christ, center of the universe and of history,” explaining how his life has changed, starting with an encounter...

by Lorenzo Albacete

When I first met Msgr. Giussani 16 years ago, I had no idea what we would talk about. I flew up from Rome to Milan to have lunch with “Don Gius” and a mutual friend who had arranged the meeting. I thought our friend would guide the conversation, but the day before the meeting I learned that he would not be there. It would just be a lunch meeting between Giussani and myself. On the flight to Milan, I browsed through a book by Giussani that I had picked up in order to have it autographed (L’Avvenimento Cristiano, The Christian Event), and because our friend had told me it would help me understand what Giussani was all about.
Paging through the book, trying to find common interests that we could discuss, I found the following remarks by Fr. Giussani: “‘The Redeemer of Man, Jesus Christ, is the center of the universe and of history.’ When I heard John Paul II repeating these words during his first speech (and the same sentence was literally, my friends can witness to it, the usual text of our meditation),  the emotion I felt reminded me of the dialectics developed between me and my students at school, and the deep tension with which we gathered in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”
I was amazed because he seemed to be describing the same reaction I had when, for the first time, I read Pope John Paul II’s first encyclical, Redemptor Hominis, thirty years ago (March 4, 1979). RH begins with this affirmation: “The Redeemer of Man, Jesus Christ, is the center of the universe and of history. To Him go my thoughts and my heart in this solemn moment of the world that the Church and the whole family in present-day humanity are now living.”

The background. I remember well that day. I was driving Cardinal Suenens of Belgium to the Vatican Embassy in Washington, DC, from a meeting somewhere, and he took out a copy of the encyclical and began to read it. At that time, I was Secretary for Theological Research to the Archbishop of Washington, Cardinal William Baum. Driving Cardinals around town was one of the perks of the job; I guess it was considered “field research,” beyond reading books, documents, and articles. In fact, I had met Cardinal Wojtyla doing the same thing!
Baum had become Archbishop of Washington a few months after my ordination, and I was asked to accompany him to the graduation of an Archdiocesan high school where I had taught religion as a Deacon. It was the first opportunity we had to get to know each other. On the way back from the ceremony, however, his mood had changed and he seemed preoccupied with something. When I asked him what it was, he said, “Did you notice that during the entire ceremony no one mentioned the name of Jesus until I did so in my concluding prayer?” “Not really,” I replied, “but I am not surprised.” “Why not?” he asked. And I answered, “The person of Jesus has become a kind of abstract origin of values and ethical rules. It is not that the doctrine about Him is denied; it’s that it’s taken for granted.” “Let’s talk about this,” he said. “Maybe we can do something.” The conversation that followed set the direction of my life to this day. It can be said that Cardinal Baum devoted his seven years as Archbishop of Washington to trying to eliminate this dualism. He spoke about Jesus in every speech, prayer, pastoral letter (especially those devoted to issues of justice and peace), etc. It was a privilege and blessing for me to be involved in this effort. This was the background for that day in which Cardinal Suenens read to me the first paragraphs of Redemptor Hominis. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. It was a stunning affirmation of what Baum had been doing.
His efforts, however, did not appear to have many results. It was difficult for people to understand what the Archbishop was doing, and many were concerned that the Jesus talk was a kind of pietistic or sentimental retreat from addressing the issues of the day.
Thus, when I read Fr. Giussani’s remarks on my flight to Milan, I thought, “Well, I can tell him about our efforts in Washington and how happy I was to meet ‘one of us.’”  Which is exactly what I did when, after an awkward silence during which both of us tried to figure out why our mutual friend had arranged this lunch,  he asked me, “What are you doing here? Tell me your story.”
Fr. Giussani, of course, understood my story perfectly. I see now that he also saw immediately what was missing in our efforts to overcome the dualism that we were seeking to overcome. Still, he didn’t say anything about why we had not been more successful. Instead, he seemed moved by what I had said and asked me whether I was willing to help the Movement in the United States as “a point of reference.” I was astounded, and told him that I did not know the Movement at all, and that, in fact, I was a bit afraid of movements. Still, he insisted, saying that all he had asked me was whether I was willing to help him. I see now that he was convinced that what was missing in our efforts would become clear if I became engaged with the charism. Alas, it took too many years for me to realize exactly what was missing in my life of faith and begin to appreciate the absolutely stunning originality of Giussani. The theory was correct philosophically and theologically. Redemptor Hominis was a perfect presentation of it. What was missing was the experience of the event through which all that theory became life and witness. It was one thing to know beautiful and true things about Jesus and His mission; it was another to experience it as the “consistency” of my life as a man. From a theological and philosophical perspective, Fr. Giussani was indeed “one of us.” But in reality he was much, much more. In Redemptor Hominis, Pope John Paul II had given us the vision that would sustain his decades of service to the Church. Fr. Giussani shows us–and the entire Church–the method through which the teaching of Redemptor Hominis can become an event that allows us to experience exactly how Christ is revealed and recognized to be the “Redeemer of Man who is the center of history and the universe.”
 
In my hands the documents. Re-reading Redemptor Hominis for this article, I can see that Fr. Giussani’s method is in fact outlined in the encyclical (the method, after all, is the one chosen by the Mystery to fulfill the desires that define the human heart). RH uses language different from that of Giussani, but the method is there. The problem is that for the method to become an experience of life, we must avoid the temptation to see it as a vision to be “applied.” This will not overcome the devastating and fruitless dualism. Instead, the method becomes life through following another to whom this has happened. For me, this means following Fr. Giussani within the companionship born from his charism. To paraphrase St. Augustine: “In my hands, I have the document (Redemptor Hominis); before my eyes, I have the facts: Father Giussani and those who follow his charism.”