The ham.

The Treccani dictionary defines ‘ham’ as: ‘one who acts in theatrical performances’. In common parlance and in a figurative sense: ‘someone who adopts exaggeratedly theatrical behaviour in life; someone who puts on a show in a blatant and undignified manner’.

Many years ago, when I was still a teenager, Charles Aznavour released a beautiful song containing these words: ‘I am a ham. But genius was born with me […] but theatricality flows within me’.

A song which, if I’m not mistaken, was later covered by Massimo Ranieri some time later.

Perhaps those of us who are a bit older will also remember the original version.

A few days ago, I bumped into a young man with a VIP-like air about him, whom I’ve known since he was born.

He stopped, greeted me warmly and began telling me about his life, his work in the world of politics and his travels.

He said that one of his goals is to visit the wonders of the world and that he’d just returned from one such destination. He solemnly declared that he’d already visited several of them.

All this without me having asked anything, partly because he didn’t give me the chance. 

He was too caught up in his soliloquy and I was merely a spectator.

At the end of his speech, he tells me that he has completed dental treatment for a tooth that had been causing him a great deal of trouble and that he is still in pain […] he lists the medicines he is taking. Then he looks at me and ironically reiterates that when doctors encounter difficulties in their work, they always say it’s down to the mind.

And here came a thunderous laugh, coupled with all the ‘pathos’ with which he’d woven his narrative.

The only thing missing was the final round of applause, which didn’t come. Just a cordial ‘goodbye’.                                                                          My professional bias kicked in as I reflected on what had happened.

There are people who, rather than simply connecting with others, need to put on a show and seek the approval of others.   

This is something we all do to a certain extent, within acceptable limits, and it gives us pleasure. Such people sometimes go in search of an ‘audience’ where they can express and display their feelings and experiences, without worrying about building a relationship or a genuine connection – and once they have communicated their emotions, they leave quickly, often in search of another ‘audience’. 

They must always be the centre of attention and often express their emotions in a  theatrical manner. Everything they achieve is something grand; all their actions are ‘a triumph’.

Behind this behaviour, there is usually an enormous fear of being alone, of being abandoned. Of course, we all have these fears to some extent, but we do not resort to compensatory mechanisms of that sort.

Sometimes we are afraid of certain emotions we feel, as if we feared that what we are feeling is unhealthy. 

We must always bear in mind that what happens within our psyche is not entirely random or pathological, but purposeful and constructive. There are not only demons; there are angels too.

I can’t recall whether I’ve already expressed this idea, but I’ll reiterate it because I consider it important and because I think we’ll be less frightened if we realise we’re experiencing certain feelings.

Without referring to psychological manuals or classifications… we’ve all probably experienced feelings like those described above at certain times in our lives.

People with these characteristics are ‘theatrical’ and express their experiences in an exaggerated manner.

They can be seductive or even provocative.

They use their physical appearance in an exaggerated way to get noticed and appear interesting.

They rely more on emotion than on reflection, and tend towards superficiality and banality.

They are also easily influenced and idealise the people they admire; sometimes to the point of imitating them.

They dream of ideal love, but often become involved in unsuitable and unattainable relationships.

They exaggerate every physical sensation, even when there is no actual physical pain.

In severe cases, many people channel and project these emotions onto parts of the body that are psychologically significant to the individual and their personal history.

And so, as the young VIP mentioned above humorously put it, the psyche comes into play.

I do not wish to bore readers or come across as melodramatic myself, but many individuals have often expressed their unease through their bodies.

Some do so more visibly, others in a more subtle way – though perhaps more interesting and fascinating to an ‘insider’.

The literature often refers to ‘hysterical blindness’.

These people are unable to see properly – to a greater or lesser degree. I recall a teenager with visual problems being referred to our department’s psychological assessment (sent by the ophthalmology department).

However, it is not always accepted that objective problems may have an ‘internal’ cause, and so often either the psychological assessment – deemed offensive – is abandoned, or other solutions are sought that may give the illusion of a way out.

It also happens that some individuals, having been referred for an ‘internal’ assessment by leading Italian centres of excellence, but subsequently rejecting what was suggested to them, turn to private practitioners who offer solutions that are, unfortunately, sometimes harmful.

Dr Francesco Giovannozzi, Psychologist and Psychotherapist.

12th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A)  [21 June 2026]

First reading from the Book of the Prophet Jeremiah (20:10–13)

This passage is one of what are known as the ‘Confessions of Jeremiah’; we might also call them the ‘Confidences of Jeremiah’. Here the prophet reveals what lies deepest in his heart, and today’s few lines sum up his feelings well. His life is a constant paradox: that which constitutes his deepest joy, his reason for living, his security, is also the source of all his suffering. It is the Word of God. It is not explicitly named in this text, but it is clearly implied. It is because he proclaims the Word of God “in season and out of season” (as St Paul would say) that he is persecuted; yet it is precisely this same Word that gives him the strength to carry on. It is often said that no one is a prophet in his own land, and this applies perfectly to Jeremiah. He was a great prophet, but this was only realised after his death. During his lifetime, his message proved too uncomfortable. He himself specifies the period of his preaching: from the thirteenth year of Josiah’s reign until the deportation from Jerusalem, that is, from 627 to 587 BC. Forty years during which he saw several kings succeed one another in Jerusalem, but very few listened to him. What was he reproached for? Simply the courage to speak the truth. And the truth was by no means reassuring: from the top to the bottom of the social ladder, breaches of the Covenant were multiplying in every sphere. Here is an example of his preaching: “They are all adulterers, a band of traitors” (Jer 9:1)… “From the least to the greatest, all are greedy for gain; from the prophet to the priest, all practise deceit” (Jer 8:10). In other words, corruption and the love of money had corroded the whole of society, and religion was nothing more than a façade. For this reason, he spent much of his life crying out, provoking, and denouncing. At times he even performed unusual acts to warn the king, the court, the priests and all those in authority who were leading the people to ruin. On a political level, he sought to open the eyes of his compatriots and dared to announce what was by now evident: Nebuchadnezzar would soon overrun Jerusalem. To make himself better understood, he performed a spectacular act: he publicly smashed a brand-new jug fresh from the potter’s hands, to announce the fate awaiting Jerusalem, which would be reduced to shards (Jer 19:1–11). But instead of listening to him, they accused him of being an accomplice of the enemy because, as the saying goes, there is none so deaf as those who will not hear.

Nevertheless, nothing and no one could divert him from his mission, and his secret lay simply in the awareness that he had been sent by God. His second secret was knowing that he was too small for the task entrusted to him and therefore did not seek strength in himself, but in God. And he experienced God’s presence at the heart of all his trials. In this regard, his prayer remains striking: “Lord, let me see the vengeance you will take upon them, for to you I have entrusted my cause.” An expression that suggests three observations. First of all, the desire for revenge is deeply human, and the prophet remains a man; his particular mission makes him neither insensitive nor a superman. Secondly, he does not seek revenge, but entrusts everything to God. Finally, beyond personal retribution, what Jeremiah ardently desires is the triumph of truth. Like every true prophet, he already knows that God’s love will be stronger than anything and that one day it will succeed in eliminating all evil from the earth. This is what he calls God’s vengeance: God’s eternal triumph over the forces of evil.

Responsorial Psalm (68/69)      

This psalm arises from the cry of a believer persecuted because of his faithfulness to God. The psalmist suffers humiliation, insults and perhaps even imprisonment, yet he continues to trust in the Lord, certain that God hears the humble and does not abandon those who belong to him. His suffering stems precisely from his love for God: “My love for your house consumes me”, and the insults directed at God also fall upon him. This experience recalls the story of the prophets of Israel, often persecuted by their own people. Among them stands out Jeremiah, who, like all true prophets, had the courage to proclaim God’s truth even when it was inconvenient. The prophet is, in fact, the voice of God in the world and, since God’s thoughts do not coincide with those of men, he inevitably goes against the tide. His word calls for justice, holiness, brotherhood and conversion, bringing to light what many would prefer to hide. For this reason, prophets often experience rejection and discouragement. Moses, Elijah and, above all, Jeremiah went through moments of profound suffering. Jeremiah even went so far as to curse the day of his birth, overwhelmed by persecution and humiliation. His experience recalls that of Job and, in a broader sense, that of the entire people of Israel in times of trial. The psalmist describes his condition as that of a man who is drowning: the waters overwhelm him, the mud drags him down, and there seems to be no hope left. Yet, even in the darkest hour, he continues to pray. The very Word of God that causes him suffering is the source of his strength. The imagery of the psalm recalls the story of Jeremiah, thrown into a cistern for denouncing the religious corruption of the people and the Temple. In the same way, Jesus will take up this prophetic tradition when he drives the merchants out of the Temple; and on that occasion, the evangelist John will apply the words of the psalm to Christ: ‘Zeal for your house will consume me’. The psalm concludes, finally, on a note of trust and thanksgiving. In biblical tradition, supplication and thanksgiving are closely linked: the believer praises God even before seeing deliverance realised, because he is certain of God’s faithfulness. For this reason, the psalmist already proclaims God’s victory, the salvation of the poor and the joy of those who seek the Lord. Thus, lamentation is transformed into hope, and the suffering of the righteous becomes a testimony to the certainty that God never abandons his faithful.

Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Romans (5:12–15)

 St Paul contrasts Adam and Jesus Christ, not as two historical figures to be compared, but as two opposing ways of life. Adam represents humanity seeking happiness, power and fulfilment far from God, relying on its own strength. Jesus Christ, on the other hand, represents the man who lives in full communion with God, welcoming his love and his life. According to the account in Genesis, God created man to share in his own life. The ‘breath of life’ received from God indicates that human beings truly live only when they remain united with him. The desire for greatness, happiness and the infinite that dwells in the human heart is therefore good and corresponds to God’s plan. The serpent’s error lies in leading Adam and Eve to believe that they can become “like God” without God, through disobedience. In doing so, they voluntarily sever the vital bond with the Creator and fall into spiritual death. Paul, in fact, speaks of death and life primarily in a spiritual, not a biological, sense.

Adam thus symbolises original sin: the man who seeks to appropriate what belongs to God and ends up turning away from the source of life. Jesus Christ, on the contrary, does not seek to seize equality with God, but lives in total acceptance of the Father’s love. For this reason, He is without sin, ‘full of grace and truth’. Thanks to Christ, humanity can be restored to communion with God. In Him, the bond between God and man is perfectly realised: He draws all to Himself and enables people to receive divine life once more.

Paul thus presents two fundamental choices: to live like Christ, welcoming God’s breath and love, and growing in the spiritual life; Or to live like Adam, seeking happiness independently of God, with the result of spiritual death. Grace is not an object one possesses, but the loving relationship between God and humanity. Jesus Christ has restored this vital relationship, for which we were created. As St Augustine says: ‘You have made us for Yourself, Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You.’ Similarly, for St John, eternal life consists in knowing and loving God and Jesus Christ. True life and true joy are found only in union with God; to seek them elsewhere is an illusion that leads to spiritual death

From the Gospel according to Matthew (10:26–33)

Jesus warns his disciples that the mission of proclaiming the Gospel will not be easy. He sends them “like sheep among wolves” and foretells persecutions, trials, floggings and even the hatred of all because of his Name. For this reason he repeats several times: Do not be afraid. The reason for this encouragement is that the truth of God cannot be stopped. All that was hidden will be revealed, and what Jesus has entrusted to his disciples must be proclaimed openly. In Christ, God’s plan of love is fully revealed, a plan that in the Old Testament had been revealed only gradually through prophets and sages. The disciples, having seen and heard Christ, cannot remain silent about what they have experienced. When Matthew writes his Gospel, Christians are already suffering persecution, especially from certain Jewish circles. This teaching therefore serves to strengthen their faithfulness. If the Church exists today, it is also because those first believers overcame their fear and remained steadfast in the faith. Nothing can separate us from the love of God. Jesus distinguishes between two kinds of danger: physical death, which the disciples may suffer as a result of persecution; and spiritual death, which is far more serious, consisting in separation from God. This is why he says: “Do not fear those who kill the body” but rather those who can cause a person to lose their communion with God. The true fear must be that of abandoning the mission by yielding to the temptation of unfaithfulness. To reassure his disciples, Jesus reminds them that they are constantly under the Father’s protection: not a single sparrow falls to the ground without God knowing it, and even the hairs on their heads are counted. God knows and watches over each one personally. Jesus also promises that whoever acknowledges him before men will be acknowledged by him before the Father. To be a Christian therefore means to declare oneself united to Christ not only in words, but through one’s life, for through Baptism we are grafted into him and share in his relationship with the Father. This is why St Paul can affirm that nothing can separate us from the love of God manifested in Christ. When Jesus says: ‘Whoever denies me before men, I too will deny him before the Father’, he is not pronouncing a definitive condemnation, but reminding us of human freedom. Like Peter, who denied Jesus during the Passion, even those who stray can always return. And Christ, as He did with Peter after the Resurrection, continues to ask but one question: Do you love me? The disciple of Christ may encounter hostility and persecution, but must not fear. The real threat is not losing one’s earthly life, but turning away from God. Those who remain faithful to Christ live in the certainty that nothing can separate them from His love.

+Giovanni D’Ercole

The important Uniqueness does not let us 'resume': it does, however, lead to Rebirth.

(Mt 10:26-33)

Christ’s proposal subverts quietism and the sense of personal and social life, so his friends find themselves counter-hand.

The disciple of Truth is exposed to attacks.

There is no set orientation. But in states of discomfort, in defeat, in humiliation, a malleable energy world acts, which brings innate capacities to the surface; it activates the person to fly with its own wings.

It is a point of origin, which wherever we go we do not shake off. Because here we are ourselves; in the centre of our Mission, not homologated under conventions and accommodations.

As such, belonging to the Church is not a safe haven and shelter from every storm.

The faithful should not be astounded by the trials, sufferings, isolation, blackmail - ploys of those who use power [or established religiosity itself] for their own gain and as a weapon.

The fear of being marginalized cannot push us to hide the truth, which is a factor of recognition for us: to lose the connection and neglect to be one with it would be worse than torture.

To be honest, what makes us cowards, unfaithful, diplomatic and weak - therefore useless and irrelevant - is often much much less than a danger to life, to goods, or to our smallest freedoms.

Purposes that are too close do not unite man and the world to God. They do not confirm the rightness and conformity of the great End and Source: continuous Presence that accompanies our particular activity.

There are many «falling hairs», but each of them has an original appearance: it “is” in a special way, it has its own place and meaning.

The personal Call remains constitutive of the unrepeatable essence that opens the door to the commitment of Uniqueness.

It opens up the task of 'rebirth', in the exceptional awe of the new genesis of each person, and of the earth.

It is unprecedented essence. Grammar of our language, character of interacting in the world, and of listening to God.

The genuine Vocation - unrepeatable to the end, whatever the cost - is the only path to take to read and meet the 'genius of the age' before the problems.

Personal Atypicality fertilised by Mystery is a kind of impulse that turns crises into opportunities. Willingness-factor of recognition that accompanies and orients us in them; with the help of simplicity, for a new blossoming.

Here, even in seemingly insignificant or downright critical situations, we can perceive the energy of inner resources - left free to act and nurture all opposing situations.

By walking the paths of the unusual, we will become flexible; we will ride the waves of unexpected change.

But right there we will be totally ourselves: cosmic and divine intention, immeasurably important ones.

To internalize and live the message:

Did a persecution happen to you that - while you would have preferred other near goals - brought out the very originality of your vocational physiognomy?

Uniqueness

11. “Each in his or her own way” the Council says. We should not grow discouraged before examples of holiness that appear unattainable. There are some testimonies that may prove helpful and inspiring, but that we are not meant to copy, for that could even lead us astray from the one specific path that the Lord has in mind for us. The important thing is that each believer discern his or her own path, that they bring out the very best of themselves, the most personal gifts that God has placed in their hearts (cf. 1 Cor 12:7), rather than hopelessly trying to imitate something not meant for them. We are all called to be witnesses, but there are many actual ways of bearing witness. Indeed, when the great mystic, Saint John of the Cross, wrote his Spiritual Canticle, he preferred to avoid hard and fast rules for all. He explained that his verses were composed so that everyone could benefit from them “in his or her own way”. For God’s life is communicated “to some in one way and to others in another”.

[Gaudete et Exsultate]

[12th Sunday in O.T. (year A), June 21, 2026]

Persecution and Inappearance: from one's Core to the terraces

(Mt 10:26-33)

The all-important Oneness does not let us "resume": however, it makes us be Reborn.

Christ's proposal subverts the quietism and meaning of personal and social life.

The disciple of the Truth is exposed to attack.

There is no set orientation. But in states of discomfort, in defeat, in humiliation, a malleable energy world acts, which brings out innate capacities; it activates the person to fly with his own wings.

It is a source of origin, which wherever we go, we do not shake off. Because here we are ourselves; in the centre of our Mission, not homologated under conventions and accommodations.

In this way, belonging to the Church is not a safe haven and shelter from every storm.

The faithful must not be astounded by the trials, sufferings, isolation, blackmail - ploys of those who use power [or established religiosity itself] for their own gain and as a weapon.

The fear of being marginalised cannot drive us to hide the truth, which is a factor of recognition for us: to lose the connection and neglect to be one with it would be worse than torture.

To be honest, what makes us cowardly, unfaithful, diplomatic and weak - hence useless and irrelevant - is often much less of a danger to life, property, or our smallest freedoms.

Purposes that are too close do not unite man and the world with God. They do not confirm the rightness and conformity of the great End and Source: continuous Presence that accompanies our particular activity.

Many are the "falling hairs", but each of them has an original physiognomy: it "is" in a special way, it has its own place and meaning.

The personal Calling remains constitutive of the unrepeatable essence that opens to the commitment of Oneness.

It opens to the task of 'rebirth': in the time of the global crisis, not of 'recovery as before' - but of exceptional astonishment in the new genesis of each person, and of the earth.

It is unprecedented character, even with ourselves. Cipher of the grammar of our daily language, of interacting in the world.

And in the soul, of listening to God who reveals himself by triggering vital energies [complete because discordant]. With its unthinking healing processes, without formula.

The genuine Vocation - unrepeatable to the end, whatever the cost - is the only path to take to read and encounter the 'genius of time' before problems.

Personal Atypicality fertilised by Mystery is a kind of impulse that transforms crises into opportunities.

Willingness-factor of recognition that accompanies and orients us in them; with the help of simplicity, for a new blossoming.

Here, even in seemingly insignificant or downright critical situations, we can perceive the energy of inner resources - left free to act and nurture all opposing situations.

By treading the paths of the unusual, we will become flexible; we will ride the waves of unexpected change.

But right there we will be totally ourselves: cosmic and divine intention, immeasurably important.

The encyclical Fratelli Tutti rails against "a model of globalisation that consciously aims at one-dimensional uniformity and seeks to eliminate all differences and traditions in a superficial quest for unity. If globalisation claims to make everyone equal, as if it were a sphere, it destroys the distinctiveness of each person and each people. This false universalist dream ends up depriving the world of the variety of its colours, its beauty and ultimately its humanity. Because the future is not monochromatic, but, if we have the courage, it is possible to look at it in the variety and diversity of the contributions that each person can make. How much our human family needs to learn to live together in harmony and peace without us all being equal!" (n.100)

It is good to rejoice in the dissimilarities that inhabit us, in the variety of contributions and points of view that each one can communicate - important: also in the view of difficulties and ways of solving them.

The mature, integral man, in the diversification and variety of knowledge, in the dissimilarity of approaches and processes, in the versatility of channels of expression, is more complete.

Today, even in a culture strongly marked by communitarian anthropology, such as that of Africa, one realises perfectly well the value of what is personal and unprecedented - even in favour of ties:

"A day will come when you too will have to share your knowledge of things and men. You will bear singular witness to a unique event revealed to you alone, in a language as yet unseen. And you will tell your brothers the unspeakable wisdom of your heart' [Irénée Guilane Dioh].A similarly African oral tradition - ceremonial and personalistic - indeed reads:

"The outward initiation is the opening of the eyes, all the teaching that is given during the traditional ceremonies or periods of retreat that follow. But this teaching one must then live it, assimilate it, make it bear fruit, adding to it one's own personal observations, one's own understanding, one's own experience'.

The scene of the spontaneous examples that Jesus draws from nature is also an echo of the conciliatory life dreamt for us by the Father.

It introduces us to the Happiness that makes one aware of existing, in all personal reality.

In fact, the Gospel passage shows the value of genuine, silent, unremarkable things, which nevertheless inhabit us - they are not 'shadows'. And we perceive them without effort or cerebral commitment.

In the time of epochal choices, of the emergency that seems to checkmate us - but wants to make us less artificial - this awareness can overturn our judgement of substance, of 'the small' and 'the great'.

Indeed, for the adventure of love there is no accounting.

'Heaven' that conquers death is in God and in reality the 'place' for each of us without lacerations.

The afterlife is not imprecise.

One does not have to distort oneself for consensus... much less for a constellated firmament.

The destiny of exceptional Uniqueness does not go to ruin: it is precious and dear, as every singularity is in nature.

One must glimpse its Beauty, future and already present.

With immediate gain marginalised, or any social guarantee that does not concern the value of littleness - there will be no more need to identify oneself with the skeletons of established [or fashionable] thought and manners.

Nor will it matter to place oneself above and in front: rather, in the background; already rich and perfect, in the intimate sense of fullness of being.

Thus we will not have to trample on each other (cf. Lk 12:1)... even to meet Jesus.

In short:

"We are absolutely lost if we lack this particular individuality, the only thing we can truly say is ours - and whose loss is also a loss for the whole world. It is most precious also because it is not universal' [Rabindranath Tagore].

Indeed, even in a relationship of deep love and coexistence "there is a need to free oneself from the obligation to be equal" (Amoris Laetitia, no.139).

To internalise and live the message:

Did a persecution happen to you that - while you would have preferred other near goals - brought out precisely the uniqueness of your vocational physiognomy?

For Jesus we are not a "mass", a "multitude"! We are individual "persons" with an eternal value, both as creatures and as re-deemed persons! He knows us! He knows me, and loves me and gave himself for me! (Gal 2:20) [John Paul II]

Uniqueness

11. “Each in his or her own way” the Council says. We should not grow discouraged before examples of holiness that appear unattainable. There are some testimonies that may prove helpful and inspiring, but that we are not meant to copy, for that could even lead us astray from the one specific path that the Lord has in mind for us. The important thing is that each believer discern his or her own path, that they bring out the very best of themselves, the most personal gifts that God has placed in their hearts (cf. 1 Cor 12:7), rather than hopelessly trying to imitate something not meant for them. We are all called to be witnesses, but there are many actual ways of bearing witness. Indeed, when the great mystic, Saint John of the Cross, wrote his Spiritual Canticle, he preferred to avoid hard and fast rules for all. He explained that his verses were composed so that everyone could benefit from them “in his or her own way”. For God’s life is communicated “to some in one way and to others in another”.

[Gaudete et Exsultate]

All of us today are well aware that by the term "Heaven" we are not referring to somewhere in the universe, to a star or such like; no. We mean something far greater and far more difficult to define with our limited human conceptions. With this term "Heaven" we wish to say that God, the God who made himself close to us, does not abandon us in or after death but keeps a place for us and gives us eternity. We mean that in God there is room for us. To understand this reality a little better let us look at our own lives. We all experience that when people die they continue to exist, in a certain way, in the memory and heart of those who knew and loved them. We might say that a part of the person lives on in them but it resembles a "shadow" because this survival in the heart of their loved ones is destined to end. God, on the contrary, never passes away and we all exist by virtue of his love. We exist because he loves us, because he conceived of us and called us to life. We exist in God's thoughts and in God's love. We exist in the whole of our reality, not only in our "shadow". Our serenity, our hope and our peace are based precisely on this: in God, in his thoughts and in his love, it is not merely a "shadow" of ourselves that survives but rather we are preserved and ushered into eternity with the whole of our being in him, in his creator love. It is his Love that triumphs over death and gives us eternity and it is this love that we call "Heaven": God is so great that he also makes room for us. And Jesus the man, who at the same time is God, is the guarantee for us that the being-man and the being-God can exist and live, the one within the other, for eternity. 

This means that not only a part of each one of us will continue to exist, as it were pulled to safety, while other parts fall into ruin; on the contrary it means that God knows and loves the whole of the human being, what we are. And God welcomes into his eternity what is developing and becoming now, in our life made up of suffering and love, of hope, joy and sorrow. The whole of man, the whole of his life, is taken by God and, purified in him, receives eternity. Dear Friends! I think this is a truth that should fill us with deep joy. Christianity does not proclaim merely some salvation of the soul in a vague afterlife in which all that is precious and dear to us in this world would be eliminated, but promises eternal life, "the life of the world to come". Nothing that is precious and dear to us will fall into ruin; rather, it will find fullness in God. Every hair of our head is counted, Jesus said one day (cf. Mt 10: 30). The definitive world will also be the fulfilment of this earth, as St Paul says: "Creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and obtain the glorious liberty of the children of God" (Rom 8: 21). Then we understand that Christianity imparts a strong hope in a bright future and paves the way to the realization of this future. We are called, precisely as Christians, to build this new world, to work so that, one day, it may become the "world of God", a world that will surpass all that we ourselves have been able to build. In Mary taken up into Heaven, who fully shares in the Resurrection of the Son, we contemplate the fulfilment of the human creature in accordance with "God's world". 

Let us pray the Lord that he will enable us to understand how precious in his eyes is the whole of our life; may he strengthen our faith in eternal life; make us people of hope who work to build a world open to God, people full of joy who can glimpse the beauty of the future world amidst the worries of daily life and in this certainty live, believe and hope. Amen!

[Pope Benedict, homily at Castel Gandolfo, 15 August 2010]

1. God is the judge of the living and the dead. The final judge. The judge of all.
Even in the catechesis preceding the descent of the Holy Spirit upon the Gentiles, Saint Peter proclaims of Christ: “He is the judge of the living and the dead, appointed by God” (Acts 10:42). This divine power (“exousía”) is, already in Christ’s teaching, linked to the Son of Man. The well-known passage on the Last Judgement in the Gospel of Matthew begins with the words: “When the Son of Man comes in his glory with all his angels, he will sit on the throne of his glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate them one from another, as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats” (Mt 25:31–33). The text then describes the course of the judgement and foretells the verdict, that of approval: “Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world” (Mt 25:34); and that of condemnation: “Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels” (Mt 25:41).
2. Jesus Christ, who is the Son of Man, is at the same time true God because he possesses the divine power to judge human works and consciences, and this power is definitive and universal. He himself explains why he alone has this power, saying: “For the Father judges no one, but has entrusted all judgement to the Son, so that all may honour the Son just as they honour the Father” (Jn 5:22–23).
Jesus links this power with the ability to give life. “Just as the Father raises the dead and gives life, so also the Son gives life to whom he wills” (Jn 5:21). “For just as the Father has life in himself, so he has granted the Son to have life in himself; and he has given him the power to judge, because he is the Son of Man” (Jn 5:26–27). Thus, according to this statement of Jesus, the divine power to judge has been linked to the mission of Christ as Saviour, as Redeemer of the world. And judging itself belongs to the work of salvation, to the order of salvation: it is a definitive salvific act. For the purpose of judgement is full participation in divine life as the ultimate gift bestowed upon man: the definitive fulfilment of his eternal vocation. At the same time, the power to judge is linked to the outward revelation of the Father’s glory in his Son as the Redeemer of mankind. “For the Son of Man will come in the glory of his Father . . . and will repay each person according to their deeds” (Mt 16:27). The order of justice has been inscribed, from the very beginning, within the order of grace. The Last Judgement must be the definitive confirmation of this bond: Jesus clearly states that “the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of the Father” (Mt 13:43), but no less clearly he also announces the rejection of those who have committed iniquity (cf. Mt 7:23).
Indeed, as is evident from the parable of the talents (Mt 25:14–30), the measure of judgement will be cooperation with the gift received from God—cooperation with grace or rejection of it.
3. The divine power to judge all and each belongs to the Son of Man. The classic passage in the Gospel of Matthew (cf. Mt 25:31–46) particularly emphasises the fact that Christ exercises this power not only as the Son of God, but also as a Man; He exercises it—and pronounces the judgements—in the name of solidarity with every person, who receives good or evil from others: “I was hungry and you gave me food” (Mt 25:35), or “I was hungry and you did not give me food” (Mt 25:42). A fundamental “element” of the judgement is works of charity towards one’s neighbour. Christ identifies himself precisely with this neighbour. “Whenever you did this to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you did it to me” (Mt 25:40); “Whenever you did not do it . . . you did not do it to me” (Mt 25:45).
According to this passage from Matthew, everyone will be judged above all on the basis of love. But there is no doubt that people will also be judged on their faith: “Whoever acknowledges me before others, the Son of Man will also acknowledge before the angels of God” (Lk 12:8). “Whoever is ashamed of me and my words, the Son of Man will be ashamed of him when he comes in his glory and that of the Father” (Lk 9:26; cf. also Mk 8:38).
4. From the Gospel we therefore learn this truth—which is one of the fundamental truths of the faith—namely, that God is the judge of all men in a definitive and universal way, and that this power has been entrusted by the Father to the Son (cf. Jn 5:22) in close connection with his mission of salvation. This is attested to in a particularly eloquent manner by the words spoken by Jesus during his night-time conversation with Nicodemus: “God did not send his Son into the world to judge the world, but that the world might be saved through him” (Jn 3:17).
While it is true that Christ, as we see especially in the Synoptic Gospels, is a judge in the eschatological sense, it is equally true that the divine power to judge is linked to God’s saving will, which is manifested in Christ’s entire messianic mission, as John particularly emphasises: “I have come into this world to judge, so that those who do not see may see (and those who see may become blind)” (Jn 9:39). “If anyone hears my words and does not keep them, I do not condemn him: for I have not come to condemn the world, but to save the world” (Jn 12:47).
5. Without doubt, Christ is and presents himself above all as Saviour. He does not consider it his mission to judge men according to merely human principles (cf. Jn 8:15). He is, first and foremost, the One who teaches the way of salvation and not the accuser of the guilty. “Do not think that I am the one who accuses you before the Father; there is already one who accuses you, Moses . . . for he has written about me” (Jn 5:45–46). In what, then, does judgement consist? Jesus replies: “And this is the judgement: the light has come into the world, but people preferred darkness to light, because their deeds were evil” (Jn 3:19).
6. It must therefore be said that, in the presence of this Light which is God revealed in Christ, in the presence of this Truth, in a certain sense one’s own works judge each person. God’s will to save humanity finds its definitive expression in the word and work of Christ, in the entire Gospel right up to the Paschal Mystery of the Cross and the Resurrection. It becomes, at the same time, the deepest foundation, so to speak, the central criterion for the judgement of human works and consciences. It is above all in this sense that “the Father . . . has entrusted all judgement to the Son” (Jn 5:22), offering in him to every person the possibility of salvation.
7. In this very sense, unfortunately, man has already been condemned when he rejects the possibility offered to him: “Whoever believes in him is not condemned; but whoever does not believe has already been condemned” (Jn 3:18). Not to believe means, strictly speaking, to reject the salvation offered to man in Christ (“He did not believe in the name of the only Son of God”) (Jn 3:18). It is the same truth foreshadowed in the prophecy of the aged Simeon, recorded in the Gospel of Luke, when he proclaimed of Christ: “He is destined for the fall and the rising of many in Israel” (Lk 2:34). The same may be said of the reference to the “stone rejected by the builders” (cf. Lk 20:17–18).
8. It is, however, a certainty of faith that “the Father . . . has entrusted all judgement to the Son” (Jn 5:22). Now, if the divine power to judge belongs to Christ, it is a sign that he—the Son of Man—is true God, for judgement belongs to God alone. And since this power of judgement is deeply united to the will for salvation, as we learn from the Gospel, it is a new revelation of the God of the covenant, who comes to mankind as Emmanuel, to free them from the bondage of evil. It is the Christian revelation of the God who is Love.
Thus, that all too human way of conceiving God’s judgement—seen as cold justice alone, if not outright vengeance—is corrected. In reality, this expression, which is clearly derived from the Bible, appears as the final link in God’s love: God judges because He loves and in the light of love. The judgement which the Father entrusts to Christ is in accordance with the measure of the Father’s love and of our freedom.
[Pope John Paul II, General Audience, 30 September 1987]

In this Sunday’s Gospel (cf. Mt 10:26-33) the invitation that Jesus addresses to His disciples resonates: to have no fear, to be strong and confident in the face of life’s challenges, as he forewarns them of the adversities that await them. Today’s passage is part of the missionary discourse, with which the Teacher prepares the Apostles for their first experience of proclaiming the Kingdom of God. Jesus persistently exhorts them to “have no fear”. Fear is one of the most terrible enemies of our Christian life. Jesus exhorts: “have no fear”, “fear not”. And Jesus describes three tangible situations that they will find themselves facing.

First and foremost the hostility of those who would like to stifle the Word of God, by sugar-coating it, watering it down, or by silencing those who proclaim it. In this case, Jesus encourages the Apostles to spread the message of salvation that He has entrusted to them. For the moment, He has transmitted it cautiously, somewhat covertly, among the small group of disciples. But they will utter his Gospel “in the light”, that is, openly; and will proclaim it “upon the housetops” — as Jesus says — that is, publicly. 

The second difficulty that Christ’s missionaries will encounter is the physical threat against them, that is, direct persecution of them personally, to the point of being killed. This prophesy by Jesus is realized in every age: it is a painful reality, but it attests to the faithfulness of witnesses. How many Christians are persecuted even today throughout the world! They suffer for the Gospel with love, they are martyrs of our days. And we can say with confidence that they are more numerous than those of the earliest times: so many martyrs, just for the fact of being Christians. Jesus advises these disciples of yesterday and today who suffer persecution: “do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul” (v. 28). We should not allow ourselves to be frightened by those who seek to extinguish evangelizing power with arrogance and violence. Indeed, they can do nothing against the soul, that is, against communion with God: no one can take this away from disciples, because it is a gift from God. The only fear that a disciple should have is that of losing this divine gift, closeness, friendship with God, giving up living according to the Gospel, thereby acquiring moral death, which is the effect of sin. 

Jesus indicates as the third type of test that the Apostles will have to face, the sensation, which some may feel, that God himself has abandoned them, remaining distant and silent. Here too, Jesus exhorts them not to fear, because even while experiencing these and other pitfalls, the life of disciples lies firmly in the hands of God who loves us and looks after us. They are like three temptations: to sugar-coat the Gospel, to water it down; second: persecution; and third: the feeling that God has left us alone. Even Jesus suffered this trial in the Garden of Olives and on the Cross: “Father, why have you forsaken me?”, Jesus asks. At times one feels this spiritual barrenness; we must not fear it. The Father takes care of us, because our value is great in His eyes. What matters is frankness, the courage of our witness, our witness of faith: “recognizing Jesus before men” and going forth doing good.

May Mary Most Holy, model of trust and abandonment in God in the hour of adversity and danger, help us never to surrender to despair, but rather always to entrust ourselves to Him and to his grace, because God’s grace is ever more powerful than evil.

[Pope Francis, Angelus, 21 June 2020]

Two masters: what outlet for what we carry inside

(Mt 6:24-34)

How to avoid selling oneself for an idol, and not commit suicide by subjecting the breath of the soul to something ephemeral, instantaneous and partial?

Identifications, calculation of interests and artificial material goods empty the Core of being and do not show the solution.

The experience of Fatherhood in Faith is the sacred place that recovers the meaning of the original life; the vital intuition, of nature, that illuminates what is appropriate to pursue in order to overturn the doubtful or shrunken existence.

Awareness of agreement with the natural order grafts more lymph.

Cosmic vision helps to direct the forces that emerge, revolutionizes hopes, nourishes boldness, suggests the orientation of events in uniqueness, and sublimates the same quality of coexistence.

The «son» who notices others and does not accumulate, does not lose anything - but acquires another march: he experiences a Father who takes care of his own history, and expands life by building even on the dark sides.

The believer aware of being accompanied always manages to take another step.

He knows that nature spontaneously fills the voids, and it does so with a mysterious and supreme wisdom of balances.

Only on this new territory do we become solicitous of the great themes, but without the anxiety that bewilders us.

We gladly accept even the precariousness and situations of weakness: nourished by God’s ‘rest’ - and as in His «rural rhythm» - we know that needs and defects hide the most beautiful surprises of the journey.

The scene of the examples Jesus draws from nature is an echo of the conciliatory life dreamt for us by the Father.

It introduces the quintessence of Happiness from within. Joy that makes one aware of existing in all personal reality.

A paradoxical intuition of fullness of being, in the limit that belongs to us - which then overcomes the fear of not living up to it.

In fact, the Gospel passage shows the value of genuine, silent, inconspicuous things, which however live in us - they are not "shadows". And we perceive them without effort or brain commitment.

We often ask whether God really participates in our doubts, expectations and torments, or vice versa indifferent.

Sometimes even the Psalms seem to make blasphemous accusations to the Eternal, which impute Him of little attention to the events of the righteous.

Even great saintly figures experienced serious upheavals; anxieties and trepidations that were long hidden, because [in a framework of conformist serenity] they were considered unedifying.

Instead it is quite normal - indeed, healthy and profitable - to feel the old hopes waver, and welcome in full the failures, negative emotions or other surrounding clouds.

The problem is that from an early age we are accompanied by the instinct of the search for security, and unfortunately in many cases we try to have the same attitude even in the path believer.

On the contrary, life in the Spirit detach itself - flowing into the more of the Faith and the Mystery, which ‘work’.

The Way proposed by Jesus has a non-moralistic tone, devoid of complexes, in view of the dedication to Today’s missionary life and the harmonious growth of belonging to the Faith at various levels (all to be discovered).

In its quiet power, here is the astonishment that does not kill the soul. And the natural world has the keyword.

[Saturday 11th wk. in O.T.  June 20, 2026]

Two masters: what outlet for what we carry inside

(Mt 6:24-34)

We often wonder whether God is really a participant in our doubts, expectations and torments, or conversely indifferent.

Sometimes even the Psalms seem to address blasphemous accusations to the Eternal One, accusing Him of lacking attention to the affairs of the righteous.

Even great saintly figures have experienced serious turmoil; turmoil that was long hidden from us, because it was considered unedifying (in a picture of conformist serenity).

Instead, it is quite normal - indeed, healthy and beneficial - to feel old hopes wavering, and to fully embrace failures, negative emotions or other clouds that surround us.

The problem is that from an early age the instinct of seeking security accompanies us, and unfortunately in many cases we try to have the same attitude on the believing path as well.

Instead, life in the Spirit detaches itself from the vacuous institutional religious spiritual affair of the masses (which promises much and delivers nothing)... in the more of Faith and Mystery, which operate.

The point of reference is not the chronicle of homo faber ipsius fortunae - which is not by chance a pagan motto.

The soul does not willingly remain in a world characterised by petty antagonism, which demands to rush into the temporal action-reaction mechanism.

Frictions must be welcomed and reworked, for in them lies an intimate secret of growth.

[Thus, for example, he who wants to fight us will do us the greatest favour in life. Welcome it. It will be an opportunity to disengage from the immediate, and develop alternative - preparatory - energies of our unthinkable developments].

In this sense, let us accept the Father, who relentlessly compels us to shift our gaze - so that we spread our wings and arrive elsewhere, at the point we did not know before.

Otherwise, in the cloak of haste to adjust and reaffirm, we might trust other impulses - the ones that offer (illusory) security and block the flow of life, making it swampy and predictable.

The certainties of food, or roles, of gain and sense of power, even the slave mentality of holidays (...) then like any idol, demand everything: one becomes a lackey of a master who demands attention.

The attachment or even the adoration of mammon [Aramaic mamônâ, from 'aman - to support, to make foundation] gratifies, certainly; but on the spur of the moment.

Even to the point of deluding oneself that accumulation can make one experience divine intoxication. At most, however, by granting some alms.

The coryphaei of material opulence promptly say: "Trust me, the important thing is to keep for oneself and to be in the practical tally" - also because in today's Gospel passage, Jesus seems naive.

Yet Christ insists on proposing a non-servile relationship with goods. In terms of the fullness of being, one gains immensely more in welcoming the providential power of the Life that Comes.

In the rural imagery, the Lord alludes to the experience of wandering Israel.

In the Exodus, God had educated the people so that they could conquer the land of freedom and abandon the land of slavery - reassuring, not humanising.

In the wilderness, one could not accumulate property, nor pitch a permanent tent; not even hoard lasting food. Nothing was to enchant the people but the destination itself.

Certainly, the affliction of the poor is not that of the rich.

However, money does not eliminate anxieties - rather it artificially drives one to a monstrous expenditure of energy (always denying one's deep, dreamy being).

First the sacrifices to achieve positions, then those to defend them; and in the meantime, the frustration at not having advanced further.

That is, the anguish in measuring the difference between real goals and soul desires - both in the sense of totality and specific vocation.

Jesus suggests that we face reality with a new heart, respectful of the natural character. Otherwise, we would become ill.

We are serene in the eminent self that belongs to us - not in combing the lower self.

That is why we allow ourselves to be guided by non-artificial inclinations: radical, innate, germinal - which spontaneously contact the deep layers of the essence and destiny that belongs to us.

We do this not because we are gullible, but out of deep instinct, and because we have already experienced the cycle of 'death and resurrection': the dynamism of Love that has projected us somewhat out of time.

Here the negative and limit experiences have been able to activate harmonising (not subjective but propulsive) overall energies, cosmic outside and acutely divine within us. They will do so again.

Providence is the infallible Guide of the inner, natural, genuine world: the rhythm of being, the powerful [but spontaneous] step of the process of Faith must take over.

How, then, is it possible to avoid selling oneself for an idol, and not committing suicide by enslaving the soul's breath to something ephemeral and partial?Identifications, calculations of interests and artificial material goods empty the Core of being and do not make us see the authentic solution.

The experience of Paternity in Faith is the sacred place that recovers the sense of the original life; the vital intuition, of nature, that illuminates what should be pursued to overturn the doubtful or shrunken existence. 

All this, in the feeling that creation, personal innate vocation and human society are closely united in deep meaning and growth. Here the awareness of agreement with the natural order grafts more lymph.

Cosmic vision and personal character help us direct the forces that emerge, revolutionising expectations, nurturing boldness, suggesting the direction of events, in oneness.

Thus, truly sublimating the same quality of living and personhood.

The son who takes notice of others and does not accumulate, loses nothing - but rather gains another gear: he experiences a Father who takes care of his own history, and expands his life by building even on the dark sides.

The believer who is aware of being accompanied always manages to take another step. He knows that nature spontaneously fills in the gaps, and does so with a mysterious and supreme wisdom of balance.

It is only on this new territory that links the chronicle to history that we become solicitous of the great issues, but without the hassle that goes astray.

We willingly accept even precariousness and situations of weakness: nourished by God's rest - and as in his rural rhythm - we know that our needs and faults hide the most beautiful surprises of the journey.

The Way proposed by Jesus has a non-moralistic tone, devoid of complexes, in view of dedication to the missionary today and the harmonious growth of belonging in the Faith at various levels (all to be discovered).

In its quiet power, here is the astonishment that does not kill the soul. And the natural world has the key word.

"Man has lived in a state of bewilderment and fear until he discovered the stability of the laws of nature: until then the world remained foreign to him. The laws discovered are nothing other than the perception of the reigning harmony between reason, proper to the human soul, and the phenomena of the world. This is the bond by which man is united with the world in which he lives, and he feels great joy when he discovers this, for then he sees and understands himself in the things that surround him. To understand something is to find something of our own in it, and it is this discovery of ourselves outside ourselves that fills us with joy' (Rabindranath Tagore).

To internalise and live the message:

Who is your Lord or master? What totally occupies your horizon? Do you feel it is something that matches or sells your humanity?

Conclusion Spontaneous inclusion

The scene of examples that Jesus draws from nature - an echo of the conciliatory life dreamt for us by the Father - also introduces us to the Happiness that makes one aware of existing in all personal reality.

Indeed, the Gospel passage shows the value of genuine, silent, unremarkable things, which nevertheless inhabit us - they are not 'shadows'. And we perceive them without effort or cerebral commitment.

In the time of epochal choices, of the emergency that seems to checkmate us - but wants to make us less artificial - such awareness can overturn our judgement of substance, of the small and the great.

Indeed, for the adventure of love there is no accounting or clamour.

It is in God and in reality the 'place' for each of us without lacerations.

The hereafter is not imprecise.

One does not have to distort oneself for consent... least of all for the 'Heaven' that conquers death.

The destiny of oneness does not go to ruin: it is precious and dear, as it is in nature.

One must glimpse its Beauty, future and already present.

Once immediate gain has been marginalised - or any social guarantee that does not devour the value of littleness - there will no longer be any need to identify with the skeletons of established or disembodied, sophisticated, and fashionable thought and manners.

Nor will it matter to place oneself above or in front: rather in the background, already rich and perfect, in the intimate sense of the fullness of being.

Thus we will not have to trample on each other (cf. e.g. Lk 12:1)... even to meet Jesus.

"We are absolutely lost if we lack this particular individuality, the only thing we can truly call our own - and whose loss is also a loss for the whole world. It is most precious also because it is not universal' (Rabindranath Tagore).

"If globalisation claims to make everyone equal, as if it were a sphere, this globalisation destroys the distinctiveness of each person and each people".[78] This false universalist dream ends up depriving the world of the variety of its colours, its beauty and ultimately its humanity. Because 'the future is not "monochromatic", but, if we have the courage, it is possible to look at it in the variety and diversity of the contributions that each person can make. How much our human family needs to learn to live together in harmony and peace without us all being equal!" [Fratelli Tutti n.100].

To internalise and live the message:

Did a persecution happen to you that - while you would have preferred other near goals - brought out the very originality of your vocational physiognomy?