The pope turns to the interpretations of the Second Vatican Council, first the theory of discontinuity:

On the one hand, there is an interpretation that I would call "a hermeneutic of discontinuity and rupture"; it has frequently availed itself of the sympathies of the mass media, and also one trend of modern theology. On the other, there is the "hermeneutic of reform," of renewal in the continuity of the one subject-Church which the Lord has given to us. She is a subject which increases in time and develops, yet always remaining the same, the one subject of the journeying People of God.

The hermeneutic of discontinuity risks ending in a split between the pre-conciliar Church and the post-conciliar Church. It asserts that the texts of the Council as such do not yet express the true spirit of the Council. It claims that they are the result of compromises in which, to reach unanimity, it was found necessary to keep and reconfirm many old things that are now pointless. However, the true spirit of the Council is not to be found in these compromises but instead in the impulses toward the new that are contained in the texts.

These innovations alone were supposed to represent the true spirit of the Council, and starting from and in conformity with them, it would be possible to move ahead. Precisely because the texts would only imperfectly reflect the true spirit of the Council and its newness, it would be necessary to go courageously beyond the texts and make room for the newness in which the Council’s deepest intention would be expressed, even if it were still vague.

In a word: It would be necessary not to follow the texts of the Council but its spirit. In this way, obviously, a vast margin was left open for the question on how this spirit should subsequently be defined and room was consequently made for every whim.

Benedict then rather deftly takes this apart in a most powerful way, using the most appropriate means: the Gospel, more specifically, the parables about individuals left in care of a treasure by a superior. That was the role of the bishops at the Council, and, of course, everywhere and at any time: to protect the treasure of faith Christ has left us, and to nurture it so it bears fruit in the modern world.

He also, not unreasonably, refers to the words of the Popes involved in the Council:

The hermeneutic of discontinuity is countered by the hermeneutic of reform, as it was presented first by Pope John XXIII in his speech inaugurating the Council on 11 October 1962 and later by Pope Paul VI in his discourse for the Council’s conclusion on 7 December 1965.

He then continues, outlining the basic tensions between the Church and the modern world that had developed from the 18th through the 20th centuries, and that were necessary for the Council to address: the relationship between faith and modern science, between the Church and modern state, and the issue of religious tolerance. He teases these issues apart and acknowledges that the risk of apparent "discontinuity" with the past is very high. But:

The Second Vatican Council, with its new definition of the relationship between the faith of the Church and certain essential elements of modern thought, has reviewed or even corrected certain historical decisions, but in this apparent discontinuity it has actually preserved and deepened her inmost nature and true identity.

The Church, both before and after the Council, was and is the same Church, one, holy, catholic and apostolic, journeying on through time; she continues "her pilgrimage amid the persecutions of the world and the consolations of God," proclaiming the death of the Lord until he comes (cf. "Lumen Gentium," No. 8).

He then discusses the continuing challenges of an honest encounter with modernity, and concludes, rather winningly, I think:

Christmas is now at hand. The Lord God did not counter the threats of history with external power, as we human beings would expect according to the prospects of our world. His weapon is goodness. He revealed himself as a child, born in a stable. This is precisely how he counters with his power, completely different from the destructive powers of violence. In this very way he saves us. In this very way he shows us what saves.

In these days of Christmas, let us go to meet him full of trust, like the shepherds, like the Wise Men of the East. Let us ask Mary to lead us to the Lord. Let us ask him himself to make his face shine upon us. Let us ask him also to defeat the violence in the world and to make us experience the power of his goodness. With these sentiments, I warmly impart to you all my apostolic blessing.

What is intriguing is a discussion of the Council that is so broadly based, and doesn’t take on the issues that so many of us on this side of the ocean are absorbed with and see as the primary fruit of the Council, for good or for ill – the changes in the liturgy and the collapse of Catholic identity, which finds its expression, for example, in the catechetical crisis.  Food for thought, in regard to both the deeper causes of those particular crises we like to talk about here, as well as the bigger picture beyond it…