After a little siesta, a midday nap, we drove up to Pentling to visit first of all the grave of our parents at the cemetery in Ziegetsdorf. The Bishop and his secretary came along, too. In Pentling, a whole crowd of people had gathered, among them Herr and Frau Hofbauer, who take perfect care of our house there—they are very fine people. Finally, in our house we ate supper. My brother also lay down for a short time before we drove back to the major seminary, because he was really very tired and had a headache. He enjoyed that day very much, and it was almost like it always was. He loves the little house in Pentling very much; he really feels at home there, for even the most beautiful palace does not have what a one-family house like that has. Of course this visit to his homeland was primarily a pastoral journey, but for him it was also a farewell to his old life.
Benedict XVI thanks Frau Agnes Heindl, his brother’s housekeeper, for the good meal
Since then he calls me several times a week; I never call him. After all, it is much simpler to reach me by telephone: I am almost always at home and have no daily routine to follow. He, on the other hand, almost always has deadlines or something to do, and so I would never dare to disturb him. So he calls me whenever he has time, and I wait for his call.
I visit him several times a year. Naturally I travel to Rome for Christmas, but not until December 28, when the church celebrations of Christmas are over, and then I stay until January 10. So we spend the feast of the Epiphany together, which in Italy is celebrated even more than in Germany; there, unlike at home, it is the time for exchanging gifts. I visit him the second time in the spring, sometime between April and June. In 2009, for instance, I was in Rome on Pentecost, when the Cologne Chamber Orchestra had the privilege of performing Haydn’s Harmony Mass at the special liturgy on Pentecost Sunday in Saint Peter’s Basilica. At the time, the conductor invited me, and of course I did not want to miss it. Then I always spend August or at least the better part of the month with my brother at his summer residence in Castel Gandolfo. And, finally, I am often in Rome again in October or November, when some major musical performance takes place to which I am invited. That was the case, for example, in October 2007, when the Symphony Orchestra and Choir of Bavarian Radio with chief conductor Mariss Jansons performed Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony in the Paul VI Audience Hall.
I had spoken beforehand by telephone a few times with Herr Jansons, because my brother had requested that the motet “Tu es Petrus” by (the Renaissance composer Giovanni Pierluigi da) Palestrina (ca. 1525-1594) be sung, too. At first he did not want to do it, although he is a great conductor. Why, I do not know. He wanted to perform instead the “Ave verum” by Mozart, but any children’s choir can sing that: we did not need the Radio Symphony Orchestra and Choir for that. In any case, he finally gave in, and it was a wonderful performance. Several former Domspatzen belong to the Radio Choir as well as to the orchestra, and in that way I met them again, which gave me great joy.
When I visit my brother, we talk about all sorts of topics: about the past, about the problems in today’s world, about personal things, about health, and naturally about the weather occasionally, too.
How do you address him then?
I call him Joseph, of course; anything else would be abnormal!
Does he suffer intensely from the many attacks from the media also?
He is personally very sensitive, but he also knows from which corner these attacks come and the reason for them, what is usually behind them. That way he overcomes it more easily, he rises above it more simply. It is nevertheless true, too, that he most often meets with a lot of sympathy, again and again and wherever he goes.
Can you reveal to us his greatest wish?
Well, I really cannot mention one single specific wish. He simply hopes that he succeeds in completing his task as well as possible, that from the human side he can contribute his part to what the Holy Spirit is working from above.
In your view, what are the focal points of his pontificate?
The focal points result from particular situations to which he reacts, and therefore they are more reactive than active. But he is of course very concerned that the liturgy should be celebrated worthily and that it be celebrated correctly. Indeed, that is a genuine problem. Our diocesan music director recently said that it is by no means easy nowadays to find a church where the pastor celebrates his Mass according to the regulations of the Church. There are so many priests who think they have to add something here and change something there. So my brother wants an orderly, good liturgy that moves people interiorly and is understood as a call from God.
Do you see continuity between the pontificates of John Paul II and Benedict XVI, or is your brother focusing on different matters?
You cannot say that, because to a great extent pontificates are not defined by the will of the pope but, rather, are reactions and responses to the events of their time. Of course, the events of our time manifest a certain degree of continuity; there are no major leaps or breaks but, rather, problems that develop continuously over the decades.
No doubt, John Paul II took his inspiration from my brother in many areas and, of course, was in ongoing contact with him; he set great store by his judgment. In that regard, then, there is a certain similarity, and the two pontificates do not differ in essential points.
What does the Pope’s normal daily routine look like?
Now, I do not know what all is supposed to be confidential, but I think I can speak about this. Early in the morning around 7:00, he celebrates Holy Mass in his private chapel, and afterward he makes a short meditation and, finally, prays the Breviary until breakfast at around 8:00. Until then, we are together, when I happen to be visiting him; then we say goodbye at that point in time, and each goes to his apartment.
Then he prepares for the events of the day, for instance, for the visitors he will receive in a personal audience: Who are they and what is their concern or the request they come to make? That, of course, requires a thorough preparation and an equally careful follow-up.
On Tuesdays, there is also the preparation for the large audience on Wednesday morning. For example, he has to practice the pronunciation of the foreign languages in which he will greet the pilgrims and the pilgrimage groups—of course, he does not speak them all fluently. For this purpose, he listens to the correct pronunciation on a tape and then practices it, so as to avoid making big mistakes and to be understood correctly.
At 1:15 P.M. on weekdays, the midday meal is served—on Sunday, earlier at 1:00—and afterward, he takes a short walk through the garden on the roof of the Apostolic Palace, because “Post coenam stabis vel passus mille meabis” (After eating you should rest, or else walk a thousand steps). Then comes the siesta, but he does not use the whole siesta time to rest; instead, he also writes letters and postcards and reads all sorts of things. I get the impression, in any case, that he works for part of the siesta time. In the summer, we always prayed the Breviary at around 4:00 in the afternoon, while at 5:00 he takes a walk either in the Vatican gardens or the garden of Castel Gandolfo, during which he prays the Rosary together with his secretary, Monsignor Georg Ganswein. In the winter, on the other hand, when it gets dark early, this walk takes place at 4:00. Toward 6:00, the regularly scheduled audiences are held. In the morning, there are the private audiences, in which he receives most importantly the bishops who come from abroad and heads of state, and so on, while the afternoon is reserved for the regularly scheduled audiences in which the heads of the various Curia offices give their reports and offer suggestions in matters in which the Pope must make a decision.
The evening meal is at 7:30; at 8:00 he watches the news. At around 8:30, he takes another short walk on the roof or, in the winter, in the corridors of the house. Afterward, Compline, the night prayer of the Church, is prayed, and with that his work day actually ends. Usually we sit down in the living room and talk for a while.
Do you also watch television together? Does the Holy Father have a favorite program?
Well, before the news, there used to be a television series Inspector Rex. We always used to watch it, because we like dogs, too. We are well acquainted with Herr Helmut Brossmann, the owner of the German shepherd “Rex” who plays the title role. He lives in the vicinity of Regensburg; he is also the manager of the Kastelruther Spatzen or the Augsburg Puppenkiste. He has even organized a few events for the Domspatzen. He is originally from the Sudetenland and converted to the Catholic faith a few years ago. A canon from the “Old Chapel” instructed him, and I was his confirmation sponsor. He is a great animal lover, and besides breeding German shepherds, including both of the dogs who portrayed “Rex”, he has a whole zoo; furthermore, he is co-owner of the famous kennel that breeds Saint Bernards at the Great Saint Bernard Pass in the Alps. Other than that, my brother rarely watches television, at most a video film once in awhile that is related in some way to the Vatican or to a forthcoming canonization or beatification.
It is said that he reads aloud to you from the Breviary since your vision is no longer very good, while you play music for him. . .
That is right; he prays the Breviary aloud: after Mass in the morning, Vespers in the afternoon, and Compline in the evening, because I can no longer pray them alone. In the evening, before we go to sleep, he sometimes asks me to play a song for him. Then I play for him on the piano a hymn or a folk song, for instance, “Im schonsten Wiesengrund”, or night songs like “Der Mond ist aufgegangen” or “Adieu zur guten Nacht”, just very simple things. In Advent or the Christmas season, of course, I play Christmas carols instead, whatever suits the occasion.
Does he go to bed rather early?
Yes, actually after the evening meal he does not work anymore; that was always the case. He can concentrate phenomenally throughout the day and works very quickly and efficiently. But he is not at all someone who works at night.
What does it mean for you to be “the Pope’s brother” now?
Ah, personally, little has changed; more externally than interiorly. It is true, of course, that I am suddenly interesting to many people for whom I was previously nobody important. So I get many phone calls, from the press and other media, too; people often visit me, and I have been able to establish contacts that I did not have before. At first this led to a certain unrest in my life, but fortunately that has gradually ebbed away.
Otherwise, I must admit, not much has actually changed in my relationship with my brother, either. Only in prayer, then you present entirely different concerns to the dear Lord now. But still, the personal relationship has remained the same.
In Place of an Afterword:
Sixty Years a Priest (2011)
On June 29, 2011, the Pope and his brother celebrated their “diamond priestly jubilee”, the sixtieth anniversary of their ordination as priests on June 29, 1951, in the cathedral in Freising. Two days previously, Monsignor Georg Ratzinger had flown to Rome for the occasion. After celebratinga private Mass in the private chapel of Benedict XVI, he attended at 9:30 the great Pontifical Solemn High Mass for the Feast of Saints Peter and Paul in Saint Peter’s Basilica. Even though the almost three-hour ceremony was centered on the bestowal of the pallium on forty metropolitan bishops from twenty-four countries on four continents, Benedict XVI still recalled in his homily the day that left a more lasting impression on him than any other event in his truly eventful life: “ ‘I no longer call you servants, but friends’ (Jn 15:15). Sixty years on from the day of my priestly ordination, I hear once again deep within me these words of Jesus that were addressed to us new priests at the end of the ordination ceremony by the Archbishop, Cardinal Faulhaber, in his slightly frail yet firm voice. According to the liturgical practice of that time, these words conferred on the newly ordained priests the authority to forgive sins. . . . At that moment I knew deep down that these words were no mere formality, nor were they simply a quotation from Scripture. I knew that, at that moment, the Lord himself was speaking to me in a very personal way. In baptism and confirmation he had already drawn us close to him, he had already received us into God’s family. But what was taking place now was something greater still. He calls me his friend. He welcomes me into the circle of those he had spoken to in the Upper Room, into the circle of those whom he knows in a very special way, and who thereby come to know him in a very special way.”
Shortly before his departure for Rome, I asked Georg Ratzinger for a resume, so to speak, a look back on his own priesthood and the unusual career of his brother. Central to that interview, however, was the question of what it means in the first place to be a priest in our time.
Herr Domkapellmeister, when you look back on all these sixty years, in all honesty: Was your decision to enter the priesthood the right one; is it worthwhile to follow the Lord’s call?
Absolutely! I cannot imagine at all how my life could have taken a different course. From childhood on, practically speaking, it was my goal, of which I never lost sight. And that is true of my brother, also: even though one thing or another did not develop as we had planned, nevertheless, the direction was clear from the beginning. So we both followed this path with all its consequences, and so today I can only say: I am heartily grateful to the dear Lord that he gave me the strength to travel this path without any ifs, ands, or buts. You simply sense his guidance and providence. Life holds certain difficulties in store for every human being, but if you have such a beautiful, fulfilling goal, if you sense that the Lord is near and you can follow so unwaveringly the way leading to him, then you can only exclaim with your whole heart: Deo gratias! (Thanks be to God!)
Does a priest receive more than he gives?
I think so; yes, you can put it that way!
When I gave a seminar in the Emmanuel School of Mission (ESM) in Altotting, I read the extraordinary motto of these young Christians who are involved in the missions, and I liked it very much: “Give all—get more!” Is that true also for priestly ministry?
Yes, by all means, that is correct. Above all, when a priest is engaged in pastoral care, when he then really makes an effort for the people and is not just watching the clock, he often receives infinitely rich blessings.
Unfortunately in B. for a time there was a pastor who publicly declared: “I don’t let it burn me out!” That was a caricature of a priest, because anyone who thinks that way really should never have been allowed to be ordained. If someone really takes the care of souls to heart and sees in every human being he meets someone who wants to go to Christ, even though he knows that in the immediate situation the Lord’s authority is expressed only in a weak priest, then he experiences such a great response, even from quarters where he actually would never have expected it. And I mean not just the gratitude of those with whom he deals directly; it comes then from quite different directions, also. That is when you first sense that it is really a blessing to be a priest. Someone who becomes a blessing for others is rewarded a thousandfold by the Lord and is then truly blessed. In that respect, the privilege of being a priest and serving the Lord is really a certain ideal.
What were the most beautiful moments in your priestly life?
That is difficult to say, actually. I have always understood my activity in the field of music to be pastoral work, also, for with everything we sang, even if it was not liturgical music, we tried to convey to people something of God’s greatness. Even the secular pieces that do not lead us away from God communicate to us something of the glory of his creation.
But if you ask me about the most beautiful moments of my priestly life, then I have to say: It was always a solemn liturgy that we were able to help organize by means of magnificent music, in a beautiful church setting, in the worshipping community, when the people are reverent and a silence prevails that is not artificially created or commandeered but comes about on its own, precisely out of that reverence. A liturgy, though, in which the human senses are filled, too: the eye, the ear, and then the sense of smell through the incense, which also makes an important contribution. Those are indeed moments of
happiness that you do not get in that form and intensity at a secular concert, however beautifully it is performed! This exaltation, this sense of being fulfilled and borne up at a Solemn High Mass come from somewhere else, after all, of that I am convinced!
Do you think that music is a subtler form of prayer?
I certainly could say that, yes! After all, the prayer of a human being, whether vocal prayer, common prayer, or even silent, private prayer, has its limits somewhere. Praise of God that is sung and set to music, in contrast, grips him holistically, not merely personally, the way he is. It lends him another, entirely new dimension, which vocal, mental, or meditative prayer cannot attain to the same extent.
Is music therefore also a path to God?
By all means, yes. It can also be a path leading away from him; think, for example, of the marching songs of the Hitler era or also the products of the secular entertainment industry, which only stir up human passions. Music can also be an instrument of the devil, but it is also an instrument of God.
Back to your brother, the Pope. In this conversation, we have reviewed his probably unique path from being a policeman’s son to the leader of the universal Church, and it is time for the bottom line. What do you think? Does an unbroken thread run through the life of Benedict XVI, or was it an enormous accident that he finally became pope?
If you look at it from a purely human perspective, then of course it was chance. But when a believing person looks at his whole life, the way it unfolded, then he recognizes that it was a higher act of providence that led him purposefully to its goal—not to his! If you look at this path, how directly it actually ran: from a little acolyte to a theology student, then to an assistant pastor, an instructor, professor, prelate, bishop . . . it is a step-ladder in which each step had a particular meaning, on which he, practically speaking, kept moving forward, kept climbing a bit higher—not because he wanted it that way, not because he always advanced out of ambition, but because someone impelled him to take each of these steps, and he actually yielded only out of the conscientious fulfillment of his duty, constantly striving to perform the mission that was assigned to him.
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