FEAST OF FAITH 
                   Approaches to a Theology of the Liturgy 
 
                         By Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger 
                        Translated by Graham Harrison 
                         Published by Ignatius Press 
 
                                   Part One 
                           On the Theological Basis 
                             Of Prayer and Liturgy 
 
                                 Chapter One 
                             The End of Religion? 
 
1.  A Contemporary Dispute 
 
     A few years ago those interested in the debate about Christianity could 
have followed a characteristically confusing dispute which appeared in the 
SUEDDEUTSCHE ZEITUNG.[1]  The Dominican Father Anselm Hertz published an 
article entitled "Have We Come to the End of All Religion?", in which he 
presented a totally irresponsible picture of the course of history, albeit 
one that has gained wide currency.  In former times, so he maintained, 
religion had been the public and private bond linking society and the 
individual to God or the gods; it was manifest in pious conduct and in cultic 
behavior.  No doubt as a rhetorical ploy, he illustrates his argument (with 
references to Augustine) by citing the prayer made by both sides in war for 
victory or preservation.  (Thus the reader is encouraged to associate the 
issue of prayer with that of war.)  His supposedly logical conclusion with 
regard to the phenomenon of war is evidently meant to be of general 
application:  "The metaphysical, transcendental reference of all causes has 
been dismantled; and if the cause can no longer be interpreted 
metaphysically, a metaphysical view of the effects becomes superfluous 
too."[2]  This general proposition is then reapplied to the concrete case, 
yielding the characteristic aside:  "Prayer for victory or preservation in 
battle has become meaningless, even if now and then armies and weapons 
continue to be blessed."[3] 
     According to Fr. Hertz's scheme of history, private piety was able to 
keep going for a long time after the demise of public religion.  God was no 
longer responsible "for the events of war as a whole but only for the fate of 
his faithful ones."  It is thus an easy matter to describe this phase of 
religious history as schizophrenia and go on to make the reader aware that 
the time for private piety, too, has run out.[4]  At this point he goes 
beyond the topic of war which up to now provided the argument:  a God who 
"was primarily seen as a God of the weather, of protection and blessing" has 
disappeared, and this means that a God of transcendence, standing over 
against immanence, belongs "to the magical and mythical substrata of human 
religiosity" which has been "nowadays largely overcome".[5]  Now the new form 
of religion heaves in sight, the third phase of this view of history, in 
which modern man is ensconced, finally, above all the errors and false starts 
of the past:  now the criterion of religion is no longer "in what forms man's 
attachment to God is expressed, but whether man is ready and able to 
transcend himself".[6]  No doubt all men may aspire to this readiness, this 
capacity, especially as what it implies is left totally vague. 
     However, while the good Dominican was endeavoring to console the reader 
for the loss of a personal God (albeit by too obvious a sleight-of-hand in the 
matter of prayer in time of war), the political theorist Lobkowicz was 
pulling the veil from his somewhat confused arguments.  Not mincing matters, 
he simply asked what this "self-transcendence" meant:  "What good is it for 
Hertz to urge us to transcend ourselves?  A propos, it is noticeably those 
who think they are too superior to talk simply and concretely of God who are 
in the habit of talking about 'transcendence'. . . .  Suppose I had achieved 
this transcendence and come face to face with the 'ultimate ground of being' 
which 'is manifest everywhere in the world, wherever man is searching for the 
abiding meaning of his existence'.  What then?  Do I respectfully salute this 
'ground of being' and simply return to the hardness of my daily life?--or 
does this encounter become a fundamental experience causing me to see 
everything differently and revolutionizing my behavior?"[7]  With refreshing 
clarity Lobkowicz has expressed the fact that "every theology which no longer 
facilitates petitionary prayer, and hence thanksgiving, is a fraud."[8] 
     This drama, in which theology keeps talking although God who can speak 
and listen has long ago submerged together with the myths, is fascinating in 
the way it seems to spread, presenting itself quietly, piously, without the 
least trumpeting of heresy, as the most natural thing in the world.  It is 
impossible to read without deep sadness the "prayer", expressive of this 
approach, with which G. Hasenhuettl concludes his "Introduction to the 
Doctrine of God"--a prayer which no longer addresses anyone, desperately 
trying to convince itself that man still has access to meaning and love and 
that the experience of this is "God" for man.  Let us read a little of it to 
see what "transcendence" means in this kind of theology--a somber dialogue 
with the void, trying to keep up its courage and calling itself "prayer": 
 
                It was easy to pray when in simplicity of heart I 
	  could still kneel down and know that there was a God in 
	  heaven to see me.  I could lay my anxieties and joys 
	  before him and know that he heard me, even if I could not 
	  always experience that he did. 
	       Today I am part of a social order in which the 
	  relation of lord to servant has finally been abolished, 
	  and this means that I can no longer feel that God is Lord 
	  and I am his unworthy servant.  It would be meaningless 
	  now to fall down in worship with eyes full of tears of 
	  joy or sorrow.  It is hard now to address God as "Thou", 
	  for the only "Thou" I know is the human "Thou", in all 
	  its ambivalence.  I am a partner to my fellow men in 
	  society, but God is not my partner. . . . 
	       So I know, here and now, stripped of all illusions, 
	  that I am affirmed, that there is meaning in the 
	  absurdity of life, a meaning which brings happiness.  I 
	  am affirmed every time I give love, when I collaborate in 
	  the making of the society of the future, for all its 
	  provisional character.  So, even today, I can cry out 
	  like the psalmist thousands of years ago and say:  Yes, 
	  he is; I am affirmed; God is!  And if you want to 
	  dispense with the word "God", well and good, but keep its 
	  place open, for the reality if signifies will come to 
	  you, will force you to decide, and in love it will be 
	  revealed to you and you will find yourself crying out:  
	  "Yes, do you see?  God is when men love one another!" 
	       It often happens nowadays that we can no longer call 
	  upon God because he is not the powerful Lord; similarly 
	  we cannot live in hope of paradisal future since it is 
	  only a creation of man's imagination.  But we can thank 
	  and pray, knowing, in all our brokenness, that today 
	  itself gives us hope for the future; we live today 
	  believing in new possibilities; today we can love, we 
	  will love, for it is only today that we can experience 
	  God, it is only today that he is near to us.[9] 
 
2.  Where does the Bible stand? 
 
     We do not know what human experiences, sufferings and crises lie behind 
words such as these; we must respect them:  it is not our business to judge.  
On the other hand, we are obliged to state firmly that this is not Christian 
theology.  For the prime characteristic of Christian faith is that it is 
faith in God.  Furthermore, that this God is someone who speaks, someone to 
whom man can speak.  The Christian God is characterized by revelation, that 
is, by the words and deeds in which he addresses man, and the goal of 
revelation is man's response in word and deed, which thus expands revelation 
into a dialogue between Creator and creature which guides man toward union 
with God.[10]  So prayer is not something on the periphery of the Christian 
concept of God; it is a fundamental trait.  The whole Bible is dialogue:  on 
the one side, revelation, God's words and deeds, and on the other side, man's 
response in accepting the word of God and allowing himself to be led by God.  
To delete prayer and dialogue, genuine two-way dialogue, is to delete the 
whole Bible. 
     We must insist, however, that the Bible in no way needs to be "rescued" 
from a mythical world view which supposedly encapsulates it; it does not need 
to be "helped" on the way towards its fuller development.  The reverse is 
the case:  Greek philosophy had come to the conclusion that it was impossible 
to pray to God, since the Eternal One, by being eternal, cannot enter into 
time relations.  This led to such an utter separation of philosophy and 
religion, of reason and piety, that it heralded the end of ancient religion.  
Later indeed it did try to rescue the old religions by acknowledging in them 
a demythologized meaning, in the way many theologians today try to 
demythologize dogma and sacrament.  We can see in this endeavor the last 
traces of nostalgia for the lost world of the religions--the attempt to save 
what has been lost, even if its original meaning can no longer be 
entertained.  This romantic reaction may have been able to slow down the 
decline of the gods, but it could not stop it.  It simply lacked truth. 
     In this process, which involved all the questions raised in the current 
debate, the Christian faith took up a unique position.  With regard to the 
concept of God, it held to the enlightened view of the philosophers:  the 
gods are illusory; they do not exist.  What Christians call "God" is what the 
philosophers call "being", "ground" or (also) "God".  They are not afraid to 
say that it is this God of the philosophers who is their God too.  What is 
unique about their position is that they attribute to the God of the 
philosophers the fundamental trait of the gods of the old religions, namely, 
the relationship with men, albeit now in an absolute form insofar as they 
call God the Creator.  This paradoxical conjunction constitutes the Christian 
synthesis, its outstanding novelty; it is the source of the basic difficulty 
and vulnerability of the Christian position in the history of religions:  
only "The Absolute" can be God, but this very Absolute has the attribute of 
being "relative", relationship, Creator and Revealer, or as later tradition 
would put it, "Person", someone who addresses the creature and to whom the 
creature can turn.  This synthesis also distinguishes the Christian faith 
from the "mythical" religions like those of Asia and connects it with Judaism 
and Islam, although Christianity exhibits a unique and distinct form in its 
belief in the Trinity.  Ultimately all questions come back to the enormous 
tension created by THIS synthesis; the modern situation has not really 
introduced anything radically new.  In the end, of course, whether this 
synthesis can be affirmed depends, not on philosophical considerations, but on 
whether one has been given the degree of spiritual tension which corresponds 
to the tensions of the Christian idea of God.[11] 
 
3.  Arguments against prayer 
 
     Consequently, in our efforts to work out the theological and 
anthropological basis of prayer, it is not a question of proving the validity 
of Christian prayer by the standards of some neutral reasonableness.  It is a 
case of uncovering the inner logic of faith itself, with its own distinct 
reasonableness.  Our first step, however, must be to ask briefly what are the 
substantial reasons which seem to militate against prayer's reasonableness.  
I observe three kinds, occurring naturally in countless variations and 
combinations. 
     a.  Firstly there is the general rejection of a metaphysical way of 
approach, corresponding to the main thrust of contemporary thought.  Karl 
Jaspers has clothed this rejection in a religious form in his philosophy; his 
explicit aim is to continue religion without metaphysics, or rather to see 
the farewell to metaphysics as a better way of legitimizing faith and 
spirituality.  From what we have said so far it should be clear that the 
results of this approach are in fact very different from what is envisaged by 
the Bible and the faith of the Church.  For Christian faith it is essential 
that it is addressing the God who really exists, the Creator of all things 
and the ground of all being, and that this God has spoken to us.  To reject 
metaphysics is to reject creation and hence the Christian concept of God 
itself.  Conversely, now as always, it is the belief in creation which is the 
strongest rational foundation for the Christian idea of God and its 
metaphysical implications, as is very clear from J. Monod's consistent line of 
thought.[12] 
     b.  Even if metaphysical questions are not rejected in principle, there 
is a second objection to a God of revelation.  This was already formulated in 
the philosophy of the ancients, but it has acquired far greater force in the 
modern scientific and technological world.  It can be put like this:  a 
rationally constructed world is determined by rationally perceived causality.  
To such a scheme the notion of personal intervention is both mythical and 
repugnant.  But if this approach is adopted, it must be followed 
consistently, for what applies to God applies equally to man.  If there is 
only ONE kind of causality, man too as a person is excluded and reduced to an 
element in mechanical causality, in the realm of necessity; freedom too, in 
this case, is a mythical idea.  In this sense it can be said that the 
personalities of God and of man cannot be separated.  If personality is not a 
possibility, i.e., not present, with the "ground" of reality, it is not 
possible at all.  Either freedom is a possibility inherent in the ground of 
reality, or it does not exist.  Thus the issue of prayer is intimately linked 
with those of freedom and personality:  the question of prayer decides 
whether the world is to be conceived as pure "chance and necessity" or 
whether freedom and love are constitutive elements of it. 
     c.  Finally, there is a real theological objection to a God who operates 
"ad extra" in creation and revelation.  Aristotle was the first to put it in 
its most pointed form; it has always been behind the scenes in Christian 
theology, and to this day it has probably not been fully dealt with.  
According to this objection, eternity by its very nature cannot enter into 
relationship with time, and similarly time cannot affect eternity.  Eternity 
implies immutability, the concentrated fullness of being, removed from the 
vicissitudes of time.  Time is essentially changeable and changing.  If it 
were to initiate anything new in eternity, eternity would have become time.  
And if eternity were to get involved with the changing stream of time, it 
would forfeit its nature as eternity.  Here we cannot go into the question of 
whether the concept of eternity employed in these undoubtedly logical trains 
of thought is adequate.  So far, the debate on that particular issue has not 
come up with any convincing results; it needs to be continued.  It will be 
essential to probe more deeply into the concept of "relation" if progress is 
to be made at this point; furthermore, instead of the negative "timelessness" 
of eternity, we need to work out a concept of the creativity which eternity 
exercises with regard to time.[13] 
     There is a further aspect, which brings us directly to the Christian 
answer.  I would like to put forward this thesis:  a non-trinitarian 
monotheism can hardly meet Aristotle's objection.  In the end it will simply 
have to leave eternity and time as isolated opposites.  But if they cannot 
communicate with one another, that is, if there cannot be a reciprocal 
influence between time and eternity, then eternity (if there is an eternity) 
can be of no significance to men.  For it has no power in the world, no 
influence on human life.  It is this feeling which caused the monotheism 
underlying ancient religion to die out in favor of the idea of the "Deus 
otiosus".  There is such a God, people thought, but he is separated from man 
by an unbridgeable chasm.  Since has has no power with regard to man, he 
cannot matter to him either.  This feeling is fundamental to the separation 
of philosophy and religion which we observed in ancient times.  Thus in a 
rational world, where faith is reduced to rational monotheism, the notion of 
God simply fades away:  it becomes irrelevant.  The Enlightenment dissolved 
the Christian mystery and left it with an ephemeral monotheism.  Deism is not 
a new creation of the Enlightenment:  it is merely the return of the "Deus 
Otiosus" of the mythical religions.  It either invokes the old gods or 
heralds the total rejection of the notion of God, or at least the rejection 
of a praying religion, and the transition to a religiously tinged 
"self-transcendence".  This, it seems to me, is the deepest cause of the 
crisis in theology which we have observed in men like Hertz and Hasenhuettl.  
Initially what happens is that people become uncertain about the 
christological and trinitarian mystery; its relationship to exegesis is felt 
to be problematical; it is regarded as a Hellenistic scheme projected into 
the universe of linear time, a necessary element of its age but now no longer 
intelligible.  But the retreat to a rationally presentable monotheism is 
always merely the first step.  Next comes the abandonment of the relational 
categories of creation and revelation.  Thus this God himself fades into the 
concept of "transcendence".  The possibility of prayer being "heard" 
dwindles, and faith becomes "self-transcendence". 
 
4.  Life with a religious flavor but without a God who hears 
 
     Before turning to the positive side we must investigate a little more 
closely what kind of religion is still possible under the presupposition of a 
God who cannot "relate".  In accord with those who follow Jaspers, we have 
termed such a possibility the religion of "self-transcendence".  History, 
however, allows us to be more precise.  In fact we can speak of two major 
basic possibilities. 
     a.  Aristotle ascribes significance to the prayer which fails to reach 
God in that it "fosters what is best in us".[14]  At bottom this is identical 
with what modern theologians mean by "self-transcendence".  Karl Barth would 
see it as that "religion" which is the very opposite of faith.  It is strange 
indeed:  whereas two decades ago, in the enthusiasm for Bonhoeffer, people 
pleaded for a religionless faith, now everything is reversed:  everything now 
tends toward the preservation of religion and a religious flavor to life, 
even though its original content, faith, is represented as untenable.  This 
pseudo-religiosity cannot be expected to last, however, all the more since 
its content is too unstable, following every wind of change because it is not 
oriented to truth, being merely a matter of "relation", addressing a 
something which does not reciprocate that relation.  It is trying to be a 
"relatio pura" which no longer contains anything that can be objectified.[15]  
But in reality this "pure relation" is spurious:  relation without 
reciprocity has no meaning. 
     b.  By contrast, the path of the Asiatic religions seems logically 
consistent and religiously profound:  they start from the ultimate identity 
of the "I", which is in reality not an "I", with the divine ground of the 
world.  Here prayer is the discovery of this identity, in which, behind the 
surface illusion, I find my own, serene identity with the ground of all 
being and thus am liberated from the false identity of the individualized 
"I".  Prayer is letting myself be absorbed into what I really am; it is the 
gradual disappearance of what, to the separate "I", seems to be the real 
world.  It is liberation in that one bids farewell to the empirical, 
experienced world with its chaos of illusion and enters the pure nothingness 
which is truly divine. 
     There can be no doubt that this is a path of impressive proportions; 
moreover, it appeals strongly to man's painful experience, which causes him 
to wish to abandon what seems to be the illusory surface of being.  Only a 
radical abandonment of being, in favor of nothingness, seems to offer hope of 
real freedom.  It is no accident, therefore, that the way of Asia presents 
itself as the way of salvation wherever the content of faith is relegated to 
the level of an untenable piece of Western metaphysics or mythology yet 
where there is still a deep spiritual and religious will.  I believe that as 
far as religion is concerned, the present age will have to decide ultimately 
between the Asiatic religious world view and the Christian faith.  I have no 
doubt that both sides have a great deal to learn from each other.  The issue 
may be which of the two can rescue more of the other's authentic content.  
But in spite of this possibility of mutual exchange, no one will dispute the 
fact that the two ways are different.  In a nutshell one could say that the 
goal of Asiatic contemplation is the escape from personality, whereas 
biblical prayer is essentially a relation between persons and hence 
ultimately the affirmation of the person. 
 
              II.  The Structure and Content of Christian Prayer 
 
     In Part Two our task is to develop the positive basis of Christian 
prayer.  As we have already said, it is not enough to approach it with 
external proofs; we must attempt, at least in outline, to reveal its 
intrinsic logic.[16] 
 
1.  The formal structure of Christian prayer 
 
     a.  The basic reason why man can speak with God arises from the fact 
that God himself is speech, word.  His nature is to speak, to hear, to reply, 
as we see particularly in Johannine theology, where Son and Spirit are 
described in terms of pure "hearing"; they speak in response to what they 
have first heard.  Only because there is already speech, "Logos", in God can 
there be speech, "Logis", to God.  Philosophically we could put it like this:  
the Logos in God is the onto-logical foundation for prayer.  The Prologue of 
John's Gospel speaks of this connection in its very first sentences:  "In the 
beginning was the Word, and the Word was in communication with God" (1:1)--as 
a more precise translation of the Greek "pros" suggests, rather than the 
usual "with God".  It expresses the act of turning to God, of relationship.  
Since there is relationship within God himself, there can also be a 
participation in this relationship.  Thus we can relate to God in a way which 
does not contradict his nature. 
     b.  In God, we have said, there is speech and the intercourse of 
partners in dialogue.  Man could speak with God if he himself were drawn to 
share in this internal speech.  And this is what the Incarnation of the Logos 
means:  he who is speech, Logos, in God and to God, participates in human 
speech.  This has a reciprocal effect, involving man in God's own internal 
speech.  Or we could say that man is able to participate in the dialogue 
within God himself because God has first shared in human speech and has thus 
brought the two into communication with one another.  The Incarnation of the 
Logos brings eternity into time and time into eternity.  It is not that God 
IS time, but that he HAS time.[17]  As a result of the Incarnation, human 
speech has become a component in divine speech; it has been taken up, 
unconfusedly and inseparably, into that speech which is God's inner nature. 
     c.  Through the Spirit of Christ, who is the Spirit of God, we can share 
in the human nature of Jesus Christ; and in sharing in his dialogue with God, 
we can share in the dialogue which God IS.  This is prayer, which becomes a 
real exchange between God and man. 
     d.  The locus of this identification with Christ, facilitated by the 
Spirit, which necessarily implies that those involved are also identified 
with one another in Christ, is what we call "Church".  We could in fact 
define "Church" as the realm of man's discovery of his identity through the 
identification with Christ which is its source. 
 
2.  The content of Christian prayer 
 
     A fundamental word in the mouth of "the Son" is "Abba".  It is no 
accident that we find this word characterizing the figure of Jesus in the New 
Testament.  It expresses his whole being, and all that he says to God in 
prayer is ultimately only an explication of his being (and hence an 
explication of this one word); the Our Father is this same "Abba" transposed 
into the plural for the benefit of those who are his. 
     Let us try to ascertain the content, the inner intentionality, of this 
basic act of prayer (which is the Son's act of being, as Son, and which thus 
is rooted in the ultimate ontological depths of reality).  First we can say 
that it is an act of consent.  Its basic tenor is affirmatory.  Essentially 
it means this:  I can affirm the world, being, myself, because I can affirm 
the ground of my being, for this ground is good.  It is good to BE.  Josef 
Pieper has interpreted the nature of the "feast", the festival (in general 
terms) as affirmation of the world:[18]  whenever I am able to say Yes, I can 
celebrate a feast; whenever I am able to say Yes, I am (to that extent) free, 
liberated.  Christian prayer holds the key to making the whole world a 
celebration, a feast, namely, affirmation.   Asiatic contemplation is not 
affirmation but liberation through the renunciation of being.  The marxist 
approach, too, is not affirmation but outrage, opposition to being because it 
is bad and so must be changed.  Prayer is an act of being; it is 
affirmation, albeit not affirmation of myself as I am and of the world as it 
is, but affirmation of the ground of being and hence a purifying of myself 
and of the world from this ground upward.  All purification (every "via 
negationis") is only possible on the rocklike basis of affirmation, of 
consent:  Jesus Christ is Yes (cf. 2 Cor 1:19f).  Conversely, in the 
purification which issues from this fundamental Yes we discover the active 
power of prayer, which (a) yields a deep security in the affirmation of 
being, as a foil to the hectic world of self-made man, yet which (b) is by no 
means a flight from the world but rather entrusts people with the task of 
purifying the world and empowers them to carry it out. 
     The next step is this:  we can only say Abba together with Christ; only 
in fellowship with him can we recognize the world's ground in a way which 
invites our Yes.  Apart from the Son, the Father remains ambivalent and 
strange; it is Jesus who turns the scales of the Old Testament and makes its 
message clear.  "Patrocentrism", i.e., the Abba, presupposes the 
christological character of prayer.[19]  It is the Son who guides us along 
the path of purification which leads to the door of the Yes.  So Christian 
prayer depends on our continually looking to Christ, talking with him, being 
silent with him, listening to him, doing and suffering with him. 
     Let us go a step further.  We cannot reach Christ through historical 
reconstruction.  It may be helpful, but it is not sufficient and, on its own, 
becomes mere necrophilia.  We encounter him as a living Person only in the 
foretaste of his presence which is called "Church".  At this point we begin 
to see how it may be possible to purify and accept the inheritance of Asia.  
The latter is correct in refusing to see individual identity as an 
encapsulated "I" over against a similarly encapsulated "Thou" of God, 
ignoring the existence of other "I"s which are themselves related 
individually and separately to this divine Thou.  Here we see the limitation 
of the kind of personalism which was developed between the Wars by Ebner, 
Buber, Rosenzweig, E. Brunner, Steinbuechel and others.  Here God is 
portrayed in a way which conflicts  with his nature as the ground of all 
being.  Partnership between God and man is conceived in I-Thou terms in a way 
which deprives God of his infinity and excludes each individual "I" from the 
unity of being.  By comparison with God, man's identity is not simply in 
himself but outside himself, which is why he can only attain it by 
"transcendence".  The Christian believer discovers his true identity in him 
who, as "the firstborn of all creation", holds all things together (Col 
1:15ff.), with the result that we can say that our life is hidden with him 
in God (Col 3:3).[20]  Through identification with Christ I discover my own 
entirely personal identity. 
     The Church as a whole presents the model of this kind of "identity".  
The Church is so identified with Christ that she can be called his "body".  
But this bodily unity is to be understood against the biblical concept of man 
and wife:  they are to become two in one flesh (Gen 2:24; Eph 5:30f.; cf. 1 
Cor 6:16f.).  It is a unity through the unifying power of love, which does 
not destroy the two-ness of I and Thou but welds it into a profound oneness.  
In finding my own identity by being identified with Christ, I am made one 
with him; my true self is restored to me, I know that I am accepted, and this 
enables me to give myself back to him.  On this basis the theology of the 
Middle Ages proposed that the aim of prayer (and the movement of being in 
which it consists) was that, through it, man should become an "anima 
ecclesiastica"--a personal embodiment of the Church.  This is both identity 
and purification, it is a surrendering of oneself and a being drawn into the 
innermost nature of what we mean by "Church".  In this process the language 
of our Mother becomes ours; we learn to speak it along with her, so that, 
gradually, her words on our lips become our words.  We are given an 
anticipatory share in the Church's perennial dialogue of love with him who 
desired to be one flesh with her, and this gift is transformed into the gift 
of speech.  And it is in the gift of speech, and not until then, that I am 
really restored to my true self; only thus am I given back to God, handed 
over by him to all my fellow men; only thus am I free. 
     At this point everything becomes very practical:  How can I learn to 
pray?  By praying in fellowship.  Prayer is always a praying WITH someone.  
No one can pray to God an an isolated individual and in his own strength.  
Isolation and the loss of a basic sense of fellowship in prayer constitute a 
major reason for the lack of prayer.  I learn to pray by praying with others, 
with my mother for instance, by following her words, which are gradually 
filled out with meaning for me as I speak, live and suffer in fellowship with 
her.  Naturally I must be always asking what these words mean.  Naturally, 
too, I must continually "cash" these words into the small change of daily 
life.  And having done so, I must try to repossess them in exchange for my 
small coin, little by little, as I draw nearer the fullness of the mystery 
and become more capable of speaking of it.  And that is precisely why it is 
impossible to start a conversation with Christ alone, cutting out the Church:  
a christological form of prayer which excludes the Church also excludes the 
Spirit and the human being himself.  I need to feel my way into these words 
in everything I do, in prayer, life, suffering, in my thoughts.  And this 
very process transforms me.  But I must not try to dispense with the example 
of the words, for they are alive, a growing organism, words which are lived 
and prayed by countless people. 
     Of course, this applies to all the various modes of prayer:  repetition, 
silence, speech, singing and so on.  All the dimensions of the human psyche  
are involved; we must never make the rational understanding the only 
criterion.  How could reason grow and develop if it regarded its own 
premature limitations as normative![21] 
 
3.  Answers to prayer 
 
     Christian prayer is addressed to a God who hears and answers.  But in 
what way?  What can the witness of the New Testament and the tradition of 
faith tell us? 
     a.  First let us examine what is meant to answers to prayer.[22]  Luke 
transmits one of the Lord's words which puts it very precisely:  "If you 
then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much 
more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him?" (Lk 
11:13)  What we are to ask of God is the gift of the pneuma, his Spirit.  God 
gives himself.  We are to ask no less than this.  We find the same thing put 
in different terms in Jesus' farewell discourses in John.  Here the gift of 
God promised unconditionally to those who ask is joy, that "full" joy which 
is the expression and the presence of a love which has become "full" (Jn 
16:24).  The reality is the same in each case.  Prayer, because of the 
transformation of being which it involves, means growing more and more into 
identity with the pneuma of Jesus, the Spirit of God (becoming an "anima 
ecclesiastica"); borne along by the very breath of his love, we have a joy 
which cannot be taken from us. 
     b.  But how are we to conceive of God answering prayer?  Put in the 
briefest possible form, we can say something like this:  in Jesus, god 
participates in time.  Through this participation he operates in time in the 
form of love.  His love purifies men; through purification (and not 
otherwise) men are identified and united with him.  Or we could say this:  as 
a result of God's participation in time in Jesus, love becomes the causality 
operating in the world to transform it; in any place, at any time, it can 
exercise its influence.  As a cause, love does not vitiate the world's 
mechanical causality but uses and adopts it.  Love is the power which  God 
exercises in the world.  To pray is to put oneself on the side of this 
love-causality, this causality of freedom, in opposition to the power of 
necessity.  As Christians, as those who pray, this is our very highest 
task. 

Footnotes to Chapter 1 
 
     [1]  Published as N. Lobkowicz and A. Hertz, AM ENDE ALLER RELIGION?  
EIN STREITGESPRAECH (Zurich 1976). 
     [2]  Ibid., 21. 
     [3]  Ibid. 
     [4]  Ibid. 
     [5]  Ibid., 26. 
     [6]  Ibid., 27.  Characteristic is the following:  "Not only has God 
many names; there is also a wealth of possibilities of communication with 
him.  Perhaps this is something we have yet to learn if we are to realize 
that, in spite of the decline of the traditional religions, we are nearer to 
God than we think." 
     [7]  Ibid., 34. 
     [8]  Ibid., 17.  It must be mentioned here that, at the conclusion of 
the debate, Hertz seems to make large concessions to Lobkowicz, most 
noticeably when he says:  "I do believe that this God whom Jesus proclaimed, 
who bears good will to all men, can be our partner in prayer when we speak to 
him of our joys, sorrows and anxieties.  This is no mythical God but the God 
who reveals himself in Jesus Christ. . . ."  However, this does not square 
with the overall impression he gives, where the received Christian faith is 
completely absorbed into the general history of religion, causing Lobkowicz 
rightly to comment on Hertz's initial explanations:  "In the same breath you 
speak of the Christian faith in God, the Greek oracles and the Etruscan 
divination practice of inspecting entrails" (61).  Even in the conciliatory 
conclusion, however, the personal God disappears into the mist--and 
throughout the discussion he had never achieved the status of a God who 
acts--when Hertz says:  "Is it not enough to believe that in and through 
Jesus Christ the 'Kingdom of God' has come to us and that we men are called 
to collaborate in bringing about this kingdom of peace and love?  God wills 
the salvation of all men, and in his kindness he will bring to a happy 
conclusion the good he has begun in us" (84).  In plain language this means 
that it is up to us to work for a better future; God is allotted a modest 
place in it insofar as he will eventually take a hand too. 
     [9]  G. Hasenhuettl, EINFUEHRUNG IN DIE GOTTESLEHRE (Darmstadt 1980), 
242f.  For a systematic presentation of the underlying rationale, cf. G. 
Hasenhuettl, KRITISCHE DOGMATIK (Graz 1979).  A central axiom of the 
GOTTESLEHRE:  "God is a predicate of man, says something about man in the 
area of relational communication" (132).  For a detailed analysis of 
Hasenhuettl's position, cf. F. Courth, "Nur ein anderer Weg der Dogmatik?  Zu 
G. Hasenhuettls kritischer Dogmatik" in TThZ 89 (1980):  293-317.  Cf. also 
the reviews of P. Huenermann, in Theol. Revue 76 (1980):  212-25 (with a 
response from Hasenhuettl, 409f.); W. Beinert in Theol. prakt. Quartalschr. 
128 (1980):  304; W. Loeser, in Theol. Phil. 55 (1980):  616f. 
     [10]  Thus it is one of Hertz's false alternatives (op. cit. 26f.) when 
he gives the impression that one must either maintain an unbridgeable gulf 
between transcendence and immanence or consign both of them to a philosophy 
of "transcendence".  In fact, as we can see clearly in the case of Jaspers, 
"transcendence" thus becomes totally inaccessible, whereas an understanding 
of God which includes creation and revelation involves the reciprocal 
relationship and union of "immanence" and "transcendence". 
     [11]  In connection with these remarks on the ancient world's notion of 
God, cf. my own VOLK UND HAUS GOTTES IN AUGUSTINS LEHRE VON DER 
KIRCHE 
(Munich 1954); also in brief my INTRODUCTION TO CHRISTIANITY (London 1969, 
New York 1979), 94-104. 
     [12]  J. Monod, ZUFALL UND NOTWENDIGKEIT.  PHILOSOPHISCHE FRAGEN 
DER 
MODERNEN BIOLOGIE (Munich 1971).  In its consistent thought this book seems 
to me to be one of the most important works contributing to a deeper dialogue 
between science and theology.  It carefully presents the current state of 
scientific knowledge and conscientiously uncovers the philosophical 
presuppositions and, in doing so, gets beyond the usual blurring of issues.  
Cf. the foolish and wrongheaded approach of A. Dumas and O. H. Pesch on 
"creation", in J. Feiner and L. Vischer, NEUES GLAUBENSBUCH (Freiburg 1973), 
430-39.  Here they say that "concepts like selection and mutation are 
intellectually more honest than that of creation" (433).  "Creation is thus 
an unreal concept" (435).  "Creation refers to man's vocation" (435).  
Corresponding to this reinterpretation of the concept of creation, the 
teaching on faith lacks any element of belief in creation; the pages referred 
to come from the chapter on "History and Cosmos", included in the area of 
ethics (part 4, Faith and the World).  From a historical point of view this 
deletion of faith in creation is gnostic, strictly speaking; cf. J. 
Ratzinger, KONSEQUENZEN DES SCHOEPFUNGSGLAUBENS (Salzburg 1980).  Cf. 
also 
the thorough treatment of the doctrine of creation in J. Auer, DIE 
WELT--GOTTES SCHOEPFUNG (Regensburg 1975). 
     [13]  For a presentation of the problem (albeit not very convincing when 
it comes to a solution), cf. M. Maas, UNVERAENDERLICHKEIT GOTTES (Paderborn 
1974).  There are important clues toward a new approach in H. U. von 
Balthasar, THEOLOGIE DER GESCHICHE (new ed. Einsiedeln 1959); id., DAS 
GANZE 
IM FRAGMENT (Einsiedeln 1963); valuable remarks on a correct understanding of 
eternity in E. Brunner, DOGMATIK I (Zurich 1953), 282-88.  Cf. the book 
referred to in note 16 below. 
     [14]  Cf. the section in this book "On the Theological Basis of Church 
Music", note 29. 
     [15]  As Hasenhuettl expressly says; cf. the passages mentioned by 
Courth, op. cit. (note 9 above), 299f. 
     [16]  In a publication of this kind I need not given an exhaustive list 
of available literature on the philosophy and theology of prayer.  As an 
example there is the penetrating book by H. Schaller, DAS BITTGEBET.  EINE 
THEOLOGISCHE SKIZZE (Einsiedeln 1979). 
     [17]  Cf. H. U. von Balthasar, THEOLOGIE DER GESCHICHTE, 31-39. 
     [18]  J. Pieper, ZUSTIMMUNG ZUR WELT.  EINE THEORIE DES FESTES (Munich 
1963). 
     [19]  Thus we can oppose Harnack's well-known verdict in DAS WESEN DES 
CHRISTENTUMS that "the Father alone, not the Son, belongs to the gospel which 
Jesus preached".  Harnack is blind to the indirect Christology of Jesus' 
words, deeds and prayers. 
     [20]  Cf. on identity and identification, J. Ratzinger and K. Lehmann, 
MIT DER KIRCHE LEBEN (Freiburg 1977). 
     [21]  Cf. the sections "On the Theological Basis of Church Music" and 
"One the Structure of the Liturgical Celebration" in this volume. 
     [22]  Cf. J. Ratzinger, DOGMA UND VERKUENDIGUNG (Munich 1973), 119-32; 
H. Schaller, op. cit. (note 16 above), 167-90. 
 
(C)1986 Ignatius Press, All Rights Reserved, Used with permission
 
To order a copy, send $8.95 + $2.00 P/H to Ignatius Press, 15 Oakland
Avenue, Harrison, NY 10528 or contact Ignatius Press in the CRNET
Marketplace.
 
Courtesy of Catholic Resource Network, 1-703-791-4336
Provided by Catholic Information Network BBS (CIN), San Diego, 619-287-5828