Pope Francis has released a new encyclical “Dilexit Nos” (He Loved Us) about the Sacred Heart of Jesus. The fourth encyclical of his pontificate, it follows “Lumen Fidei,” co-written with Pope Benedict XVI, “Laudato Si’” and “Fratelli Tutti.” Here, four of our editors share their first impressions of the pope’s latest encyclical—our take from the heart, if you will. You can read all of “Dilexit Nos” here.
1. The heart is the core of the human person; the world has lost its heart
It sounds almost too obvious, perhaps even simple, but Pope Francis thinks we need to hear it: We are in a period of human civilization where we are, at best, in serious threat of losing our heart, or have already lost it and desperately need to recover it.
The heart reveals “who we truly are” (No. 6), Pope Francis writes, for it is “the dwelling-place of love in all its spiritual, psychic and even physical dimensions” (No. 21), “a core that lies hidden beneath all outward appearances, even beneath the superficial thoughts that can lead us astray” (No. 4).
Our most profound existential questions—“Who am I, really? What am I looking for? What direction do I want to give to my life, my decisions, and my actions? Why and for what purpose am I in this world? … Who do I want to be for others? Who am I for God?”—can be answered by a single, and more fundamental, inquiry: “Do I have a heart?” (No. 23). These questions that deeply occupy us and enable us to make sense of our existence are pondered and kept in the heart, much like Mary who, St. Luke tells us, treasured and pondered on all things in her heart. (No. 19; refer to Lk 2:19 and 51).
[Pope Francis’ new encyclical is a window in to his own love for the Sacred Heart of Jesus]
Not only is the heart the seat of “deep emotion” (No. 16), where we discover who we are, but it is also the place where love is born: God’s unconditional love for us, and from which our capacity to love others flows. In our heart, we uncover the “raging fire” of this capacity, enabling us to “become, in a complete and luminous way, the persons we are meant to be, for every human being is created above all else for love. In the deepest fiber of our being, we were made to love and to be loved” (No. 21).
And it is, ultimately, in this discovery of God’s love for us, at the depth and unity of our being, that we learn to love others, which is the essence of what it means to be followers of Christ. “The knowledge that Christ died for us does not remain knowledge; but necessarily becomes affection, love” (No. 27). And, the pope is convinced, this is the heart we need to recover if we are to heal our own heart. “Christ’s love can give a heart to our world and revive love wherever we think that the ability to love has been definitively lost.” (No. 218)
—Ricardo da Silva, S.J.
2. The importance of affection, not just intellect
In the opening section of the encyclical, Francis contrasts the complex richness of the heart with “the more readily controllable domain of intelligence and will.” While many may retreat to seemingly safer spaces, Francis says this results “in a stunting of the idea of a personal center, in which love, in the end, is the one reality that can unify all the others” (No. 10).
Francis is continuing his critique of an overly rationalistic or technocratic mindset, which has been a hallmark of his papacy. He also warns that our thoughts and will, as distinct from our hearts, are “easily predictable and thus capable of being manipulated,” including by digital algorithms feeding us tailored information (No. 14).
To correct an overreliance on conceptual clarity that can appear to deliver truth while not resulting in profound conversion, or even turn into a “self-reliant moralism” (No. 27), Francis references St. Ignatius of Loyola’s attention to “affection,” saying that reform of life “is not about intellectual concepts that need to be put into practice in our daily lives, as if affectivity and practice were merely the effects of—and dependent upon—the data of knowledge” (No. 24).
Chapter 2 of the encyclical reads almost as a mini-retreat, in Ignatian style, aimed at the conversion and ordering of affectivity. (This also echoes Francis’ approach, in Fratelli Tutti, of using an extended reflection on the parable of the Good Samaritan as an organizing principle for an encyclical.) Citing 38 biblical passages in the 16 paragraphs of the chapter, Francis invites us to experience the desire and care of Jesus’ heart, asking in reference to Jesus’ encounter with the rich young man in Mk 10:21, “Can you imagine that moment, that encounter between his eyes and those of Jesus?” (No. 39).
—Sam Sawyer, S.J.
3. The church needs to deepen love even more than it needs to reform structures
From the beginning of his papacy, Francis has strongly cautioned against the church’s tendency to turn its gaze in on itself or to become absorbed in what he calls “spiritual worldliness.” In “Dilexit Nos,” he continues that theme, saying that “the heart of Christ also frees us from another kind of dualism found in communities and pastors excessively caught up in external activities, structural reforms that have little to do with the Gospel, obsessive reorganization plans, worldly projects, secular ways of thinking and mandatory programmes” (No. 88).
Coming in an encyclical issued during the second session of the Synod on Synodality, in which many topics associated with structural and organizational change were shifted to study groups, this criticism is striking. Francis’ hope is that by reflecting on the heart of Christ, which he calls “the incarnate synthesis of the Gospel,” the church will be moved not only by critical analysis of theological and social issues, but much more by a powerful affective love for Christ (No. 90).
Francis seems to be pleading with those who get caught up in their own plans and visions for the church, whether through rigorous adherence to current structures or radical reform of them, to reorient themselves to the need for a revived love. In the conclusion of the encyclical, he says that instead of “outdated structures and concerns, excessive attachment to our own ideas and opinions, and fanaticism in any number of forms,” the church needs “the gratuitous love of God that liberates, enlivens, brings joy to the heart and builds communities” (No. 219).
—Sam Sawyer, S.J.
4. The importance of popular piety
Throughout the document, Pope Francis expresses his awareness that the Sacred Heart and related devotional images can easily be dismissed as kitschy, but he cautions against dismissing the devotion as a whole. “Certain of these representations may indeed strike us as tasteless and not particularly conducive to affection or prayer,” Francis writes, “Yet this is of little importance, since they are only invitations to prayer” (No. 57).
He takes this a step farther, criticizing—as he often has—people who dismiss such expressions of popular piety as being overly emotional or lacking depth. He writes, “Pius XII described as ‘false mysticism’ the elitist attitude of those groups that saw God as so sublime, separate and distant that they regarded affective expressions of popular piety as dangerous and in need of ecclesiastical oversight” (No. 86).
Speaking about the pious tradition of Catholics seeking to console Jesus in his suffering, the pope personally asks “that no one make light of the fervent devotion of the holy faithful people of God,” adding, “I also encourage everyone to consider whether there might be greater reasonableness, truth and wisdom in certain demonstrations of love that seek to console the Lord than in the cold, distant, calculated and nominal acts of love that are at times practiced by those who claim to possess a more reflective, sophisticated and mature faith” (No. 160).
—Colleen Dulle
5. The Sacred Heart calls us to reparation in ‘actions and words of love’ not weeping in self-pity.
One part of devotion to the Sacred Heart involves making “reparations” to the heart of Jesus for our own sins and the sins of the world, which brought and continue to bring him sorrow. However, an exaggerated focus on reparation can raise concerns about doubting the sufficiency of Christ’s redemption, but Francis believes that the devotional impulse to console the heart of Jesus is a pure one. “It might appear to some that this aspect of devotion to the Sacred Heart lacks a firm theological basis, yet the heart has its reasons. Here the sensus fidelium perceives something mysterious, beyond our human logic, and realizes that the passion of Christ is not merely an event of the past, but one in which we can share through faith,” (No. 154).
That said, Francis does encourage a proper framing of reparations. He marshalls St. Thérèse of Lisieux to provide a historical and spiritual context. “Therese was aware that in certain quarters an extreme form of reparation had developed, based on a willingness to offer oneself in sacrifice for others, and to become in some sense a “lightning rod” for the chastisements of divine justice,” (No. 195). Both Thérèse and Pope Francis have a dim view of this form of devotion. “So great an emphasis on God’s justice might eventually lead to the notion that Christ’s sacrifice was somehow incomplete or only partly efficacious, or that his mercy was not sufficiently powerful” (No. 195).
Only Jesus saves and redeems the world. However, Pope Francis is proposing a framing of reparations that views it as a “freely accepted participation in his redeeming love.” How do we do that? By loving our neighbor.
“Would it please the heart that so loved us, if we were to bask in a private religious experience while ignoring its implications for the society in which we live?” (No. 205). Francis concludes it would not. We are called to reconcile with friends and family and strangers who we have wronged and who have wronged us. We are called to build societies of justice, peace and fraternity. But this action is fundamentally animated by an intense love, and is also connected, according to Pope Francis, both to evangelization, his focus in “Evangelii Gaudium” and to his social encyclicals “Laudato Si’” and “Fratelli Tutti” (No. 217). “As we contemplate the Sacred Heart, mission becomes a matter of love. For the greatest danger in mission is that, amid all the things we say and do, we fail to bring about a joyful encounter with the love of Christ who embraces us and saves us” (No. 208).
In summary, compunction for our sins piercing the Sacred Heart of Christ should lead us to sorrow, but a sorrow that moves us not to self-pity or perfectionism, but to greater love for God and for our neighbor.
—Zac Davis
