God bless us and may the Virgin protect us. On this Sunday, 2 February 2025, we celebrate the Presentation of the Lord in the Temple of Jerusalem

*First Reading From the book of the prophet Malachi (3,1-4) 

We are in the presence of a mysterious prophetic fragment seen by many as a testimony of universalism, freedom and hope. However, it is not easy to understand how to accept this text. Why does the prophet Malachi insist so much on the Temple, on the Levites (or priests), on offerings and on everything related to worship? To understand this insistence, the historical context must be taken into account. Malachi writes around 450 BC, at a time when there was no longer a king in Israel descended from David, the country was under Persian rule, and the Jewish people were ruled by priests. This is why the author insists on God's covenant with the priests who were God's representatives to his people. Malachi recalls the privileged bond between God and the descendants of Levi, but witnesses a degeneration in the conduct of this priestly caste and it was therefore very important to recall the ideal and responsibility of the priesthood. The covenant with the priests was at the service of God's covenant with his people, and it is precisely this covenant that is spoken of here: 'Immediately shall the Lord whom you seek enter into his temple; and the angel of the covenant whom you long for, behold, he is coming'. Malachi addresses all those who wait, who desire, who seek, and announces to them that they have not waited, sought, desired in vain, and their desire, their expectation will be fulfilled. And this will soon come to pass.

"And immediately he will come", the Hebrew word pit'ôm indicates both swiftness and nearness, and is as strong as the expression that follows: "here he comes". The two synonymous expressions 'immediately he will enter' and 'here he comes' frame (include) the announcement of the Lord's coming. "Immediately shall he enter into his temple, the Lord whom you seek; and the angel of the covenant whom you long for, behold, he is coming". The angel of the covenant comes to re-establish the covenant: first of all with the sons of Levi, but above all, through them, with the whole people, and we understand that this angel of the covenant is God himself. In the Bible, in order not to name God directly out of respect, the expression 'the Angel of God' is often used. It is therefore about the very coming of God. In his small book of just four pages in our Bible, Malachi speaks several times of the day of his coming; he calls it the 'day of the Lord' and each time this day appears both desirable and disquieting. For example, in the verse that immediately follows the text of today's liturgy, God says: "I will come to you for judgment" (v. 5), that is, I will deliver you from evil. This is desirable for the righteous but fearsome for those who live in evil and work evil. God's intervention is a discernment that must take place within us on the day of judgement and a messenger must precede the coming of the Lord who will call all people to conversion. As Malachi writes: "I will send my messenger to prepare the way before me. Later, Jesus will quote precisely this prophecy referring to John the Baptist. Asking the people who they had gone to see, he will say that John the Baptist is "more than a prophet. He is he of whom it is written: Behold, I send my messenger before you; he shall prepare your way before you" (Mt 11:7-10 and Lk 7:27).  With these words, Jesus identified himself as the Angel of the covenant coming to his temple and we will understand this better by delving into St Luke's Gospel today, feast of the Presentation of the Lord 

*Responsorial Psalm 23/24 (7, 8, 9, 10)

"Lift up, O ye gates, your foreheads, lift up ancient thresholds, and let the King of glory come in". This expression is solemn and somewhat surprising since it is difficult to imagine that the gates would rise. We are in a poetic context and the hyperbole serves to express the majesty of this King of glory who solemnly enters the Temple of Jerusalem. The expression 'king of glory' refers to God himself, the Lord of the universe. Our thoughts go back to the great feast of the Dedication of the first Temple, performed by King Solomon around 950 BC. In our imagination we see again the huge procession, the steps packed with worshippers... As we read in Psalm 67/68: "Your procession appears, God, the procession of my God, of my king, in the sanctuary. Singers precede, zither-players follow, along with maidens playing tambourines" (Ps 67:25-26). The Dedication of the first Temple by Solomon is described in the first book of Kings. On that occasion Solomon gathered the elders of Israel, the heads of the tribes, and the princes of the families of the children of Israel in Jerusalem, to bring up the Ark of the Lord from the city of David, that is, from Zion in the month of Etanim, the seventh month, during the Feast of Tabernacles. When all the elders of Israel had arrived, the priests brought up the Ark, the tent of meeting, and all the sacred objects that were in the tent, and so many small and large cattle were sacrificed that they could not be counted nor enumerated. The priests placed the Ark of the Covenant of the Lord in its place, in the inner chamber of the House, the Holy of Holies, under the wings of the cherubim. The cherubim, in the Bible, do not resemble the little angels of our imagination, but are winged animals with human faces, more like large Egyptian sphinxes. In Mesopotamia, they were the guardians of temples. In the Temple of Jerusalem, above the Ark of the Covenant stood two gilded wooden statues depicting these beings. Their outstretched wings above the Ark symbolised the throne of God. In this context, we can imagine the crowd and a choir singing: 'Lift up, O gates, your foreheads, lift up ancient thresholds, and let the king of glory enter'. And another choir replies: 'Who is this king of glory? The Lord strong and valiant, the Lord valiant in battle'. Behind the terms recalling war, which may surprise us today, we must read the memory of all the battles Israel needed to win a living space. Ever since the giving of the Law on Sinai, the Ark accompanied the people of Israel in every battle, a sign of God's presence in the midst of his people. The most common assumption is that this psalm is very old, since all trace of the Ark has been lost since the Babylonian exile. No biblical text clearly mentions it either during or after the exile, but it is known that it ended up as part of the booty taken away by Nebuchadnezzar during the taking of Jerusalem. Was it later hidden by Jeremiah on Mount Nebo, as some relate? No one knows. Yet this psalm was sung regularly in the ceremonies of the Temple of Jerusalem even long after the Babylonian exile, at a time when there was no longer any procession around the Ark. This is precisely why it acquired greater importance: having definitively lost the Ark of the Covenant, the tangible sign of God's presence, the psalm represented all that remained of the past splendour. It taught the people the necessary detachment: God's presence is not bound to an object, however loaded with memory. Moreover, with the passing of the centuries, this psalm took on a new meaning: "Let the King of glory come in" became the cry of impatience for the coming of the Messiah. Come at last the eternal King who will reign over renewed humanity at the end of time! He will indeed be the "Lord valiant in battle" the one who finally vanquishes Evil and the powers of death; he will indeed be the Lord, God of the universe and all mankind will share in his victory. This was the expectation of Israel, which grew from century to century.  It is not surprising, then, that the Christian liturgy sings Psalm 23/24 on the day it celebrates the Presentation of the Child Jesus in the Temple of Jerusalem: a way of affirming that this child is the King of glory, that is, God himself.

* Second Reading From the letter to the Hebrews ( 2:14-18)

 The theme of Christ's mediation is fundamental in the Letter to the Hebrews. It is undoubtedly useful to remember that it was written in a context of not a few controversies, and it is precisely from this letter that we can intuit the kind of objections that the first Christians of Jewish origin had to face. They were constantly being told: Your Jesus is not the Messiah; we need a priest, and he is not. It was therefore crucial for a first-century Christian to know that Christ is indeed a priest, the institution of the priesthood being central in the Old Testament, as we also noted in the first reading from the book of Malachi, which is the last of the Old Testament. Now, such an important institution in the history of the Jewish people and for its survival, could not be ignored in the New Testament. Jesus, however, according to Jewish law, was not a priest and could not aspire to be one, much less consider himself a high priest. He was not descended from David, hence from the tribe of Judah, nor from the tribe of Levi, and the author of the Epistle knows this and states it clearly (cf. Heb 7:14).  The Letter to the Hebrews answers: Jesus is not a high priest descended from Aaron, but he is in the likeness of Melchizedek.  This character mentioned in Genesis chapter 14 lived long before Moses and Aaron and is related to Abraham. Yet he is called "priest of the Most High God" (cf. Gen 14:18-20). So Jesus is indeed high priest, in his own way, in continuity with the Old Testament. This is precisely the purpose of the Letter to the Hebrews: to show us how Jesus realises the institution of the priesthood and to realise in biblical language does not mean to reproduce the Old Testament model, but to bring it to its full perfection. So let us see the three aspects of the ancient priesthood and what its essential elements were: The priest was a mediator, a member of the people who was allowed to commune with God's holiness and, in return, passed on God's gifts and blessings to the people. In today's passage, it is emphasised that Jesus is indeed a member of the people: 'Since the sons have flesh and blood in common, Christ in the same way became a partaker of them... therefore he had to make himself in all things like the brethren...' (Heb 2:14-17). To be "like" means to share the same weaknesses: temptations, trials, suffering and death. Jesus shared our poor human condition and in order to bring God closer to man, he made himself one of us, thus cancelling the distance between God and man. Moreover, the priest had to be allowed to communicate with the holiness of God who is the Holy One, that is, the totally Other (Kadosh, El Elyon, HaKadosh HaMufla), as the Bible often reminds us. To get closer to the Holy God, priests underwent rites of separation: ritual bathing, anointing, dressing and sacrifice. Even the sacred places where the priests officiated were separated from the common living spaces of the people. With Jesus, all this is turned upside down: he never separated himself from the life of his people, rather he mingled with the little ones, the marginalised, the unclean. And yet, says the Letter to the Hebrews, we have certain proof that Jesus is the Righteous One par excellence, the Son of God, the Holy One: his resurrection by defeating death has re-established the Covenant with God, which was the very goal of the priests. We are now free, and the greatest enemy of freedom is fear. But, thanks to Jesus, we no longer have anything to fear because we know God's love. The one who made us doubt this love was Satan, but through death, Jesus reduced him to powerlessness (cf. 2:14-15). Jesus' suffering shows how far God's love for us goes. Finally a question: Why does this Letter speak of the "children of Abraham" and not the "children of Adam"? It states in fact. "He cares not for the angels, but for the seed of Abraham". The answer is because Abraham, in biblical meditation, represents faith, understood as trust, and we are left with the freedom not to be children of Abraham, that is, believers. It is up to us to decide whether or not to enter into God's plan.

*From the Gospel according to Luke (2:22 - 40)

In the account of the evangelist Luke a double insistence emerges: first on the Law, then on the Spirit. In the first verses (vv. 22-24), he mentions the Law three times to emphasise that the child's life begins under the sign of the Law. It should be made clear, however, that Luke mentions the Law of Israel not as a series of written commandments and indeed one could replace the word 'Law' with 'Faith of Israel'. The life of the Family of Nazareth is all imbued with faith, and when they come to the Temple in Jerusalem to fulfil the Jewish customs, they do so with an attitude of fervour. Luke's first message is this: the salvation of all mankind took shape within the framework of the Law of Israel, of the faith of Israel: in a word, the Word of God became incarnate in this context and thus God's merciful plan for mankind was fulfilled. Then Simeon enters the scene, prompted by the Spirit, also mentioned three times. It is therefore the Spirit who inspires Simeon with the words that reveal the mystery of this child: 'My eyes have seen your salvation'. It is good to take up these words of Simeon one by one: 'My eyes have seen your salvation, prepared by you before all peoples'. The Old Testament is the story of this long and patient preparation by God for the salvation of mankind. And it is precisely the salvation of mankind, not just the people of Israel. This is exactly what Simeon points out: 'Light to reveal you to the Gentiles and glory to your people Israel'. Israel's glory, in fact, lies in having been chosen not for itself, but for all mankind. As history progressed, throughout the events of the Old Testament, God's chosen people discovered more and more clearly that God's plan of salvation concerns the whole of humanity. furthermore, all this takes place in the Temple.  For Luke, the message is fundamental and he communicates it to us: we already witness the glorious entry of Jesus, Lord and Saviour, into the temple of Jerusalem, as the prophet Malachi had announced. This is precisely the opening of the first reading: 'Thus says the Lord God: Behold, I will send my messenger to prepare the way before me, and straightway the Lord whom you seek shall enter into his temple; and the angel of the covenant, whom you long for, behold, he is coming, says the Lord of hosts'.

Luke recognises in Jesus the Angel of the Covenant who enters his temple. Simeon's words about glory and light fit perfectly in this line: 'My eyes have seen your salvation, prepared by you before all peoples: light to reveal you to the Gentiles and glory to your people Israel'. Another echo of today's gospel in the Old Testament is found in the Psalm: "Who is this king of glory? Lift up, O gates, your foreheads". The psalm awaited a Messiah-king descendant of David; we know that the king of glory is this child. Luke describes a majestic scene of glory: the whole long wait of Israel is represented by two characters, Simeon and Anna. "Simeon, a righteous and godly man waited for the consolation of Israel". As for Anna, it can be assumed that if she spoke of the child to those who were waiting for the liberation of Jerusalem, it was because she too was eagerly awaiting the Messiah. When Simeon proclaims: 'Now you may let your servant go in peace, O Lord, according to your word, for my eyes have seen your salvation, prepared by you before all peoples: a light to reveal you to the nations and the glory of your people Israel', he clearly states that this child is the Messiah, the reflection of God's glory. With Jesus, it is the Glory of God that enters the Sanctuary; which is tantamount to saying that Jesus is the Glory, that he is God himself. From this moment, the time of the Law is fulfilled. The Angel of the Covenant has entered his temple to spread the Spirit over all mankind of every race and culture. 

P.S. For further study, since we also find this Gospel page on the feast of the Holy Family of Nazareth, I will add a few additional notes.

The expectation of the Messiah was alive in the Jewish people at the time of Jesus' birth, but not everyone spoke of it in the same way, even though the impatience was shared by all. Some spoke of the 'consolation of Israel', like Simeon, others of the 'deliverance of Jerusalem', like the prophetess Anna. Some were waiting for a king, a descendant of David, who would drive out the occupiers, representatives of the Roman power. Others awaited a completely different Messiah: Isaiah had described him at length and called him 'the Servant of God'.

To those who waited for a king, the narratives of the Annunciation and the Nativity showed that Jesus was precisely the one they were waiting for. For example, the angel at the Annunciation had told Mary: 'The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David; he will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and his kingdom will have no end'. Certainly the young girl from Nazareth was surprised, yet the message was clear.  Yet in the account of Jesus' presentation in the Temple, there is no mention of this aspect of the newborn child's personality. And besides, the child who enters the Temple in the arms of his parents was not born in a royal palace, but in a modest family in precarious conditions. Rather, it seems that St Luke invites us to recognise in the child presented in the Temple, the servant announced by Isaiah in chapters 42, 49, 50 and 52-53: 'This is my servant whom I uphold, my chosen one whom I rejoice in (42:1)...The Lord has called me from my mother's womb, from my mother's womb he has spoken my name (I49:1)...Every morning he listens to me, so that I may hear like the disciples; the Lord God has opened my ear' (50:4-5).  Such an expression declares that this servant was very docile to the word of God; and he had received the mission to bring salvation to the whole world. Isaiah said: "I have set you as a covenant for the peoples, as the light of the nations" (42:6)... "I will make you the light of the nations, that you may bring my salvation to the ends of the earth" (49:6). Which shows that already at the time of Isaiah it was understood that God's plan of love and salvation concerns all mankind and not only the people of Israel. Finally, Isaiah did not conceal the terrible fate that awaited this saviour: he would fulfil his mission of salvation for all, but his word, deemed too inconvenient, would arouse persecution and contempt. Let us recall this passage: 'I presented my back to the scourgers, my cheeks to those who plucked their beards' (50:6). Probably under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit and thanks to his knowledge of Isaiah's prophecies, Simeon immediately understood that the child was the Servant announced by the prophet. He guessed the painful fate of Jesus, whose inspired word would be rejected by the majority of his contemporaries. He said to Mary: "Behold, he is here for the fall and resurrection of many in Israel and as a sign of contradiction - and to you also a sword will pierce your soul - so that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed". Simeon understood that the hour of salvation for all mankind had come: "Now you may let your servant go in peace, O Lord, according to your word, for my eyes have seen your salvation, prepared before all peoples: light to reveal you to the nations and glory to your people Israel". Yes, Jesus is the Servant Messiah, described in Isaiah's "Songs of the Servant of the Lord" (42,49,50,52-53) the one who brings salvation: "Through him shall the will of the Lord be done" (53:10).

+Giovanni D'Ercole

I also offer at someone's request a short summary that can be circulated among the faithful. Next Sunday, 2 February 2025, we celebrate the Presentation of the Lord and

let us prepare ourselves by taking a quick look at the word of God that we will hear in Holy Mass

*First Reading From the book of the prophet Malachi (3,1-4) 

We are in the presence of a mysterious prophetic fragment seen by many as a testimony of universalism, freedom and hope. However, it is not easy to understand how to accept this text. The prophet Malachi insists so much on the Temple, the Levites (or priests), the offerings, and everything related to worship because Israel was under Persian rule and the Jewish people were ruled by the priests who were God's representatives to his people. The covenant with the priests was at the service of God's covenant with his people and it is this covenant that is at issue here. Malachi addresses all those who wait, desire, seek and announces to them that they have not waited, sought, desired in vain and their desire, their expectation will be fulfilled because soon the Angel of the Covenant will come, that is, God himself. As Malachi writes: "I will send my messenger to prepare the way before me. Later, Jesus will quote precisely this prophecy referring to John the Baptist. Asking the people who they had gone to see, he will say that John the Baptist is "more than a prophet. He is he of whom it is written: Behold, I send my messenger before you; he shall prepare your way before you" (Mt 11:7-10 and Lk 7:27).  With these words, Jesus identified himself as the Angel of the covenant coming to his temple and we will understand this better by delving into St Luke's Gospel today, feast of the Presentation of the Lord 

*Responsorial Psalm 23/24 (7, 8, 9, 10)

"Lift up, O ye gates, your foreheads, lift up ancient thresholds, and let the King of glory come in". This expression is solemn and somewhat surprising since it is difficult to imagine that the gates would rise. We are in a poetic context and the hyperbole serves to express the majesty of this King of glory who solemnly enters the Temple of Jerusalem. The expression 'king of glory' refers to God himself, the Lord of the universe. We can imagine the crowd and a choir singing: 'Lift up, O gates, your foreheads, lift up ancient thresholds, and let the King of glory enter'. And another choir responds: 'Who is this king of glory? The Lord strong and valiant, the Lord valiant in battle'. This psalm was sung in the ceremonies of the Temple of Jerusalem even long after the Babylonian exile, at a time when there was no longer any procession around the Ark. This is precisely why it acquired greater importance: having definitively lost the Ark of the Covenant, the tangible sign of God's presence, the psalm represented all that remained of the past splendour. It taught the people the necessary detachment: God's presence is not bound to an object, however loaded with memory. Moreover, with the passing of the centuries, this psalm took on a new meaning: "Let the King of glory come in" became the cry of impatience for the coming of the Messiah. Come at last the eternal King who will reign over renewed humanity at the end of time! This was the expectation of Israel, growing from century to century.  No wonder, then, that the Christian liturgy sings Psalm 23/24 on the day it celebrates the Presentation of the Infant Jesus in the Temple of Jerusalem: a way of affirming that this child is the King of glory, that is, God himself.

* Second Reading From the letter to the Hebrews ( 2:14-18)

 The theme of Christ's mediation is fundamental in the Letter to the Hebrews. It is undoubtedly useful to remember that it was written in a context of not a few controversies, and it is precisely from this letter that we can intuit the kind of objections that the first Christians of Jewish origin had to face. They were constantly being told: Your Jesus is not the Messiah; we need a priest, and he is not. It was therefore crucial for a first-century Christian to know that Christ is indeed a priest. Jesus, however, according to Jewish law, was not a priest and could not aspire to be one, much less consider himself a high priest. The Letter to the Hebrews answers: Jesus is not a high priest descended from Aaron, but he is in the likeness of Melchizedek, a character who appears in Genesis chapter 14 and lived long before Moses and Aaron and is related to Abraham. Yet he is called "priest of the Most High God" (cf. Gen 14:18-20). So Jesus is indeed high priest, in his own way, in continuity with the Old Testament. This is precisely the purpose of the Letter to the Hebrews: to show us how Jesus realises the institution of the priesthood, and to realise in biblical language does not mean to reproduce the Old Testament model, but to bring it to its full perfection. Finally a question: Why does this Letter speak of the "sons of Abraham" and not the "sons of Adam"? Indeed, it says. "He cares not for the angels, but for the seed of Abraham". The answer is because Abraham, in biblical meditation, represents faith, understood as trust, and we are left with the freedom not to be children of Abraham, that is, believers. It is up to us to decide whether or not to enter into God's plan.

*From the Gospel according to Luke (2:22 - 40)

In the account of the evangelist Luke a double insistence emerges: first on the Law, then on the Spirit. In the first verses (vv. 22-24), he mentions the Law three times to emphasise that the child's life begins under the sign of the Law. It should be made clear, however, that Luke mentions the Law of Israel not as a series of written commandments and indeed one could replace the word "Law" with "Faith of Israel" and the life of the Family of Nazareth is all imbued with this faith. Luke's first message is this: the salvation of all humanity took shape within the framework of the Law of Israel, of the faith of Israel: in a word, the Word of God became incarnate in this context and thus God's merciful plan for humanity was fulfilled. Then Simeon enters the scene, prompted by the Spirit, also mentioned three times. It is therefore the Spirit who inspires Simeon with the words that reveal the mystery of this child: "My eyes have seen your salvation, prepared by you before all peoples". The Old Testament is the story of this long and patient preparation by God for the salvation of mankind. And it is precisely the salvation of mankind, not just the people of Israel. This is exactly what Simeon points out: 'Light to reveal you to the Gentiles and glory to your people Israel'. The glory of Israel, in fact, lies in having been chosen not for itself, but for all mankind. For Luke, the message is fundamental and he communicates it to us: we already witness the glorious entry of Jesus, Lord and Saviour, into the temple of Jerusalem, as the prophet Malachi had announced. Luke recognises in Jesus the Angel of the Covenant entering his temple. The psalm awaited a Messiah-king descendant of David; we know that the king of glory is this child. Luke describes a majestic scene of glory: the whole long wait of Israel is represented by two characters, Simeon and Anna. "Simeon, a righteous and godly man waited for the consolation of Israel". As for Anna, it can be assumed that if she spoke of the child to those who were waiting for the liberation of Jerusalem, it was because she too was eagerly awaiting the Messiah. When Simeon proclaims: 'Now you may let your servant go in peace, O Lord, according to your word, for my eyes have seen your salvation', he clearly states that this child is the Messiah. With Jesus, the Glory of God enters the Sanctuary; which is equivalent to saying that Jesus is the Glory, God himself entered his temple to spread the Spirit over all mankind.

+Giovanni D'Ercole

From below, not from a summit

(Mk 4: 26-34)

Here we are introduced to a different mentality, to a new Family, to another Kingdom, not very "elevated"; indeed, completely reversed. Different from that expected on a mighty mountain (Ez 17:22).

It will not be portrayed by the majesty of the cedar of Lebanon [which once covered the mountain slopes of the Near East] but by a simple shrub in the kitchen garden (Mk 4:32a). 

And the very origins of this new reality will not come from the top of a lofty stem, but from a small seed, simply planted on the ground.

Little grain like the others. Nothing remarkable in itself. Which develops horizontally, rather (v.32b).

How much gas must be given to accelerate the spread of the Kingdom?

According to Jesus, we must wait for everyone to meet himself, without neuroses.

A proposal that knows no borders: it’s aimed at everyone. It is enough to let the grain do its normal things - thus integrating the energies; giving space, even giving way.

The Seed grows on its own, intertwined with the soil and climate, yet according to a deep individual character.

He escapes cerebral explanations: «How, it itself does not know» (v.27).

After sowing, the author of the gesture resumes normal life.

Letting it go, the little hidden grain walks its way, to the end.

This is the evolutionary factor.

No farmer tramples on his field, nor investigates what happens (bothering the seedlings): development, growth and maturation are in themselves guaranteed.

Anyone who wants to enter would disturb the sprouts.

Whoever dug to control the evolution of little bud that is intertwining its roots with the ground, would ruin everything.

Our sacred identity is inextricably linked to personal singularity: it entangles with an unrepeatable sensitivity and vicissitude.

It’s the darkness, the silence, the waiting, that make tender shoots sprout, in their uniqueness and authenticity.

They would only be harmed by the one who wanted to interfere, modifying, overlapping other patterns and trends - never conforming to the realities in spontaneous singular development.

Beware of the hastiness of those who immediately want a result other than to be ourselves in relation to the innate essence and personal mission, which emanate from the hidden Source.

Time of love is not immediate: it takes place along a path, whose periods cannot be marked by any hasty plan - only irritating - if not by the Spirit, so that we can manifest the intrinsic unprecedented.

No one can bother such exceptional wealth, which arises and develops «automatically» (v.28), so that we are enabled to give birth to the inner world, the quintessence, the Jesus who hatches in heart; not others.

«Laying hold of the scythe» (v.29) means that at this point the soul is awakened for the Kingdom, ready to ‘give life’ to itself and to brethren, overflowing its wholeness to others, even distant or wandering like birds (v.32).

Together, a Church that - without thinking too much about "how it should be" - convinces all those in need of shelter from the "heat".

And Seed can be transmitted anywhere by the same «volatiles» that settle there even just enough for each one to take flight again.

‘Parables of the kingdom’ in Mt 13 and here in Mk 4 do not narrate a solemn, epochal, majestic reality that stubborns and imposes itself.

Rather, the new kingdom will be comparable to a common shrub, which grows modestly - silent, in the home garden (v.32).

As if to say: we evolve into tiny signs - nothing extraordinary - but we are people, not facsimiles.

Thus we announce Paradise.

[Friday 3rd wk. in O.T.  January 31, 2025]

From below, not from a summit

(Mk 4: 26-34)

Here we are introduced to a different mentality, to a new Family, to another Kingdom, not very "elevated"; indeed, completely reversed. Different from that expected on a mighty mountain (Ez 17:22).

It will not be portrayed by the majesty of the cedar of Lebanon [which once covered the mountain slopes of the Near East] but by a simple shrub in the kitchen garden (Mk 4:32a). 

And the very origins of this new reality will not come from the top of a lofty stem, but from a small seed, simply planted on the ground.

Little grain like the others. Nothing remarkable in itself. Which develops horizontally, rather (v.32b).

How much gas must be given to accelerate the spread of the Kingdom? According to Jesus, one must wait for each one to meet himself, without neurosis.

The Kingdom of God is the sphere in which He reigns: the alternative society that believers inaugurate here, not looking nose-up at the afterlife.

The new reality will transcend time, because it is characterised by love for all: it will transcend the chronicle and even history.

This is also why the Gospels do not borrow images mediated by a particular cult and the sacred.

To make it clear that the Churches are not even limited to the earthly spatial-temporal dimension, the Master pretends not to know that - even at a slow pace - after sowing, the farmer cleans the field, protects the scattered seed, irrigates.

It is not amnesia his, but a special emphasis on what counts and distinguishes the soul's affair, contended between religiosity and Faith.

The image is simple, paradoxically mediated by the culture of the fields - to explain the rhythm of life in the Spirit.

It will sprout from the soil, sprout and blossom on a foundation that is not shaky, a genuine foundation without vocational dissent, far from external prejudices - which we detest underneath.

Then, on the horizon of every stretch of the journey there is always a new plant, another genesis, a different flowering in the time of the seasons, a different effervescence to be introduced into the already capitalised arrangement.

In commentary on the Tao Tê Ching (ix), Master Wang Pi writes: "The four seasons succeed one another. When their work is done, they pass away'.

A proposal that knows no borders, it appeals to all. Just let the seed do its normal thing - thus integrating energies; giving space, and even yielding.

[This would ensure the continued attraction and maturation of people and communities].

It is not an esoteric ideal, measured on people set apart, exceptionally gifted, particular, and titled: it is for the "ordinary" man (v.26) - but not scatter-brained, and who at the moment when he has to activate himself casts aside, that is, destined for all mankind.

Then he waits, and it is here that he lays down voluntarism and opens the door to the dreaming side - no longer trying to correct spontaneous processes and set things right according to his head.

In fact, in vv. 26-29, the work of the farmer is reduced to: sowing the seed and putting his hand to the sickle [in the ancient world, not the time of verification and reckoning, but the turning point of the feast that made everyone feel fulfilled, and everyone rejoice].

The focus of life in the Spirit escapes the person's stubbornly active work.

The seed-Word-event is planted underground, stands in the dark, rots and takes root, without anyone being able to accelerate its development, or later pull up the shrub to make it stand out.

As the Tao (ix) says: 'He who fills up what he possesses, had better desist' - and even 'when the work is done, to withdraw is the Way of Heaven'.

Jesus does not say that God's Blessing can possibly be thrown into a narrow field, as a careful miser would do: the Message of Salvation must be radiated unsparingly.

His Word opens the brain and limits sectarian thoughts, inviting one to overlook any temptation to exclusivism and define boundaries. Why?

The Seed has a vitality of its own, which does not depend on the outside. An ivy climbs, an oak tree takes root; an undergrowth flower knows how to stay in the shade, a sunflower soars; so on.

The Grain is even capable of self-healing - thus leading to a process of more solid self-healing.

This Grain of the Word (in us: the personal Calling) possesses a silent power, a hidden, yet irresistible direction and strength - not dependent on emotional swings or advantageous situations.

Easily it can be trampled upon, but the vocation recoils.

The more you stifle it, the more it re-enters with renewed energy.

We cannot deny our inclination, except by strengthening it - or by creating and accentuating discomforts on an identity [not character] basis, i.e. not our own.

One Mission is not worth the other.

The Seed grows on its own, intertwined with the soil and the climate, yet according to deep individual character.

It defies cerebral explanation: 'How, he himself does not know' (v.27).

After the sowing season, it is useless - indeed, harmful - to attempt to drug the path of growth.

Nothing but a rhythm of spontaneous development can properly direct existence.

In fact, the doer resumes normal life.

Left to its own devices, the little hidden grain goes its own way, all the way down.

This is the evolutionary factor.

No farmer tramples on his field, nor does he investigate what is going on, importuning: development, growth and ripening are guaranteed for himself.

He who would enter would disturb the shoots.

Whoever would dig to check the grain that is intertwining its roots with the soil would ruin everything.Our sacred identity is inextricably bound up with personal singularity: it is entangled with an unrepeatable sensitivity and vicissitude.

Here, becoming One with the perennial Infant Christ, we recognise Him in us - and then we bear fruit.

It is the darkness, the silence, the waiting, that make the tender shoots sprout, in their uniqueness and authenticity.

It would only damage them if one wanted to interfere, modifying, superimposing patterns and trends... never conforming to realities in spontaneous singular development.

It is the classic forcing of those who must at all costs condition us, and impose beliefs that have nothing to do with it.

The result is an abortion, caused by external influence [indeed, of nosy 'guides'] that easily stunts development.

When we put prejudices and beliefs aside and let go of the instinct that sees the divine self, faithful in growth and surprises, we will be enchanted and amazed.

We will have confirmation of what we sensed: ours - so lived, intense, fragrant - is a profound and sensitive intelligence.

The assimilation of the Word of God and the call of the creaturely vocation intertwine in time.

Beware of the precipitation of those who immediately want a 'result' that is not to be ourselves in relation to the innate quintessence and personal mission, which emanate from the hidden Source.

[The anger that is sometimes triggered also brings authenticity out into the open. So that we manifest the kernel of unrepeatable inclination].

In short, the time of love is not immediate, it unfolds along a path, whose periods cannot be marked by hasty designs or spiritual guides, only irritating - if not by the 'Spirit'.

"Holy" because by its Action it cuts off the germs of death; it helps to distinguish what is life, and wants us to manifest the inherent unseen.

"Ruah haQodesh": the only trustworthy, inherent, caring Master, endowed with an unclouded mind. From the disruptive force - which throws all organised, 'safe' and too cerebral reality into the air; therefore close to death.

The dynamism may be very slow, but no one will stop it, despite the destruction it has suffered. It will pick up again after humiliations and holes in the water.

These are lacerating moments, but they are reinterpreted by the soul on the journey as precious indications: prohibitions of access and ways out, if not precise signals.

That is why - after transmitting the Message - no running: one must have respect for space and time for growth.

If the Word of God does not intertwine its vital course with the individual subject's life story, there is a risk of anaesthetising or alienating precisely the most motivated souls - albeit unskilled in terms of cunning; weak, sensitive.

It is then useless to defuse the symptoms of malaise when someone feels held hostage - a stranger to himself.

If we are forced to remove or hide our authentic emotions from the homologising opinions of the 'best', we will vainly resemble them - dispersing the richness of our Name.

If the expert, instead of helping to broaden the panorama, were to impose no change, the person who allows himself to be plagiarised would not rediscover his own simplicity.

And life (even that spent most nobly, in the gift of self) would sooner or later become a nightmare, constantly subject to manipulation, just around the corner.

Indeed, Jesus could not stand managers who pretended to intervene with their conformism and 'proper' lifestyles.

Enough, then, of "regents" who place under an asphyxiating cloak the path that is ours by nature.

There are times when the feverish and pressing work must go into the background, so that the masterpiece we are inside can grow on its own.

Thus the fruit will surprise and exceed normal or prescribed expectations.

If the beginning is small and hidden, the inner call will go in symbiosis with that of the Word.

In this way, even the call of events and the genius of the time will be well interpreted and assimilated, within the extraordinary nature of each.

Jesus seems to be against the work of directors who control the movement and behaviour [of all others - except their own].

They must only unfold the Message, not their own opinion; then keep silent and do not meddle in the affairs of others.

Only - try to foster the assimilation of the Word, and the multifaceted pursuit of one's outspoken character.

The natural path goes and evolves in symbiosis with a process of rooting God's Proclamation in us on our ledges.

No one can disturb this exceptional richness, which is born and develops 'automatically' (v.28 Greek text) so that we are enabled to give birth to the inner world, the essence, the Jesus that broods in our hearts; not others.

Incarnation: it only continues and enriches if we do not delegate the unparalleled freedom of movement.Unparalleled breath that acts as a catalyst for exceptional, unrepeatable, singularly individual though related potentialities; to full maturity.

Life always develops in such a way that it can be difficult for us to understand - but in the experience of fullness of being and inner attunement with oneself, there is not so much to understand as to experience.

The result will be an out-scaling that realises in the round, on every side the inclination of the person.

Like a gradual unfolding that then channels itself into a particular trajectory - now made astounding also in terms of relationships: already blissful; exuberant, luxuriant.

Personal and selfless.

"Laying hold of the sickle" (v.29) means that at this point the person of Faith is awakened for the Kingdom, ready to give life to himself and his brethren. Overflowing its experience of wholeness to others, even distant or wandering like birds (v.32).

Together, a Church that - without thinking too much about 'how it should be' - convinces all those in need of shelter from arsure.

An experience that will convince them, only if as sons and brothers we have listened to that need for listening and understanding - sometimes so unexpressed.  Recharging passion, rekindling insight and life.

The Seed can be transmitted everywhere by the same "birds" (once only distant) that alight there, more or less enough for each one to take flight again and propose themselves to others - elsewhere - with interest.

The Kingdom of God is a living community, made up of believers who move and wait, transform and pull out of the field every varied, unconscious and dormant resource.

[The unexplored side - in fact - does not attract the attention of just any master. And the quality not designated from the outside is also likely to be overlooked, because it is not very magnificent (often not even explicit)].

"And he said: How shall we compare the Kingdom of God? Or in what parable shall we put it? Like a grain of mustard seed that when sown on the earth is smaller than all the seeds on earth" (Mk 4:30-31).

In short, the parables of the kingdom in Mt 13 and here in Mk 4 do not narrate a solemn, epochal, majestic, peremptory reality, which is self-evident and imposing.

Rather, the new kingdom will be likened to a common shrub, growing modestly - silently, in the kitchen garden (v.32) - among aubergines, lettuce, and cucumbers; daisies, weeds, and violets.

But for each one and without bounds.

To say: we each evolve into tiny signs - nothing extraordinary - but we are well-rounded persons, not puppets or facsimiles, nor merely extensions of the past.

We are not by character - we want to free ourselves from others' models - nor by prestige or unreachable (but trivial) excellence and showy grandiosity.

We remain nothing much, like the flowers of the undergrowth, or at most spinach; but we want to express ourselves without forcing.

We long to feel our vital energy circulating, leading out of the tedious, rambling herd.

After all, one can also love poorly - not something predictable, or someone who conditions and overpowers us.

Nightmares dissolve. This is how we proclaim Paradise.

To internalise and live the message:

What sense does the small hope of a few believers without a conspicuous, self-confident, doctrinal, and voluntarist heritage have for the social and cultural concert - today global -?

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

Today’s liturgy presents to us two short parables of Jesus: the parable of the seed that grows of its own accord and the parable of the mustard seed (cf. Mk 4:26-34). With images taken from the farming world the Lord presents the mystery of the Word and of the Kingdom of God, and points out the reasons for our hope and our dedication.

In the first parable the focus is on the dynamism of the sowing: the seed that was scattered on the land sprouts and grows by itself, whether the peasant is awake or asleep. The man sows with the trust that his work will not be fruitless. What supports the farmer in his daily efforts is specifically trust in the power of the seed and in the goodness of the soil. This parable recalls the mysteries of the creation and of redemption, of God’s fertile work in history. It is he who is the Lord of the Kingdom, man is his humble collaborator who contemplates and rejoices in the divine creative action and patiently awaits its fruits. The final harvest makes us think of God’s conclusive intervention at the end of time, when he will fully establish his Kingdom. The present is the time of sowing, and the growth of the seed is assured by the Lord. Every Christian therefore knows well that he must do all he can, but that the final result depends on God: this awareness sustains him in his daily efforts, especially in difficult situations. St Ignatius of Loyola wrote in this regard: “Act as though everything depended on you, but in the knowledge that really everything depends on God” (cf. Pedro de Ribadeneira, Vita di S. Ignazio di Loyola, Milan, 1998).

The second parable also uses the image of the seed. Here, however, it is a specific seed, the mustard seed, considered the smallest of all seeds. Yet even though it is so tiny, it is full of life; it breaks open to give life to a sprout that can break through the ground, coming out into the sunlight and growing until it becomes “the greatest of all shrubs” (Mk 4:32): the seed’s weakness is its strength, its breaking open is its power. Thus the Kingdom of God is like this: a humanly small reality, made up of those who are poor in heart, of those who do not rely on their own power but on that of the love of God, on those who are not important in the world’s eyes; and yet it is through them that Christ’s power bursts in and transforms what is seemingly insignificant.

The image of the seed is especially dear to Jesus, because it clearly expresses the mystery of the Kingdom of God. In today’s two parables it represents “growth” and “contrast”: the growth that occurs thanks to an innate dynamism within the seed itself and the contrast that exists between the minuscule size of the seed and the greatness of what it produces.

The message is clear: even though the Kingdom of God demands our collaboration, it is first and foremost a gift of the Lord, a grace that precedes man and his works. If our own small strength, apparently powerless in the face of the world’s problems, is inserted in that of God it fears no obstacles because the Lord’s victory is guaranteed. It is the miracle of the love of God who causes every seed of good that is scattered on the ground to germinate. And the experience of this miracle of love makes us optimists, in spite of the difficulty, suffering and evil that we encounter. The seed sprouts and grows because God’s love makes it grow. May the Virgin Mary, who, like “good soil”, accepted the seed of the divine Word, strengthen within us this faith and this hope.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 17 June 2012]

1. As we said in the previous catechesis, it is not possible to understand the origin of the Church without taking into account all that Jesus preached and worked (cf. Acts 1:1). And it was precisely on this subject that he addressed his disciples and left us all a fundamental teaching in the parables about the Kingdom of God. Among these, of particular importance are those that enunciate and make us discover the character of historical and spiritual development that is proper to the Church according to the plan of its Founder himself.

2. Jesus says: "The Kingdom of God is like a man who sows a seed in the earth: sleep or wake, night or day, the seed germinates and grows; how, he himself does not know. For the earth produces spontaneously, first the stalk, then the ear, then the full grain in the ear. When the fruit is ready, immediately you put your hand to the sickle, because the harvest has come" (Mk 4:26-29). So the Kingdom of God grows here on earth, in human history, by virtue of an initial sowing, that is, of a foundation, which comes from God, and of a mysterious working of God himself, which continues to cultivate the Church down the centuries. In God's work for the Kingdom, the sickle of sacrifice is also present: the development of the Kingdom is not achieved without suffering. This is the meaning of the parable in Mark's Gospel.

3. We also find the same concept in other parables, especially those gathered in Matthew's text (Mt 13:3-50).

"The kingdom of heaven," we read in this Gospel, "can be compared to a mustard seed, which a man takes and sows in his field. It is the smallest of all seeds, but when it has grown, it is larger than all the other seeds and becomes a tree, so that the birds of heaven nestle among its branches" (Mt 13:31). This is the growth of the kingdom in the "extensive" sense.

Another parable, on the other hand, shows its growth in an "intensive" or qualitative sense, comparing it to the yeast, which a woman took and mixed with three measures of flour so that it all fermented" (Mt 13:32).

4. In the parable of the sower and the sowing, the growth of the Kingdom of God certainly appears as the fruit of the work of the sower, but it is in relation to the soil and the climatic conditions that the sowing produces harvest: "where the hundred, where the sixty, where the thirty" (Mt 13:8). The soil means the inner readiness of men. Therefore, according to Jesus, the growth of the Kingdom of God is also conditioned by man. Human free will is responsible for this growth. This is why Jesus recommends to all to pray: "Thy kingdom come" (cf. Mt 6:10; Lk 11:2): it is one of the first questions of the Pater noster.

5. One of the parables narrated by Jesus on the growth of the Kingdom of God on earth makes us discover very realistically the character of struggle that the kingdom entails, due to the presence and action of an "enemy", who "sows the weeds (or grass) in the midst of the wheat". Jesus says that when "the harvest flourished and bore fruit, behold, the weeds also appeared". The servants of the master of the field would like to pluck it, but the master does not allow them to do so, "lest . . . uproot the wheat also. Let the one and the other grow together until the harvest, and at the time of the harvest I will say to the reapers, 'Harvest the darnel first and bind it in bundles to burn it; but the wheat put it in my barn' (Mt 13:24-30). This parable explains the coexistence and often the intertwining of good and evil in the world, in our lives, in the very history of the Church. Jesus teaches us to see things with Christian realism and to treat every problem with clarity of principles, but also with prudence and patience. This presupposes a transcendent vision of history, in which we know that everything belongs to God and every final outcome is the work of his Providence. However, the final fate - with an eschatological dimension - of the good and the bad is not hidden: it is symbolised by the harvesting of the wheat in the storehouse and the burning of the tares.

6. The explanation of the parable about sowing is given by Jesus himself, at the disciples' request (cf. Mt 13:36-43). In his words emerges both the temporal and eschatological dimension of the Kingdom of God.

He says to his own: "To you has been confided the mystery of the Kingdom of God" (Mk 4:11). About this mystery he instructs them and, at the same time, by his word and his work he "prepares for them a kingdom, just as the Father (Son) has prepared it for him" (cf. Lk 22:29). This preparation is continued even after his resurrection: we read in the Acts of the Apostles that "he appeared to them for forty days and spoke to them of the Kingdom of God" (cf. Acts 1:3) until the day when "he was taken up into heaven and sat down at the right hand of God (Mk 16:19). These were the last instructions and dispositions to the Apostles on what they had to do after the Ascension and Pentecost to give a concrete start to the Kingdom of God in the origin of the Church.

7. The words addressed to Peter at Caesarea Philippi are also part of the preaching about the kingdom. In fact, he says to him: "To you I will give the keys of the kingdom of heaven" (Mt 16:19), immediately after having called him a stone, on which he will build his Church, which will be invincible against "the gates of hell" (cf. Mt 16:18). It is a promise expressed then with the verb in the future tense: "I will build", because the definitive foundation of the Kingdom of God in this world was yet to be accomplished through the sacrifice of the Cross and the victory of the Resurrection. After that, Peter, with the other Apostles, will have the living consciousness of their calling to "proclaim the wonderful works of him who called them out of darkness into his admirable light" (cf. 1 Pet 2:9). At the same time, all will also have an awareness of the truth that emerges from the parable of the sower, namely that "neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but God who makes it grow", as St Paul wrote (1 Cor 3:7).

8. The author of the Book of Revelation expresses this same kingdom consciousness when he relates the song addressed to the Lamb: "You were slain and redeemed for God with your blood men of every tribe and tongue and people and nation, and you made them for our God a kingdom of priests" (Rev 5:9-10). The Apostle Peter specifies that they were constituted as such "to offer sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ" (cf. 1 Pet 2:5). These are all expressions of the truths learnt from Jesus who, in the parables about the sower and the sowing of the seed, about the growth of the wheat and the weeds, about the mustard seed that is sown and then becomes a fairly large plant, spoke of a Kingdom of God that, under the action of the Spirit, grows in souls thanks to the life force resulting from his death and resurrection: a kingdom that grows until the time foreseen by God himself.

9. "Then shall be the end," announces St Paul, "when he (Christ) shall deliver up the kingdom to God the Father, having reduced all principality and power and might to nothing" (1 Cor 15:24). For when "all things have been subdued to him, he also, the Son, will be subdued to him who has subdued all things to him, that God may be all in all" (1 Cor 15:28).

In an admirable eschatological perspective of the Kingdom of God is inscribed the existence of the Church from the beginning to the end, and its history unfolds from the first to the last day.

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 25 September 1991]

Today’s Gospel is composed of two very brief parables: that of the seed that sprouts and grows on its own, and that of the mustard seed (cf. Mk 4:26-34). Through these images taken from the rural world, Jesus presents the efficacy of the Word of God and the requirements of his Kingdom, showing the reasons for our hope and our commitment in history.

In the first parable, attention is placed on the fact that the seed scattered on the ground (v. 26) takes root and develops on its own, regardless of whether the farmer sleeps or keeps watch. He is confident in the inner power of the seed itself and in the fertility of the soil. In the language of the Gospel, the seed is the symbol of the Word of God, whose fruitfulness is recalled in this parable. As the humble seed grows in the earth, so too does the Word by the power of God work in the hearts of those who listen to it. God has entrusted his Word to our earth, that is to each one of us with our concrete humanity. We can be confident because the Word of God is a creative word, destined to become the “full grain in the ear” (v. 28). This Word, if accepted, certainly bears fruit, for God Himself makes it sprout and grow in ways that we cannot always verify or understand. (cf. v. 27). All this tells us that it is always God, it is always God who makes his Kingdom grow. That is why we fervently pray “thy Kingdom come”. It is He who makes it grow. Man is his humble collaborator, who contemplates and rejoices in divine creative action and waits patiently for its fruits.

The Word of God makes things grow, it gives life. And here, I would like to remind you once again, of the importance of having the Gospel, the Bible, close at hand. A small Gospel in your purse, in your pocket and to nourish yourselves every day with this living Word of God. Read a passage from the Gospel every day, a passage from the Bible. Please don’t ever forget this. Because this is the power that makes the life of the Kingdom of God sprout within us.

The second parable uses the image of the mustard seed. Despite being the smallest of all the seeds, it is full of life and grows until it becomes “the greatest of all shrubs” (Mk 4:32). And thus is the Kingdom of God: a humanly small and seemingly irrelevant reality. To become a part of it, one must be poor of heart; not trusting in their own abilities, but in the power of the love of God; not acting to be important in the eyes of the world, but precious in the eyes of God, who prefers the simple and the humble. When we live like this, the strength of Christ bursts through us and transforms what is small and modest into a reality that leavens the entire mass of the world and of history.

An important lesson comes to us from these two parables: God’s Kingdom requires our cooperation, but it is above all the initiative and gift of the Lord. Our weak effort, seemingly small before the complexity of the problems of the world, when integrated with God’s effort, fears no difficulty. The victory of the Lord is certain: his love will make every seed of goodness present on the ground sprout and grow. This opens us up to trust and hope, despite the tragedies, the injustices, the sufferings that we encounter. The seed of goodness and peace sprouts and develops, because the merciful love of God makes it ripen.

May the Holy Virgin, who like “fertile ground” received the seed of the divine Word, sustain us in this hope which never disappoints.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 14 June 2015]

(Mk 4: 21-25)

Mk's is a narrative and popular catechesis, which reflects the problems of a very primitive community of Faith - compared to those of the other Gospels.

His way of expressing is correlative to these unsophisticated origins.

At the time, still in Rome there was a strong debate within the churches on essential issues.

Some believers clung to the mummified mentality of the mighty Messiah, who should have descended like a bolt of lightning and remained to himself.

A glorious King, comparable to the emperor, who ensured victories for his own. Solving every problem in a disruptive and immediate way.

Those who read the Scriptures with such criteria - or even as a scarcely popular text (v.22), to be interpreted in small doses, mysterious, cerebral, moralistic;  typical - they made it difficult to internalize the meaning of the new Teaching. And to be well disposed in the real confrontation with the inevitable risks of the evangelical truth.

The Message of Christ, on the other hand, opens up to the uninterrupted apostolate; also troubled. And it must be proclaimed at the face of the world, otherwise the Spirit does not let loose within the disciple, nor does it work outside of him..

The Proclamation brings with it the awareness of having received much, and of having been introduced without conditions of perfection into the Secret of God;  therefore, with the desire that everyone be part of it.

In Mc the language of the parables and of the images that the Lord uses to make his teaching explicit convey the sense of a non-esoteric or difficult to decipher reading of the things of the Kingdom of God - always lead back into the normal elements of life.

By transmitting Christ also in the new way that the Magisterium [practical and broad] is teaching us, we open up the secrets of the Father (v.22) - no longer tied to glosses, nor bound by fashions and reworked opinions on customs, or pious advice.

Of course, those who update and remain attentive, push forward.

No one will be surprised that the tacticians, the unwilling, or the nostalgic who linger and remain entrenched in their positions [ancient or latest] end up extinguishing their impact and gradually disappearing from the scene (vv.24-25).

The «lamp» that Comes and 'orients in the darkness of the evening' is only the Word of God, which is not to be smothered with customs or à la page ideas.

In the dark it must always be on, that is, it cannot remain closed in a book (v.21).

It is a ‘lantern that lights up’ only when it is combined with life - and with a non-triumphalist reading key, nor with a fixed circuit (v.21).

If not, it remains ambivalent (vv. 23-24). We must pay close attention to the codes with which we interpret Scripture, and our own impulses or prejudices.

Often entrenched [or spineless] ideas deflect the understanding of the meaning of events, the emotions they arouse, and the very Person of the Son of God.

Hers is an ‘outSize Light’ - which break in with the inevitable risk of the evangelical fragrance.

«Measure» that has no “limit”. Disproportion own, of the Announcement.

[Thursday 3rd wk. in O.T.  January 30, 2025]

The Risk of Truth

(Mk 4:21-25)

That of Mk is a narrative and popular catechesis, reflecting the problems of a very primitive community of Faith - compared to those of the other Gospels.

Its manner of expression is correlative to such unsophisticated (only practical and ordinary) origins.

Identifying Lao Tse's thought, Master Ho-shang Kung confesses: 'Since I do not see the form and appearance of the Way, I do not know by what name it is fitting to call it' (commentary on the Tao Tê Ching xxv,7-8).

At the time, there was still a strong debate within the churches in Rome on essential issues: Who is God and how to honour Him? What is the right relationship with Tradition? And between doctrine and life? How to realise oneself and love?

To be free ... must one give up everything, or change one's mind? How to face persecution? Is there room for Dreams? Who guides us? What to do with spontaneous nature? How to deal with institutions and the distant? And so on.

Some of the faithful remained attached to the mummified mentality of the mighty Messiah, who was supposed to descend like lightning and stay to himself.

A glorious king, comparable to the emperor, who would ensure victories for his people. He solved every problem in a disruptive and immediate way.

Those who read the Scriptures with such a criterion - or even as a scarcely popular text (v.22), to be interpreted in small doses, mysterious, cerebral, moralistic; typical - had difficulty internalising the sense of the new Teaching. And to be well prepared for the real confrontation with the inevitable risks of the gospel truth.

The Message of Christ, on the other hand, opens one up to an uninterrupted apostolate; even a troubled one. And it must be proclaimed in the face of the world, otherwise the Spirit will not be unleashed within the disciple, nor will it work outside him.

The proclamation brings with it an awareness of having received much, and of having been introduced unconditionally into the Secret of God; hence, with the desire for all to share in it.

In Mk, the language of the parables and images that the Lord uses to make his teaching explicit convey the sense of an interpretation that is neither esoteric nor difficult to decipher of the things of the Kingdom of God - always placed within the normal elements of life.

By transmitting Christ (also in the new way that the Magisterium is teaching us, practical and broad) we open up the secrets of the Father (v.22) - no longer bound by chicanery, or reworked opinions on customs, or pious advice.

Certainly, those who keep up to date and remain attentive, advance. No one will be surprised that the unwilling or nostalgic who linger and remain entrenched in their positions end up extinguishing their influence and gradually disappearing from the scene (vv.24-25).

The "lamp" that comes and directs in the darkness of the evening is only the Word of God, which is not to be suffocated with custom.

In the darkness it must always be lit, that is, it cannot remain closed in a book (v.21).

It is a lamp that only illuminates when it is united with life - and with a key that is neither triumphalist nor fixed (v.21).

Otherwise, it remains ambivalent (vv.23-24). We must be very careful about the codes with which we interpret Scripture, and our own impulses or prejudices.

Ingrained ideas often deflect our understanding of the meaning of events, the emotions they arouse, and the very Person of the Son of God.

Even today, some willing readers of the Bible remain hampered by hasty and one-sided ways of understanding, or cerebral thoughts, cultivated within clubs of supposedly chosen ones called apart.

Sometimes we remain conditioned by grand narratives (all in all conformist); by roundabout, disembodied, more or less sought-after options - even ecclesial ones. Some in the form of dynastic privileges and banal fanaticism, which threaten life in Christ with serious errors.

The Mystery of the Kingdom is not a monopoly that some narrow and demarcated caste can afford to jealously guard.

It is, on the contrary, like a Light that transcends any chosen language, overcoming hierontocracies, circles and oligarchies that would claim to hijack it - and with it hold the living Jesus hostage as well.

"Man is the being-limit that has no limit" (Fratelli Tutti n.150). Our burning desire, the founding Eros that impassions our soul, cannot be normalised, subjected to clichés.

In the itinerancy of the homo viator, the Word-Logos and the Word-event of the divine already in us becomes Clarity, the horizon of Life. It comes to illustrate, support and motivate every personalistic anthropology of the threshold and the beyond.

In short, the Principle that breaks through and calls is like an impulse beyond measure.

"And he said to them: Be careful what you listen to. By the measure with which you measure it will be measured to you, and it will be added to you. For whoever has will be given to him, and whoever does not have even what he has will be taken away from him" (vv.24-25).Disproportionality proper to the Gospel:

The Gospel cannot lose its fragrance, because the Friend penetrates our condition of finitude to make himself a virtue of ever new search.

Motive and Engine of Growth - with the inevitable risk of truth, which has no limit.

To internalise and live the message:

What is your unconditioned but luminous and growing form of active dedication?

In all churches, in cathedrals and religious houses, wherever the faithful gather to celebrate the Easter Vigil, that holiest of all nights begins with the lighting of the Paschal candle, whose light is then passed on to all who are present. One tiny flame spreads out to become many lights and fills the darkness of God’s house with its brightness. This wonderful liturgical rite, which we have imitated in our prayer vigil tonight, reveals to us in signs more eloquent than words the mystery of our Christian faith. He, Christ, who says of himself: “I am the light of the world” (Jn 8:12), causes our lives to shine brightly, so that what we have just heard in the Gospel comes true: “You are the light of the world” (Mt 5:14). It is not our human efforts or the technical progress of our era that brings light into this world. Again and again we experience how our striving to bring about a better and more just world hits against its limits. Innocent suffering and the ultimate fact of death awaiting every single person are an impenetrable darkness which may perhaps, through fresh experiences, be lit up for a moment, as if through a flash of lightning at night. In the end, though, a frightening darkness remains.

While all around us there may be darkness and gloom, yet we see a light: a small, tiny flame that is stronger than the seemingly powerful and invincible darkness. Christ, risen from the dead, shines in this world and he does so most brightly in those places where, in human terms, everything is sombre and hopeless. He has conquered death – he is alive – and faith in him, like a small light, cuts through all that is dark and threatening. To be sure, those who believe in Jesus do not lead lives of perpetual sunshine, as though they could be spared suffering and hardship, but there is always a bright glimmer there, lighting up the path that leads to fullness of life (cf. Jn 10:10). The eyes of those who believe in Christ see light even amid the darkest night and they already see the dawning of a new day.

Light does not remain alone. All around, other lights are flaring up. In their gleam, space acquires contours, so that we can find our bearings. We do not live alone in this world. And it is for the important things of life that we have to rely on other people. Particularly in our faith, then, we do not stand alone, we are links in the great chain of believers. Nobody can believe unless he is supported by the faith of others, and conversely, through my faith, I help to strengthen others in their faith. We help one another to set an example, we give others a share in what is ours: our thoughts, our deeds, our affections. And we help one another to find our bearings, to work out where we stand in society.

Dear friends, the Lord says: “I am the light of the world – you are the light of the world.” It is mysterious and wonderful that Jesus applies the same predicate to himself and to all of us together, namely “light”. If we believe that he is the Son of God, who healed the sick and raised the dead, who rose from the grave himself and is truly alive, then we can understand that he is the light, the source of all the lights of this world. On the other hand, we experience more and more the failure of our efforts and our personal shortcomings, despite our good intentions. In the final analysis, the world in which we live, in spite of its technical progress, does not seem to be getting any better. There is still war and terror, hunger and disease, bitter poverty and merciless oppression. And even those figures in our history who saw themselves as “bringers of light”, but without being fired by Christ, the one true light, did not manage to create an earthly paradise, but set up dictatorships and totalitarian systems, in which even the smallest spark of true humanity is choked.

At this point we cannot remain silent about the existence of evil. We see it in so many places in this world; but we also see it – and this scares us – in our own lives. Truly, within our hearts there is a tendency towards evil, there is selfishness, envy, aggression. Perhaps with a certain self-discipline all this can to some degree be controlled. But it becomes more difficult with faults that are somewhat hidden, that can engulf us like a thick fog, such as sloth, or laziness in willing and doing good. Again and again in history, keen observers have pointed out that damage to the Church comes not from her opponents, but from uncommitted Christians. “You are the light of the world”: only Christ can say: “I am the light of the world.”  All of us can be light only if we stand within the “you” that, through the Lord, is forever becoming light.  And just as the Lord warns us that salt can become tasteless, so too he weaves a gentle warning into his saying about light.  Instead of placing the light on a lampstand, one can hide it under a bushel.  Let us ask ourselves: how often do we hide God’s light through our sloth, through our stubbornness, so that it cannot shine out through us into the world?

Dear friends, Saint Paul in many of his letters does not shrink from calling his contemporaries, members of the local communities, “saints”. Here it becomes clear that every baptized person – even before he or she can accomplish good works – is sanctified by God. In baptism the Lord, as it were, sets our life alight with what the Catechism calls sanctifying grace. Those who watch over this light, who live by grace, are holy.

Dear friends, again and again the very notion of saints has been caricatured and distorted, as if to be holy meant to be remote from the world, naive and joyless. Often it is thought that a saint has to be someone with great ascetic and moral achievements, who might well be revered, but could never be imitated in our own lives. How false and discouraging this opinion is! There is no saint, apart from the Blessed Virgin Mary, who has not also known sin, who has never fallen. Dear friends, Christ is not so much interested in how often in our lives we stumble and fall, as in how often with his help we pick ourselves up again. He does not demand glittering achievements, but he wants his light to shine in you. He does not call you because you are good and perfect, but because he is good and he wants to make you his friends. Yes, you are the light of the world because Jesus is your light. You are Christians – not because you do special and extraordinary things, but because he, Christ, is your life, our life. You are holy, we are holy, if we allow his grace to work in us.

Dear friends, this evening as we gather in prayer around the one Lord, we sense the truth of Christ’s saying that the city built on a hilltop cannot remain hidden. This gathering shines in more ways than one – in the glow of innumerable lights, in the radiance of so many young people who believe in Christ. A candle can only give light if it lets itself be consumed by the flame. It would remain useless if its wax failed to nourish the fire. Allow Christ to burn in you, even at the cost of sacrifice and renunciation. Do not be afraid that you might lose something and, so to speak, emerge empty-handed at the end. Have the courage to apply your talents and gifts for God’s kingdom and to give yourselves – like candlewax – so that the Lord can light up the darkness through you. Dare to be glowing saints, in whose eyes and hearts the love of Christ beams and who thus bring light to the world. I am confident that you and many other young people here in Germany are lamps of hope that do not remain hidden. “You are the light of the world”. Where God is, there is a future! Amen.

[Pope Benedict, Vigil in Freiburg 24 September 2011]