Magazine
MODERNITY AND FAITH •
A world in which God is irrelevant
In the dramatic solitude of the secularised West, we have deluded ourselves into thinking we can do without it. But the finiteness of life always raises the question of meaning, from which it is impossible to escape. A conversation with Cardinal Robert Sarah

Cardinal Robert Sarah
On the cover of his latest book published in France, beneath the title 2050, there is a question: “In twenty-five years’ time, will the Church still be a beacon, or the distant echo of a forgotten voice?”. This is the question posed by Cardinal Robert Sarah – a dramatic one that ought to keep bishops across the globe awake at night, rather than the meetings and discussions at synod tables on drug trafficking and juvenile delinquency. Yet it seems the subject is taboo: we carry on as if nothing were amiss, studying diocesan plans and preparing campaigns to reach out to those who have strayed. Usually with poor results. “The question on the cover is precisely that – a question, not a statement, nor a wish,” says Sarah in this conversation with Il Foglio: “Certainly the Church, at least in the West, is going through a time of great difficulty, even confusion, both at the doctrinal level and at the moral and disciplinary levels. The interplay between culture and faith is never irrelevant; indeed, it often has a decisive influence on the transmission of the faith. I think there is no doubt that we can no longer entrust the transmission of the faith to culture alone; rather, it can be passed on to the younger generations solely through meaningful experiences and testimonies that place at the centre prayer, silence, a well-celebrated liturgy, a fundamental fidelity to the Gospel—and thus a renewed humanity—and a more humane way of living out relationships. These are the communities to which Benedict XVI referred, and of which we are already seeing the dawn break. Over the centuries, the Church has weathered many storms, but we must never forget that she is divine, and therefore will never fail. Yes, the Church will always be a beacon, for she is the Mystical Body of Christ, and Christ is the Light.”
And yet, as the book clearly states, the dominant discourse has focused exclusively on other issues: from climate change to ecology, from migration to cultural dialogue. These are topics on which there is no a priori criticism: the cardinal himself describes them as important. The problem, as the book emphasises, arises when such issues push God’s centrality into the background. But why has this happened? Why do we hear more and more talk in homilies of the climate emergency rather than the profound themes of our faith? “On the one hand, as I was saying, the dominant culture has permeated even ecclesiastical circles, and even preachers are not immune to this influence. On the other hand, there may be a temptation to seek at all costs to be well-liked and acceptable to the congregation, and thus to give in to those topics that are more fashionable and therefore more popular. The consequence is a trite, utterly irrelevant form of preaching that fails to address the profound longings of the human heart. Human beings—even contemporary people—have an absolute need for God, to hear about the Gospel, eternal life and spirituality. It is never permissible to reduce the Gospel to social and worldly issues, however relevant they may be, because this is a failure to fulfil the very will of Christ, who sent us to preach eternal salvation, not social redemption.”
What Cardinal Sarah has been saying for some time now is evident in the West and – narrowing the scope even further – in Europe. When speaking with a bishop or priest from the Old Continent, from the countries at its heart, one senses that the problem is no longer atheism, which at least presupposed a debate – more or less in-depth – on the existence of God. No, the issue has become something else: God is not a fact. The question of his presence in people’s individual lives and in society no longer arises. According to Cardinal Sarah, who in 2024 published "Does God Exist?" (Cantagalli), “it can be acknowledged that in the West, culturally speaking, many people live as if God did not exist. God is no longer at the centre of people’s concerns; we do not need him. The subject of God has become irrelevant, even though the subject of religion itself has not, because human beings are naturally religious, and the human sense of religion is part of the anthropological structure of humankind and therefore has universal relevance. It is likely that a distorted idea of God prevails in the West, one that conflicts with freedom understood as radical autonomy. The illusion of dominion through technoscience fosters this attitude of humankind towards creation and the Creator. But it is an illusion, for the finitude of life always raises the question of meaning, from which it is impossible to escape. We must have the courage to forcefully present Christ as the sole source for truly understanding humankind, its destiny and its profound meaning. This can also be achieved through communal experiences of faith, which make people feel they belong to a greater reality, thereby overcoming the profound loneliness of the secularised West. The question remains, as it always has, an anthropological one: who is man, what is the meaning of his life, and what relationships truly satisfy his profound need for love? That love which is God himself.”
The vitality of the Church in Africa is often contrasted with the lethargy of secularised Europe – even though there are bright spots, such as Norway under Bishop Erik Varden, or the record number of baptisms in France. Is there not, however, a risk of emphasising this great expression of African faith without taking into account the risks of a ‘young’ faith, as Benedict XVI highlighted many years ago? Pope Ratzinger spoke of Africa as an ‘immense spiritual lung’ but added that lungs can fall ill. “Certainly,” replies Cardinal Robert Sarah, a Guinean, “Africa is a spiritual lung; moreover, as Pope Paul VI said: nova patria Christi, the new homeland of Christ is Africa. This can be said, of course, both in demographic terms and because Christianity is constantly expanding. But, like all young realities, it is fragile and needs support; and Europe, with its long theological, liturgical and monastic experience – in its finest cultural, faith-based and centuries-old expression – can still offer this support. Sometimes African priests who come to study in Europe fail to grasp the full grandeur and strength of the two-thousand-year-old Christian faith, because Europe, too, is fragile, distracted and unable to convey its own profound identity. I believe there can be a reciprocal relationship between Africa and Europe: Africa, with its contribution of a young, fresh, enthusiastic faith, wide open to martyrdom; and Europe, with its two-thousand-year-old strength of holiness and doctrine. A difficult balance, but not an impossible one.”
And when we talk about Africa, we cannot fail to mention the persecution of Christians, even though the issue does not particularly concern those who organise the running orders for television debates in our part of the world. Pope Francis said that the persecuted were “more numerous now than in the early centuries of the Church”. Often, however, there is a tendency to claim that there is no persecution, but that these are merely conflicts over control of natural resources. And, looking eastwards, the situation in China is by no means any better. “The tragedy of persecution is not incidental to Christianity, but is part of the very essence of Christian identity. Christ himself was persecuted and died on the cross for us; we could therefore say that the structure of martyrdom is essential to Christianity; there is no Christianity without martyrdom. If, in some parts of the world, for a certain period of time, persecution is not experienced, the risk is that the faith will become lukewarm, nonchalant, incapable of genuine witness. That said, it is quite evident that news coverage is selective: particularly where persecution occurs in developing countries, the value of those lives is not taken into account at all, and the Western media often ignore the phenomenon entirely. I believe that Europe is terribly afraid to acknowledge that anti-Christian – and, more generally, anti-religious – persecution is taking place. Yet persecution is crueller in Europe. Faith is marginalised; moral and Christian values are under attack. The West has killed God – or rather, has despised Him, indeed openly fought against Him. Admitting this would mean taking consistent action, something which Europe probably lacks the strength to do. Yet Christians must be protected, especially where they are a minority, just like all minorities. The situation in China is highly complex, and one must hope that the secret agreement is intended solely to facilitate evangelisation, and not to compromise with a government that is, in fact, fundamentally anti-religious.”
The agreement with China is one of the defining moments of Pope Francis’s pontificate which, however one views and assesses it, has been divisive, even within ‘secular’ debate. In the general congregations that preceded the Conclave, the search for unity was evident. How can we assist, in this endeavour, a Pope like Leo, who has made unity his motto and his style of governance? “The first way to help the Pope is to support him daily through our prayers, so that he may truly allow himself to be enlightened by the Holy Spirit – not by following his own personal thoughts or allowing himself to be influenced by a group of people, but by listening to what God says to his Church. Certainly, Pope Leo, in this first year of his pontificate, has shown great balance, a great capacity for listening, and a genuine willingness to heal even those tensions that had arisen. His prudence, his calm demeanour and his human warmth give us confidence that we can truly move in this direction. We can also assist him in his discernment by presenting to him the various situations facing the Church and the world, offering possible avenues for resolution, but above all by providing him with as much information as possible so that he may make a careful assessment and take the necessary decisions. I am convinced that the Holy Father Leo knows full well what the goal is, and is seeking, with the help of the Cardinals, the most viable paths to reach it. Let us give thanks to the Lord for the gift of Pope Leo.”
Talking about unity when considering liturgical matters seems complicated. It is a divisive issue, with two opposing sides. On the one hand, there are those who claim the use of the vetus ordo as though it were a victory; on the other, an ideological camp that almost regards these Catholics as a ‘sect’ to be eradicated. The Pope has said he wishes to understand the situation fully, to engage in dialogue and to speak with everyone. According to Cardinal Robert Sarah, “it is a tragedy, indeed a veritable sin, that on a matter as essential as the liturgy there should be a sort of war. The liturgy is the source of the Church’s communion, and it is unthinkable that on liturgical matters – indeed, I would say ritual matters – there should be such a clash and such fierce opposition. No one has authority over the rites, which stem from the Church’s centuries-old history. Rites cannot be arbitrarily abolished, and no one can declare that a rite no longer exists from one day to the next. I believe we must give serious consideration to this issue, returning to the balanced, pastoral and theologically grounded position of Benedict XVI, who allowed both forms of the Latin rite to coexist, to influence one another, and to be known by the holy people of God, who, over the decades, will be able to choose which form best corresponds to their own need for faith, silence and spirituality. Certain excesses on the part of those attached to the extraordinary form are, in part, justified by the dramatic and widespread abuses of the ordinary form of the liturgy, which, to this day, is often not celebrated as the Council would have wished and as the liturgical reform itself suggests. The liturgy is not the property of the celebrant, whoever they may be—priest, bishop or cardinal. The liturgy belongs to God; we enter into it, and no one is its master.” Perhaps, however, the problem runs even deeper. Let us consider the quality of homilies, which are often poorly prepared and rarely capable of leaving a lasting impression on the hearts and minds of the faithful. Not to mention the celebrations themselves, where references to the transcendent are frequently reduced to mere asides. What is to be done? “I have already answered this in part. The key is liturgical formation – formation, and yet more formation. For bishops, priests and laypeople alike. The restoration of a sense of the sacred, in a secularised society that has cast God out, can only take place through the proclamation of the truth, through steadfast and constant catechesis, and through concrete experiences of silence and spirituality within the liturgical celebration. The respect due to God and personal humility are fundamental elements in restoring a sense of the sacred and fidelity to the celebration as the Church intends it. After all, no one would presume to enter the Sistine Chapel and alter Michelangelo’s Last Judgement. Now, the Missal is far more important, far older and far more binding than Michelangelo’s Last Judgement; therefore, no one may correct, remove, add or alter anything in the rite as the Church presents it to the faithful. And the faithful have the sacrosanct right to participate in Holy Masses celebrated as the Church intends, and not according to the arbitrary will or whim of an individual priest.”
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Friulsardo, è nato nel 1986. Laureato in politica internazionale e diplomazia a Padova con tesi su turchi e americani, è stato arbitro di calcio. Al Foglio dal 2011, si occupa di Chiesa, Papi, religioni e libri. Scrittore prediletto: Joseph Roth (ma va bene qualunque cosa relativa alla finis Austriae). È caporedattore dal 2020.
