On 21 March 1947, three years after Monte Cassino's fatal destruction, Pope Pius XII issued an encyclical from Rome, Fulgens Radiatur, sub-titled ‘On St. Benedict’. From the outset, he celebrated the brilliance of the saint's resplendent light, which shines ‘like a star in the darkness of night […] a glory not only to Italy but of the whole Church’. The focus on this solemn occasion then shifted to Benedict's role in the renewal and restoration of the Catholic Church in a post-war era. No better spokesman could be found in the aftermath of such devastation. For while ‘all earthly institutions begun and built solely on human wisdom and human power, in the course of time succeed one another, flourish and then quite naturally fail, weaken and crumble away’, the abbey of Monte Cassino presented a powerful anomaly. Throughout the centuries of its long existence, ‘through the hostile fortunes of time and circumstances’, Benedict's mountaintop foundation remained steadfast and resilient. Suffering destruction on numerous occasions, its spirit nevertheless remained intact. The secret to its resurrection: the ‘unfailing life and abiding strength [received] from on high’, which was capable even amidst ‘ruins and failures’ to help sustain and fortify the Church.

While the pope's message was overwhelmingly positive, the celebrations were comparatively sombre. On this feast day, which also marked fourteen centuries after ‘that saintly man [Benedict] gained heaven’, Pius XII issued a call to arms among his gathered brethren. ‘When the recent war was raging and spread in a lamentable way to the shores of Campania and Latium,’ he reminded his audience, ‘it reached […] the holy summit of Monte Cassino’.