IV Sunday in Advent (year A)  [21 December 2025]

May God bless us and the Virgin protect us! As we approach Christmas, the Word of God reminds us of the Lord's faithfulness even when the unfaithfulness of his people might weary him (first reading). The Gospel introduces us to Saint Joseph, the man who silently accepts and fulfils his mission as father of the Son of God. 

*First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah (7:10-14)

It is around 735 BC. The kingdom of David has been divided into two states for two centuries: Samaria in the north and Jerusalem in the south, where Ahaz, a young king of twenty, reigns. The political situation is dramatic: the Assyrian empire, with its capital at Nineveh, dominates the region; the kings of Damascus and Samaria, already defeated by the Assyrians, now rebel and besiege Jerusalem to replace Ahaz with an allied ruler. The king panics: 'the heart of the king and the heart of the people were agitated like the trees of the forest by the wind' (Isaiah 7:2). The prophet Isaiah invites him to calm down and have faith: God has promised to keep David's dynasty alive; stability depends on trust in the Lord: if you do not believe, you will not remain steadfast. But Ahaz does not listen: he turns to idols and goes so far as to commit an atrocious act forbidden by the prophets, sacrificing his only son by passing him through the fire (cf. 2 Kings 16:3). He then decides to ask Assyria for help, a choice that entails the loss of political and religious independence. Isaiah strongly opposes this: it is a betrayal of the Covenant and of the liberation that began with Moses. In this context, Isaiah offers a sign: "Ask for a sign from the Lord your God." Ahaz responds hypocritically, pretending humility by not asking for it so as not to tempt the Lord, while he has already decided to entrust himself to Assyria. Isaiah replies rather harshly, saying not to weary 'my God', as if to indicate that Ahaz has now placed himself outside the Covenant. Despite the king's unfaithfulness, God remains faithful and, says Isaiah, 'the Lord himself will give you a sign': the young woman (the queen) is pregnant and the child will be called Immanuel, 'God with us'. This message from Isaiah is one of the classic texts of biblical messianism. Neither the enemies nor the king's sin can nullify the promise made by God to David. The child – probably the future king Hezekiah – will know how to choose good thanks to the Spirit of the Lord, and even before he grows up, the threat from Samaria and Damascus will disappear. In fact, shortly afterwards, the two kingdoms are destroyed by the Assyrians. Human freedom remains intact, and even Hezekiah will make mistakes; but Isaiah's prophecy affirms that nothing can prevent God's faithfulness to David's descendants. For this reason, throughout the centuries, Israel will wait for a king who will fully realise the name of Immanuel. The birth of the child is more than good news: it is an announcement of forgiveness. By sacrificing his son to the god Moloch, Ahaz compromised the promise made to David; but God does not withdraw his commitment. The birth of the new heir shows that God's faithfulness surpasses the unfaithfulness of men. The 'sign' thus takes on another encouraging messianic dimension, which we see more clearly in this Sunday's Gospel. 

Important elements to remember: +Historical context: 735 BC, divided kingdom, threats from Syria, Samaria and Assyria. +Ahaz's panic and Isaiah's invitation to faith. +Serious unfaithfulness of the king: idolatry and sacrifice of his son. +Wrong political choice: alliance with Assyria. +Isaiah's sign: birth of the child called Immanuel. +Immediate fulfilment: destruction of Syria and Samaria by Assyria. +Central theme: the unfaithfulness of men does not nullify God's faithfulness. +Birth as an announcement of forgiveness and continuity of the Davidic promise.

Responsorial Psalm (23/24, 1-2, 3-4, 5-6)

The psalm takes us to the temple in Jerusalem: a great procession arrives at the gates and two choirs dialogue, asking: 'Who may ascend the mountain of the Lord? Who may stand in his holy place?' The image recalls Isaiah, who describes the thrice-holy God as a consuming fire before which no one could 'stand' without his help. The people of Israel have discovered that this totally 'Other' God also becomes the totally 'near' God, allowing man to remain in his presence. The psalm's answer is: 'Those who have clean hands and a pure heart, who do not turn to idols'. This is not primarily a matter of moralism, because the people know that they are admitted before God by grace, not by their own merit. Here, 'pure heart' means an undivided heart, turned solely to the one God; 'innocent hands' are hands that have not offered sacrifices to idols. The expression 'does not turn/literally does not lift up his soul' indicates not turning to empty deities: 'lifting up one's eyes' in the Bible means invoking, praying, recognising someone as God. This verse recalls the prophets' great struggle against idolatry. Isaiah had already opposed Ahaz in the eighth century; and even during the Exile in Babylon, the people - immersed in a polytheistic culture - were tempted to return to idols. The psalm, sung after the Exile, reminds us that the first condition of the Covenant is to remain faithful to the one God. Seeking the face of God is an image taken from the language of the court: only those who are faithful to the King can be admitted into his presence. Idols are defined as 'empty gods': Psalm 115 masterfully describes their nullity – they have eyes, mouths, hands, but they do not see, speak or act. Unlike these statues, God is alive and truly works. Fidelity to the one God is therefore the condition for receiving the blessing promised to the fathers and for entering into his plan of salvation. This is why Jesus will say: 'No one can serve two masters' (Matthew 6:24).

This fidelity, however, does not remain abstract: it concretely transforms life. The pure heart becomes a heart of flesh capable of eliminating hatred and violence; innocent hands become hands incapable of doing evil. The psalm says: "He will obtain blessing from the Lord, justice from God his salvation": this means both conforming to God's plan and living in right relationship with others. Here we already glimpse the light of the Beatitudes: Blessed are the pure of heart, for they will see God... blessed are those who hunger and thirst for justice. The expression 'lift up your eyes', expressed here as 'those who do not turn to idols' (v. 4), returns in Zechariah and in the Gospel of John: 'They will look on the one they have pierced' (Jn 19:37), a sign of a new encounter with God.

Important elements to remember: +Scene in the temple with the dialogue of the choirs. +God is thrice holy and at the same time close: he allows man to 'stand' before him. +'Pure heart' and 'innocent hands' as fidelity to the one God, not idolatry and the prophets' constant struggle against idolatry (Ahaz, Exile). +Idols as 'empty gods'; criticism of Psalm 115. +Fidelity to the one God as the first condition of the Covenant, which has as its ethical consequences a righteous life, a renewed heart, and non-violent hands. 

Second Reading from the Letter of St Paul to the Romans (1:1-7)

St Paul opens his letter to the Romans by summarising the whole Christian faith: the promises contained in the Scriptures, the mystery of Christ, his birth and resurrection, the free election of the holy people and the mission of the Apostles to the pagan nations. Writing to a community he has not yet met, Paul introduces himself with two titles: 'servant of Jesus Christ and apostle by calling', that is, sent, one who acts by mandate. He immediately attributes to Jesus the title of Christ, which means Messiah: to say 'Jesus Christ' is to profess that Jesus of Nazareth is the expected Messiah. Paul claims to have been 'chosen to proclaim the Gospel of God', the Good News: proclaiming the Gospel means proclaiming that God's plan is totally benevolent and that this plan is fulfilled in Jesus Christ. This Good News, says Paul, had already been promised in the prophets. Without the Old Testament, one cannot understand the New Testament because God's plan is unique, revealed progressively throughout history. The Resurrection of Christ is the centre of history, the heart of the divine plan from the beginning, as Paul also recalls in his letter to the Ephesians, where he speaks of God's will to recapitulate all things in Christ (Eph 1:9-10). 'According to the flesh': Jesus is a descendant of David, therefore a true man and Messiah. "According to the Spirit": Jesus is constituted Son of God "with power" through his Resurrection, and in the Resurrection God enthrones him as King of the new humanity. For Paul, this is the event that changes history because "if Christ has not been raised, then your faith is futile" (cf. 1 Cor 15:14). For this reason, he proclaims the Resurrection everywhere, so that "the name of Jesus Christ may be recognised", as he also writes in his letter to the Philippians (2:9-11), God has given him the Name above every other name, that of "Lord". Paul feels that his apostolic mission is "to bring about the obedience of faith in all peoples". "Obedience" is not servility, but trusting listening: it is the attitude of the child who trusts in the Father's love and welcomes his Word. Paul concludes with his typical greeting: 'Grace to you and peace from God', which is expressed in the priestly blessing in the Book of Numbers: grace and peace always come from God, but it is up to man to accept them freely.

Most important elements to remember: +Summary of the Christian faith: the promises are fulfilled in Christ, in the Resurrection, election and mission. +Paul's titles are servant and apostle, while the title 'Christ' is 'Messiah', which is a profession of faith. +The Gospel is God's merciful plan fulfilled in Christ. +Unity between the Old and New Testaments and Christ in his identity 'according to the flesh' and 'according to the Spirit': he is at the centre of God's plan from the beginning. +The Resurrection is the decisive event, and 'obedience of faith' is trusting listening. +Final blessing: grace and peace, in human freedom.

From the Gospel according to Matthew (1:18-24) 

Matthew opens his Gospel with the expression: "Genealogy of Jesus Christ", that is, the book of the genesis of Jesus Christ, and presents a long genealogy that demonstrates Joseph's Davidic descent. Following the formula "A begot B", Matthew arrives at Joseph, but breaks with the pattern: he cannot say "Joseph begot Jesus"; instead, the evangelist writes: "Jacob begot Joseph, the husband of Mary, of whom was born Jesus, who is called Christ" (Mt 1:16). This formula shows that the genealogy undergoes a change: for Jesus to be included in the line of David, his birth is not enough; Joseph must adopt him. The Son of God, in a certain sense, entrusts himself to the freedom of a man: the divine plan depends on Joseph's 'yes'. We are familiar with the Annunciation to Mary in Luke's Gospel, which is widely represented in art. Much less represented, however, is the Annunciation to Joseph, even though it is decisive: the human story of Jesus begins thanks to the free acceptance of a righteous man. The angel calls Joseph 'son of David' and reveals to him the mystery of Jesus' sonship: conceived by the Holy Spirit, yet recognised as his son. 'Do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife' means that Jesus will enter Joseph's house, and it will be he who will give him his name. Matthew also explains the meaning of the name Jesus: it means 'The Lord saves'. His mission is not only to free Israel from human power, but to save his people from sin. In Jewish tradition, the expectation of the Messiah included a total renewal: new creation, justice and peace. Matthew sees all this encapsulated in the name of Jesus. The text specifies: 'the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit'. There are two accounts of the virgin birth: this one by Matthew (Annunciation to Joseph) and the one by Luke (Annunciation to Mary). The Church professes this truth as an article of faith: Jesus is both true man, born of a woman, included in the lineage of David thanks to Joseph's free choice; and true Son of God, conceived by the Holy Spirit. Matthew links all this to Isaiah's prophecy: "The virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel, which means 'God-with-us'". The Greek translation of Isaiah (Septuagint), which Matthew quotes, uses the term 'virgin' (parthenos), while the Hebrew text uses almah, which means 'young woman' who is not yet married: even the ancient translation reflected the belief that the Messiah would be born of a virgin. Matthew insists: the child will be called Jesus (the Lord saves), but the prophet calls him Emmanuel (God-with-us). This is not a contradiction: at the end of Matthew's Gospel, Jesus will say, 'I am with you always, even unto the end of the world' (Mt 28:20). His name and his mission coincide: to save means to be with man, to accompany him, never to abandon him. Joseph believed and welcomed the presence of God. As Elizabeth said to Mary, 'Blessed is she who believed' (Lk 1:45), so we can say, 'Blessed is Joseph who believed: thanks to him, God was able to fulfil his plan of salvation'. Matthew uses the word "genesis" twice (Mt 1:1, 18), as in the book of Genesis when speaking of the descendants of Adam. This suggests that the entire history of humanity is recapitulated in Jesus: he is the New Adam, as St Paul will say.

Most important elements to remember: Break in the genealogy: Jesus is not "begotten" by Joseph but through adoption fulfils the plan of salvation. Joseph's freedom is fundamental in the fulfilment of God's plan. Title "son of David" and Joseph's legal role. Name of Jesus = "The Lord saves" mission of salvation from sins. +Virgin conception: mystery of faith, true man and true Son of God. +Quotation from Isaiah 7:14 according to the Greek translation ("virgin"). +Jesus and Emmanuel: salvation as the constant presence of God. +Parallel with Elizabeth's beatitude: Joseph's faith. +Jesus as the "New Adam" according to the reference to "Genesis".

Commentary by St Augustine, Sermon 51, on the Incarnation

"Joseph was greater in silence than many in speech: he believed the angel, accepted the mystery, protected what he did not fully understand. In him we see how faith does not consist in understanding everything, but in trusting God who works in secret." Augustine thus emphasises Joseph's unique role: his faith is trusting obedience; he welcomes Christ without possessing him; he becomes the guardian of the mystery that saves the world.

+Giovanni D'Ercole

(Lk 1:46-55)

The hymn-song-ensemble of Mary and Elizabeth summarizes and celebrates the history of salvation. It reflects a Judeo-Christian liturgical lauda characteristic of the first communities of 'anawim.

The small and faithful experience the ideal outline of history, of which they paradoxically become the engine.

The two Women give voice to the poor and minority churches, often challenged by the forces of imperial power in dramatic duels.

They depict early assemblies, tiny fraternities; hearths of cohabitation and intimate life.

In them, believing souls experienced a God who does not remain impassive to the cry of the lowly, persecuted.

In a framework of family visitation and (precisely) praise, the whole destination of the new People is reflected.

The difference between the two figures emphasizes the leap of Faith in Mary, compared to the expectations of religious kinship.

In Elizabeth, the First Covenant has already run its full course, and would not go much further.

Human history is barren, but God makes it fruitful with newness and joy, which finally changes the boundaries.

The foreseen ways have come to an end; still blind and submissive to the powers of the earth... They do not make the weak strong.

Faith entirely transmutes the foundations of anti-divine history, because it allows the Spirit to take possession of personal life and fertilize it, making it capable of blessing action.

In Mary's way of believing we grasp within what do not know - because we have a guiding Vision, a sacred image that acts inside, like an innate instinct.

And we already possess what we hope for - because Faith is a stroke of the hand, an action that appropriates, an act-magnet (cf. Heb 11:1).

[Its pinnacle is discovering impossible recovery stupors, starting with the shadowy sides and even that we hate of ourselves - very affair of the discarded].

The Hymn thus expresses the trajectory of the believer's life and the direction of our existence, which recomposes the shaky being in the new harmony of the divine plan.

A classical thesis already from the First Testament: God lifts the wretched from the dust and raises the poor from the rubbish.

He does not address those who are full of themselves, but to whoever  knows how to turn to the depths, and like Mary how to extend them to others.

Within this event of losing oneself in order to find oneself - a logic embodied by both the disciples and the churches - we find the experience of Easter morning.

Lk evangelist of the poor celebrates this reversal of situations in many episodes of people and events at the margins.

The Magnificat also reiterates: the Lord's choices are truly eccentric. Freely He passes for the defeated and the mocked, who find gain in loss and life from death.

Mary in particular becomes an expressive figure of baseness [ταπείνωσις (tapeínōsis, “lowering”), from ταπεινός (tapeinós, “low”); v.48] as the ‘root’ of the transformation of being - into the Unpredictable of God.

He is Faithful.

[Weekday Liturgy, December 22]

(Lk 1:39-45)

'Incarnation': if our gaze does not fixate on a few ideas but lightly begins to rest on the human condition, then a reign of peace begins.

The hesitant crowd in the ancient coat of arms can rejoice, because that faint but decisive Presence arrives that liberates and gives us breath.

Unusual opportunity for redemption on the scale of women and men, even children.

The people have a Dream: to grasp their identity and mission, despite the religion of mediocrity, of abuse - sullen looks and fears.

Mary helps each one to understand how to substitute the caress of a heart of flesh for so many extraneous prescriptions on cold stone slabs.

Her peace-shalom is not wished on the practitioner of the sacred. He omits the oneness of the Call, the Surprise, the Person.

Zechariah does not live Beatitudes: he is already identified, therefore radically unbelieving.

The great reminiscences and his typical role make him refractory to the Newness of the Spirit.

It is useless even to speak to him, although he is master of the House in which the Promises are 'remembered'. A habit of remembrance that now waits for nothing.

The decisive Encounter? Perhaps there will be... but who knows when.

Mythical waiting distracts, it does not involve. Idolatrous re-actualisation does not cheer; it stares, it does not make one dance.

The feast is a sign that the Lord has come to the family; not on the set, really. [It is not easy to understand this in the time of externality].

Mary does not aspire to be and show herself to be a 'VIP'; she places herself spontaneously among ordinary people, who suffer a painful condition.

She does not chase after projects, her previous ideas, some constrained tic that bounces around in her thinking. This is the purity of Mary.

Those who resemble her have no need to beg or display recognition, achievements, credentials, titles, merits. This is her purity.

She did not misunderstand God by exchanging him for appearances. She did not allow herself to be caged by clichés, because she did not hinder her unrepeatable identity by thinking she was wrong.

With a silent mind and detachment from judgement she allowed her vocational instinct to regenerate, conceive, give life.

She did not pursue an ideal, weightless (and meaningless) image, as if she were cast in a character - and conformist.

If she corrected herself, she did not do so by folding in on herself, but by overtaking and pulling straight; thus she discovered how to adjust, but to fly.

Everything did not go well for him, as if he already had the film of his life in his head. He had hiding places and doubts, travails to overcome.

He didn't think, he didn't speak, he didn't act as if he were 'infinite'; but decisively, yes.

She was not always successful, and yet she did not retract just veraciously.

She faced conflicts, yet without those mental burdens that bridle us with fixations [even sacred ones] that God does not care about, and block the way.

In events and within herself she seized moments of insecurity to remind herself of the Pearl to be sifted.

A passionate search that kept her alive, knowing that things of the soul are different.

She was not a do-gooder saint, she waged battles - and with spiritual denunciation.

In fact, she did not ask for permission to embark on a daring journey.

Nor does she 'see' the man of the official institution: the priest with his rituals punctuated in minute detail.

Instead, he recognises himself in Elizabeth. She too is a forgotten one, but one who cultivates the promise ("Eli-shébet": the Lord My-Personal has 'sworn'; as in "God is faithful to Me").

Zechariah, on the other hand ("zachar-Ja" the Lord yes but not 'My' but of Israel, 'remember') fails to move from regular religiosity to Faith involving his founding Eros.

Mary did not want to be fake, she did not wish to become artificial - therefore useless, and in time shattered.

She aspired to plant herself further and better on her own Roots.

If she couldn't understand something, she used these suspensions to project herself forward, in search of the precious treasure chest of her destination.

He gave no space to the toxins of the mind created by dreamless habit, by the paradigms of his place and time. She did not imagine that she would always remain the same.

She chose not to lay down the evolutionary side: she understood that she could be stimulated precisely by the bitterness, the abandonments, the impacts, the wounds.

Ark of the Covenant with visionary and viable intimacy, without (inside) icy tables of legalisms; because God does not express Himself by issuing rules, but in Love - which does not demolish.

He had with Heaven a relationship of Incarnation; not external and without Oneness [of stone as in intimidated obedience]. In its marrow: Resembling - from Equal to Equal.

From the religion of the many subordinates to the Faith?

Not a Church of the wedges: Mary is the new consciousness and the different orientation of humanity.

Magnificat: religious kinship, and the outburst of Faith

(Lk 1:46-55)

Although the Greek-language context of the earliest codices alludes to a canticle proper to Elisabeth (vv.42-46), later tradition placed the hymn on Mary's lips.

Their song-together summarises and celebrates the history of salvation. It reflects a Judeo-Christian liturgical lauda characteristic of the first communities of 'anawim.

[Today, as then, the small and faithful experience the ideal outline of history, of which they paradoxically become the engine].

Mary and Elizabeth give voice to the poor and minority 'churches', often challenged by the forces of imperial power in dramatic duels.

Fraternities that experienced a God who does not remain impassive to the cry of the persecuted least.

In a framework of family visitation and (indeed) praise, the whole destination of the new People is reflected.

The difference between the two women emphasises the outburst of Faith in Mary, as opposed to the expectations of religious 'kinship'.

In Elizabeth, the First Covenant has already run its full course, and would not go much further.

The history of men is barren, but the Eternal makes it fruitful with newness and joy, which finally changes the boundaries.

The planned ways have come to an end; still blind and subservient to the powers of the earth - self-divining...

But here it is revealed that the security of the great is vain, non-existent; seeking only profit.

And despite the millennia, there are still too many who clothe their positions with seemingly pious proclamations - insubstantial proclamations of love that helps and enriches the little ones, that make the weak strong.

Faith entirely transmutes the foundations of anti-divine history, because it allows the Spirit to take possession of personal life and fertilise it, making it capable of blessing action.

In Mary's way of believing we know what we do not know - because we have a guiding Vision, an Image that acts within like an innate instinct.

And we already possess what we hope for - because Faith is a stroke of the hand, an action that is appropriated, an act-calm (cf. Heb 11:1).

Its apex will be to discover impossible recovery stupors, starting from the shadowy and detested sides of us [the very discarded].

The hymn thus expresses the trajectory of the believer's life in Christ and the direction of our existence that little by little or suddenly recomposes the shaky being in the new harmony of the divine plan.

A classical thesis already from the First Testament: God lifts the wretched from the dust and raises the poor - the marginalised (with indifference) - from the rubbish.

He does not address himself to those who are full of themselves and with identified roles, but to those who know how to turn to the depths, and like Mary he extends them to others.

Within such a story of losing oneself in order to find oneself again - a logic embodied both by the disciples and the churches - is to be found the experience of Easter morning, whose Gospels 'describe' the Resurrection as the ability to see the tombs open and to discern life even amidst signs of absence, and in the place of death.

Lk evangelist of the poor celebrates this reversal of situations in many episodes: Pharisee and publican, prodigal son and firstborn, Samaritan and Levite priest, Lazarus and rich Epulon, first and last place, Beatitudes and 'troubles'...

The Magnificat also reiterates: the Lord's choices are truly whimsical for the religious nomenclature mentality.

Freely He passes for the defeated, the mocked, deemed stupid, ignoble; the weak, marginalised by cliques, rejected by the club of the acclaimed.

The canticle is a perfect 'type' of this predilection, which finds gain in loss and life from death, in people and events on the margins.

Mary in particular becomes an expressive figure of lowliness [ταπείνωσις (tapeínōsis, "lowering"), from ταπεινός (tapeinós, "low"); v.48 Greek text] as the 'root' of the transformation of being - in God's Unpredictable.

In Mary and Elizabeth the 'anawim contemplated the feast of the triumph of the children, of the creatures who repeat in themselves the Passover of Christ.

Happening and proposal that even in times of emergency makes life flourish again from the failure of the mythologies of power and force.

In the Risen One who always shows the wounds, believers everywhere have realised: the poverty of heart and life lived by Christ and the (Church) Mother is the true disruptive force of history.

God is faithful.

"My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit exults in God my Saviour, because he has turned his face to the lowliness of his handmaid" (Lk 1:46b-48a).

To internalise and live the message

Do you consider divine munificence a property?

How do you proclaim your personal and ecclesial awareness - of fulfilment in Christ - of the Covenant Promises?

Canticle of the Blessed Virgin

1. We have now arrived at the final destination of the long journey begun exactly five years ago in Spring 2001, by my beloved Predecessor, the unforgettable Pope John Paul II. In his Catecheses, the great Pope wanted to cover the whole sequence of the Psalms and Canticles that constitute the fundamental prayerful fabric of the Liturgy of Lauds and Vespers. Having now reached the end of this pilgrimage through the texts, similar to a stroll in a garden filled with flowers of praise, invocation, prayer and contemplation, let us now make room for that Canticle which seals in spirit every celebration of Vespers:  the Magnificat (Lk 1: 46-55).

It is a canticle that reveals in filigree the spirituality of the biblical anawim, that is, of those faithful who not only recognize themselves as "poor" in the detachment from all idolatry of riches and power, but also in the profound humility of a heart emptied of the temptation to pride and open to the bursting in of the divine saving grace. Indeed, the whole Magnificat, which we have just heard the Sistine Chapel Choir sing, is marked by this "humility", in Greek tapeinosis, which indicates a situation of material humility and poverty.

2. The first part of the Marian canticle (cf. Lk 1: 46-50) is a sort of solo voice that rises to Heaven to reach the Lord. The constant resonance of the first person should be noted:  "My soul... my spirit... my Saviour... has done great things for me... [they] will call me blessed...". So it is that the soul of the prayer is the celebration of the divine grace which has burst into the heart and life of Mary, making her Mother of the Lord. We hear the Virgin's own voice speaking of her Saviour who has done great things in her soul and body.

The intimate structure of her prayerful canticle, therefore, is praise, thanksgiving and grateful joy. But this personal witness is neither solitary nor intimistic, purely individualistic, because the Virgin Mother is aware that she has a mission to fulfil for humanity and her experience fits into the history of salvation.

She can thus say:  "And his mercy is on those who fear him from generation to generation" (v. 50). With this praise of the Lord, Our Lady gives a voice to all redeemed creatures, who find in her "fiat", and thus in the figure of Jesus, born of the Virgin, the mercy of God.

3. It is at this point that the second poetic and spiritual part of the Magnificat unfolds (cf. vv. 51-55). It has a more choral tone, almost as if the voices of the whole community of the faithful were associated with Mary's voice, celebrating God's amazing decision.

In the original Greek of Luke's Gospel, we have seven aorist verbs that indicate the same number of actions which the Lord carries out repeatedly in history:  "He has shown strength... he has scattered the proud... he has put down the mighty... he has exalted those of low degree... he has filled the hungry with good things... the rich he has sent empty away... he has helped... Israel".

In these seven divine acts, the "style" that inspires the behaviour of the Lord of history stands out:  he takes the part of the lowly. His plan is one that is often hidden beneath the opaque context of human events that see "the proud, the mighty and the rich" triumph.

Yet his secret strength is destined in the end to be revealed, to show who God's true favourites are:  "Those who fear him", faithful to his words:  "those of low degree", "the hungry", "his servant Israel"; in other words, the community of the People of God who, like Mary, consist of people who are "poor", pure and simple of heart. It is that "little flock" which is told not to fear, for the Lord has been pleased to give it his Kingdom (cf. Lk 12: 32). And this Canticle invites us to join the tiny flock and the true members of the People of God in purity and simplicity of heart, in God's love.

4. Let us therefore accept the invitation that St Ambrose, the great Doctor of the Church, addresses to us in his commentary on the text of the Magnificat:  "May Mary's soul be in each one to magnify the Lord, may Mary's spirit be in each one to rejoice in God; if, according to the flesh, the Mother of Christ is one alone, according to the faith all souls bring forth Christ; each, in fact, welcomes the Word of God within.... Mary's soul magnifies the Lord and her spirit rejoices in God because, consecrated in soul and spirit to the Father and to the Son, she adores with devout affection one God, from whom come all things and only one Lord, by virtue of whom all things exist" (Exposition of the Holy Gospel according to Saint Luke, 2: 26-27:  SAEMO, XI, Milan-Rome, 1978, p. 169).

In this marvellous commentary on the Magnificat by St Ambrose, I am always especially moved by the surprising words:  "If, according to the flesh the Mother of Christ is one alone, according to the faith all souls bring forth Christ:  indeed, each one intimately welcomes the Word of God". Thus, interpreting Our Lady's very words, the Holy Doctor invites us to ensure that the Lord can find a dwelling place in our own souls and lives. Not only must we carry him in our hearts, but we must bring him to the world, so that we too can bring forth Christ for our epoch. Let us pray the Lord to help us praise him with Mary's spirit and soul, and to bring Christ back to our world.

[Pope Benedict, General Audience 15 February 2006]

1. Inspired by the Old Testament tradition, with the canticle of the Magnificat Mary celebrates the wonders wrought in her by God. The canticle is the Virgin's response to the mystery of the Annunciation: the angel had invited her to rejoice, now Mary expresses the exultation of her spirit in God the Saviour. Her joy stems from her personal experience of God's benevolent gaze upon her, a poor and uninfluenced creature in history.

With the expression Magnificat, a Latin version of a Greek word of the same meaning, the greatness of God is celebrated, who with the angel's announcement reveals his omnipotence, exceeding the expectations and hopes of the people of the Covenant and even the noblest desires of the human soul.

Before the Lord, powerful and merciful, Mary expresses the feeling of her own littleness: "My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit exults in God, my Saviour, because he has looked upon the humility of his handmaid" (Lk 1:47-48). The Greek term 'tapéinosis' is probably borrowed from the canticle of Anna, mother of Samuel. It indicates the "humiliation" and "misery" of a barren woman (cf. 1 Sam 1:11), who entrusts her sorrow to the Lord. With such an expression, Mary makes known her situation of poverty and her awareness of being small before God who, with a gratuitous decision, laid his gaze on her, a humble girl from Nazareth, calling her to become the Mother of the Messiah.

2. The words "henceforth all generations shall call me blessed" (Lk 1:48) start from the fact that Elizabeth first proclaimed Mary "blessed" (Lk 1:45). Not without audacity, the canticle predicts that the same proclamation will extend and expand with unstoppable dynamism. At the same time, it testifies to the special veneration for the Mother of Jesus, present in the Christian community since the first century. The Magnificat constitutes the first fruits of the various expressions of worship, transmitted from one generation to the next, with which the Church manifests its love for the Virgin of Nazareth.

3. "Great things have the Almighty done in me, and holy is his name: from generation to generation his mercy is poured out on those who fear him" (Lk 1:49-50).

What are the "great things" wrought in Mary by the Almighty? The expression recurs in the Old Testament to indicate the deliverance of the people of Israel from Egypt or Babylon. In the Magnificat, it refers to the mysterious event of Jesus' virginal conception, which took place in Nazareth after the angel's announcement.

In the Magnificat, a truly theological canticle because it reveals Mary's experience of God's face, God is not only the Almighty to whom nothing is impossible, as Gabriel had declared (cf. Lk 1:37), but also the Merciful One, capable of tenderness and faithfulness towards every human being.

4. "He has unfolded the power of his arm, he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts; he has overthrown the mighty from their thrones, he has lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, he has sent the rich empty-handed" (Lk 1:51-53).

With her sapiential reading of history, Mary introduces us to discover the criteria of God's mysterious action. He, reversing the world's judgements, comes to the rescue of the poor and the little ones, to the detriment of the rich and the powerful and, in a surprising way, fills the humble with goods, who entrust their existence to him (cf. John Paul II, Redemptoris Mater, 37).

These words of the canticle, while showing us in Mary a concrete and sublime model, make us realise that it is above all humility of heart that attracts God's benevolence.

5. Finally, the canticle extols the fulfilment of the promises and God's faithfulness to the chosen people: 'He has come to the rescue of Israel, his servant, remembering his mercy, as he promised our fathers, for Abraham and his descendants, for ever' (Lk 1:54-55).

Filled with divine gifts, Mary does not stop her gaze at her personal case, but understands how these gifts are a manifestation of God's mercy for all his people. In her, God fulfils his promises with superabundant faithfulness and generosity.

Inspired by the Old Testament and the spirituality of the daughter of Zion, the Magnificat surpasses the prophetic texts at its origin, revealing in the 'full of grace' the beginning of a divine intervention that goes far beyond Israel's messianic hopes: the holy mystery of the Incarnation of the Word.

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 6 November 1996]

What does our Mother advise us? Today in the Gospel the first thing she says is: “My soul magnifies the Lord” (Lk 1:46). Accustomed to hearing these words, perhaps we no longer pay attention to their meaning. To “magnify” literally means “to make great”, to enlarge. Mary “aggrandises the Lord”: not problems, which she did not lack at the time, but the Lord. How often, instead, we let ourselves be overwhelmed by difficulties and absorbed by fears! Our Lady does not, because she puts God as the first greatness of life. From here the Magnificat springs forth, from here joy is born: not from the absence of problems, which come sooner or later, but joy is born from the presence of God who helps us, who is near us. Because God is great. And, above all, God looks on the lowly ones. We are His weakness of love: God looks on and loves the lowly.

Mary, in fact, acknowledges that she is small and exalts the “great things” (v. 49) the Lord has done for her. What are they? First and foremost, the unexpected gift of life: Mary is a virgin yet she becomes pregnant; and Elizabeth, too, who was elderly, is expecting a child. The Lord works wonders with those who are lowly, with those who do not believe that they are great but who give ample space to God in their life. He enlarges His mercy to those who trust in Him, and raises up the humble. Mary praises God for this.

And we - we might ask ourselves - do we remember to praise God? Do we thank Him for the great things He does for us? For every day that He gives us, because He always loves us and forgives us, for His tenderness? In addition, for having given us His Mother, for the brothers and sisters He puts on our path, and because He opened Heaven to us? Do we thank God, praise God for these things? If we forget the good, our hearts shrink. But if, like Mary, we remember the great things that the Lord does, if at least once a day we were to “magnify” Him, then we would take a great step forward. One time during the day to say: “I praise the Lord”, to say, “Blessed be the Lord”, which is a short prayer of praise. This is praising God. With this short prayer, our hearts will expand, joy will increase. Let us ask Our Lady, the Gate of Heaven, for the grace to begin each day by raising our eyes to Heaven, toward God, to say to Him: "Thank you!” as the lowly ones say to the great ones. “Thank you”.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 15 August 2020]

(Mt 1:18-24)

«Even through Joseph’s fears, God’s will, his history and his plan were at work. Joseph, then, teaches us that faith in God includes believing that he can work even through our fears, our frailties and our weaknesses. He also teaches us that amid the tempests of life, we must never be afraid to let the Lord steer our course. At times, we want to be in complete control, yet God always sees the bigger picture» [Patris Corde n.2].

Incarnation: the Father places himself alongside his sons and daughters. Not only He isn’t afraid of becoming impure in contact with things that concern human dynamics: in their Condition even recognizes Himself.

For this reason, the culmination of the entire Salvation Story springs from Joseph's embarrassment.

Sources attest that he was not at all a character with a lily in his hand, but perhaps this may interest us up to a certain point.

The narration of Mt is striking, because the distinction and the possibility of the irruption (of the summit itself) of God's plan on humanity seem to arise not from a certainty, but from a Doubt.

The question mark involves. Discomfort sows a new Germ inside. It tears and cuts down all the alike seedlings of the grass infesting the full Life - which was the chiseled Law on appearances.

The "problem" leads to dreaming of other horizons to open, and in the first person. Hesitation leads out of the mental cages that mortify relationships, previously reduced to casuistry.

The perplexity makes common opinion overlook, because conformity attenuates and extinguishes the Novelty of God.

Hesitation seeks existential fissures: it wants to introduce us into territories of life - where others can also draw on different experiences, varied perceptions, and moments in which to have decisive insights as a gift.

Its wise Energy finds gaps and small passages; it acts to make us evolve as children of Eternity - also arousing inconvenience, which flood existence of creative suspensions and new passion.

Its lucid Action is introduced through Dreams that shake off the usual projects, or states of mind that put them in the balance; and bottlenecks of marginalized thinking that makes us rediscover the reason we were born, discover our part in the world.

Every swing, every pain, every danger, every move, can become a ‘birth’ towards Originality - without identifications first.

Uniqueness doesn’t make us lose the Source that ‘watches’ in us. Woe to shirk: we would lose our destination.

The Spirit that slips into the crevices of standard mindsets finds an intimate spot that allows us to flourish differently now, able to bring out the essence of who we authentically are, and stop copying clichés.

Then we won't keep asking: Whose fault is it? How should we buffer the situation? Who should we lean on?. But rather: What is the new ‘life’ I have to explore? What is yet to be discovered?.

In fact, the bite of doubts does not make one become believer-garbage, as hypothesized in disciplined, legalistic religions - in puritan philosophies with artificial wisdom - vice versa friends, adopted sons [ie chosen] and heirs.

Thanks to the Relation of Faith, we are no longer lost in the desert - because the many things and the hazards become dialogue of specific weight: we are at Home, respecting our mysterious character and Call.

We begin like Joseph to be present to ourselves. And by changing gaze, we will enjoy the Beauty of the New.

«Saint Joseph reminds us that those who appear hidden or in the shadows can play an incomparable role in the history of salvation. A word of recognition and of gratitude is due to them all» [Patris Corde intr.].

To internalize and live the message:

On what occasion did ‘doubt’ open horizons to astound you? In the beautiful and colorful moments of life, did you start from your certainty?

 [4th Advent Sunday (year A), December 21, 2025]

Mt 1:18-24 (1-24)

Contact with the earth: deviations and Ascent

Unassuming Incarnation, in subtlety and density

(Mt 1:1-17)

In the ancient East, genealogies referred only to men, and it is surprising that Matthew mentions the names of five women - considered only servile, unreliable creatures, impure by nature.

But in the story of Mary's four companions, there is something quite abnormal [also in terms of their chosen way of life], which is nevertheless worthwhile.

Here, then, we are challenged by the Gospel to consider the weight to be given to the rigidity of rules, which in the history of spirituality have often devoured the spontaneous being of those called by the Father (simply to express themselves).

Even cultures inspired by the Wisdom of Nature attest to their weight.

The Tao Tê Ching (LVII) writes: 'When the world is governed by correction, weapons are used with falsehood [...] For this reason, the saint says: I do not act, and the people transform themselves [...] I do not desire, and the people become simple'.

To reach the human fullness of the Son, God did not claim to overcome concrete events, but rather assumed and valued them.

The path that leads to Christ is not a matter of climbing, nor of results or performances to be calibrated ever better in a linear crescendo that is therefore moralising and dirigiste (which does not impose changes that matter, nor solve real problems).

Commenting on the Tao (i), Master Ho-shang Kung writes: 'Mystery is Heaven. It says that both the man who has desires and the man who has none receive equally from Heaven. Within Heaven there is another Heaven; in Heaven there is density and tenuity'.

In history, the Eternal One manages to give wings not so much to strength and genius, but to all poor origins, to the pettiness of our nature, which suddenly turns into totally unpredictable wealth. 

And if we continually tear the thread, the Lord re-knots it - not to fix it, patch it up and resume as before, but to weave an entirely new fabric. Starting precisely from the falls.

It is those moments of down-to-earth discrimination that force humanity to change direction symbolically and not repeat itself, stagnating in the circuit of the usual cerebral and purist perimeters - habitual, and where everything is normal.

Following inner crashes and rethinking, how many people have realised their destiny, deviating from the quiet, protected and comfortable path that had been laid out for them (Cottolengo, Mother Teresa, and so on)!

From the mud of the swamp sprout beautiful, clean flowers, which do not even resemble those that we had ever imagined we would be able to contemplate in the various stages of life.

The tumbles of the protagonists of the history of salvation did not come about because of weakness. They were signs of a bad or partial use of resources; stimuli to change our perspective, re-evaluate our point of view and many hopes.

Those collapses presented new challenges: they were interpreted as strong provocations to shift energies and change course.

The recoveries that followed the downturns turned into new opportunities, completely unexpected, completely at odds with the ready-made solutions that stifle character.

Even our crisis only becomes serious when failures do not lead to new insights and different paths that we had not thought of (perhaps in any of our good intentions).

This link between our depths and the heights of the Spirit is strange: it is the Incarnation, not a theory - it is all reality.

There is no Gift that resembles us at the divine level and that comes to us without passing through and involving the dimension of finitude.

The holes in the water convey the entirely human nature of what we are - behind the illusions or appearances that we do not want to give up, in order to convince ourselves that we are instead identified 'characters'.

But the ambivalences and flaws continue to want to shift our gaze and destiny elsewhere, away from common expectations [today even the paroxysm of the point in the polls].

Behind the mask and beyond the beliefs acquired from the environment, from manners or procedures... there is the great Secret of the Father about us.

It is precisely the descents that spiritualise, through a work of the soul that is spurred on by events, so that it turns to acquire new awareness, internalises different evaluations, sees and embraces other varied horizons, including missionary ones.

The crack that brings us down can be more substantial than any progress; not because it initiates an asceticism: it becomes contact with the 'earth' - where we find the lifeblood that truly corresponds to us, to regenerate.

The decline or even the ruin of a reassuring status has a propulsive, regenerative, transmutative function in every event; normal, after all, and in which the history of God is totally recognised.

To internalise and live the message:

What were your turning points?

What detour has fulfilled you?

Not only through men, but with them

With today's Liturgy, we enter the last stretch of the Advent journey, which urges us to intensify our preparation to celebrate the Lord's Christmas with faith and joy, welcoming with intimate wonder God who draws near to man, to each one of us.

The first reading presents us with the elderly Jacob gathering his sons for a blessing: it is an event of great intensity and emotion. This blessing is like a seal of fidelity to the covenant with God, but it is also a prophetic vision that looks ahead and points to a mission. Jacob is the father who, through the not always straightforward paths of his own history, comes to the joy of gathering his sons around him and tracing the future of each one and their descendants. In particular, today we heard the reference to the tribe of Judah, whose royal strength is exalted, represented by the lion, as well as to the monarchy of David, represented by the sceptre, the staff of command, which alludes to the coming of the Messiah. Thus, in this double image, we see the future mystery of the lion who becomes a lamb, of the king whose staff of command is the Cross, the sign of true kingship. Jacob gradually became aware of God's primacy, understood that his journey was guided and sustained by the Lord's faithfulness, and could only respond with full adherence to God's covenant and plan of salvation, becoming in turn, together with his descendants, a link in the divine plan.

The passage from Matthew's Gospel presents us with the "genealogy of Jesus Christ, son of David, son of Abraham" (Mt 1:1), further emphasising and explaining God's faithfulness to his promise, which he fulfils not only through men, but with them and, as with Jacob, sometimes through tortuous and unexpected ways. The expected Messiah, the object of the promise, is true God, but also true man; Son of God, but also Son born of the Virgin, Mary of Nazareth, holy flesh of Abraham, in whose seed all the peoples of the earth will be blessed (cf. Gen 22:18). In this genealogy, in addition to Mary, four women are mentioned. They are not Sarah, Rebecca, Leah, Rachel, that is, the great figures of the history of Israel. Paradoxically, instead, they are four pagan women: Rahab, Ruth, Bathsheba, Tamar, who apparently "disturb" the purity of a genealogy. But in these pagan women, who appear at decisive moments in the history of salvation, the mystery of the church of the pagans, the universality of salvation, shines through. They are pagan women in whom the future, the universality of salvation, appears. They are also sinful women, and so the mystery of grace also appears in them: it is not our works that redeem the world, but it is the Lord who gives us true life. They are sinful women, yes, in whom the greatness of the grace we all need appears. However, these women reveal an exemplary response to God's faithfulness, showing faith in the God of Israel. And so we see the church of the pagans, the mystery of grace, faith as a gift and as a path to communion with God. Matthew's genealogy, therefore, is not simply a list of generations: it is history made primarily by God, but with the response of humanity. It is a genealogy of grace and faith: it is precisely on God's absolute faithfulness and on the solid faith of these women that the continuation of the promise made to Israel rests.

[Pope Benedict, homily at the Aletti Centre, 17 December 2009]

Man, God's surname

Man is God's surname: the Lord takes the name of each one of us — whether we are saints or sinners — and makes it his own surname. Because by becoming incarnate, the Lord made history with humanity: his joy was to share his life with us, 'and this makes us weep: so much love, so much tenderness'.

With Christmas now imminent, Pope Francis commented on Tuesday 17 December on the two readings proposed by the liturgy of the word, taken respectively from Genesis (49:2, 8-10) and the Gospel of Matthew (1:1-17). On his 77th birthday, the Holy Father presided as usual over morning Mass in the chapel of Santa Marta. Among those concelebrating was Cardinal Dean Angelo Sodano, who conveyed the best wishes of the entire College of Cardinals.

In his homily, which focused on God's presence in human history, the Bishop of Rome identified two terms — inheritance and genealogy — as the keys to interpreting the first reading (concerning Jacob's prophecy as he gathers his sons and predicts a glorious lineage for Judah) and the Gospel passage containing the genealogy of Jesus, respectively. Focusing in particular on the latter, he emphasised that it is not 'a telephone directory', but 'an important subject: it is pure history', because 'God sent his son' among men. And, he added, "Jesus is consubstantial with the Father, God; but also consubstantial with the mother, a woman. And this is the consubstantiality of the mother: God became history, God wanted to become history. He is with us. He has walked with us."

A journey, continued the Bishop of Rome, that began long ago, in Paradise, immediately after the original sin. From that moment, in fact, the Lord "had this idea: to walk with us." Therefore, "he called Abraham, the first name on this list, and invited him to walk. And Abraham began that journey: he begot Isaac, and Isaac begot Jacob, and Jacob begot Judah." And so on, throughout human history. "God walks with his people," therefore, because "he did not want to come to save us without history; he wanted to make history with us."

A history, said the Pontiff, made up of holiness and sin, because in the list of Jesus' genealogy there are saints and sinners. Among the former, the Pope recalled "our father Abraham" and "David, who converted after his sin". Among the latter, he identified "high-level sinners who committed grave sins," but with whom God nevertheless "made history." Sinners who were unable to respond to the plan God had imagined for them: like "Solomon, so great and intelligent, who ended up as a poor man who did not even know his own name." Yet, Pope Francis noted, God was also with him. "And this is the beauty of it: God makes history with us. What's more, when God wants to say who he is, he says: I am the God of Abraham, of Isaac, of Jacob."

That is why, when asked "what is God's surname?", Pope Francis can answer: "It is us, each one of us. He takes his name from us to make it his surname." . And in the example offered by the Pontiff, there are not only the fathers of our faith, but also ordinary people. "I am the God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Pedro, Marietta, Armony, Marisa, Simone, everyone. He takes his surname from us. God's surname is each one of us," he explained.

Hence the observation that by taking "the surname from our name, God has made history with us"; indeed, more than that: "He has allowed us to write history". And we continue to write "this history" today, which is made up of "grace and sin", while the Lord never tires of following us: " this is God's humility, God's patience, God's love." After all, even "the book of Wisdom says that the joy of the Lord is among the children of man, with us."

So, as "Christmas approaches," Pope Francis — as he himself confided at the end of his reflection — naturally thought: " If he has made his history with us, if he has taken his surname from us, if he has let us write his history," we, for our part, should let God write ours. Because, he clarified, "holiness" is precisely "letting the Lord write our history." And this is the Christmas wish that the Pontiff wanted to make "for all of us." . A wish that is an invitation to open our hearts: "Let the Lord write your story and let him write it."

[Pope Francis, homily at St. Martha's, in L'Osservatore Romano, 18/12/2013]

Annunciation to Joseph: meaning and value of Doubt

(Mt 1:16, 18-21, 24)

"Even through Joseph's anguish, God's will, his history, his plan, comes through. Joseph thus teaches us that having faith in God also means believing that He can work even through our fears, our fragility, our weakness. He teaches us that, in the midst of life's storms, we must not be afraid to let God steer our boat. Sometimes we would like to control everything, but He always has a broader view" [Patris Corde n.2].

    In Matthew's infancy Gospels, God takes on two names: Redeemer [Yeshua: God is Saviour] and With-us. The meaning of these divine prerogatives is not mechanical, but theological.

The proper name of the Son Jesus describes his work of restoring all being. And the characteristic attribute Immanuel (taken from Isaiah) specifies its many addresses - its many locations, which are each of us, growing over time.

Incarnation: the Father stands alongside his sons and daughters. Not only is he not afraid of becoming impure through contact with things that concern human dynamics, but he even recognises himself in their condition.

For this reason, Joseph's embarrassment even leads to the culmination of the entire history of salvation.

Sources attest that he was by no means a character with a lily in his hand, but perhaps this is only of interest to us to a certain extent.

Matthew's narrative is striking because the turning point and the possibilities of the irruption (of the summit itself) of God's plan for humanity seem to spring not from certainty but from doubt.

The question mark is engaging. Discomfort sows a new seed. It tears down and destroys the identical seedlings of the weeds that infest a full life - which was a law chiselled on appearances.

The 'problem' leads us to dream of other horizons to open up, and in the first person, because the solution is not at hand.

Perplexity leads us out of the mental cages that mortify relationships previously reduced to case studies - overlooking the mechanisms that depersonalise.

Perplexity makes us go beyond common opinion, which attenuates and extinguishes the Newness of God.

Hesitation seeks existential cracks, because it wants to introduce us to territories of life - where others can also draw on different experiences, varied perceptions, and moments in which to receive decisive insights as gifts.

His wise Energy finds breaches and small openings; it acts to make us evolve as children of Eternity - even by arousing discomforts that flood existence with creative suspensions and new passion.

Its lucid Action introduces itself through Dreams that shake off the usual plans, or states of mind that put us in the balance; and the bottlenecks of marginalised thinking that allow us to rediscover the reason why we were born, to discover our place in the world.

Every oscillation, every pain, every danger, every move, can become a birth towards Originality - without first identifying ourselves.

Uniqueness does not cause us to lose sight of the Source that 'watches over' us. Woe betide us if we shy away: we would lose our destination.

This is while the circles of the resolute remain there and wither, precisely because they are always ready to explain everything.

So, for example, as with the Family of Nazareth, life in solitude - whether forced or not - becomes regenerating rather than terrible.

The Spirit that slips into the cracks of standard mentalities finds an intimate 'point' that allows us to flourish differently now, able to bring out the essence of who we truly are, ceasing to copy clichés.

So instead of wondering why something happened, after the first discriminating experience that does not fear the fear of remaining isolated, perhaps we return more frequently to our Core, which constantly gushes for a higher Dialogue.

Then we will not continue to ask ourselves, 'But whose fault is it? How can we remedy the situation? Who should we rely on?'. Rather: 'What new life do I need to explore? What is still to be discovered?'.

We will emerge with a very different virtue of vocation, because the Holy Spirit breaks through the cracks in the norms that make us conformists, then dismantles and overturns those walls. Finally, it spreads, to build its own story - which is not predictable, 'by the book' like that of all those bound by comparison.

Feeling the discomfort of participating in rituals of composed identification causes many problems, but it can be a great opportunity in life to broaden one's horizons... even for those who do not like to take the mediocre path of reassurance - making themselves dependent on opinion, clichés, and feeling immediately celebrated out of fear.

Apparent happiness. In fact, the bite of doubt does not turn us into trashy believers, as hypothesised in disciplined, legalistic religions - in puritanical philosophies with artificial wisdom - but rather into friends, adopted children [i.e. chosen] and heirs.

Thanks to the Relationship of Faith, we are no longer lost in the desert - because the many things and risks become a dialogue of specific weight: we are at Home, respecting our mysterious character and Calling.

Already here and now, we move away from the many things that constrain our Centre with constraints and demands - both in thought and action.

Only in this way are we no longer a mythological or addicted crowd, overflowing with guilt, duties and affiliations - but rather a Family and informal colloquial dissonance.

No longer a mass, but (all-round) People: precisely in our being within limits do we rhyme with great Mission.

Let us begin, like Joseph, to be present to ourselves. And by changing our gaze, we will enjoy the Beauty of the New.

"St Joseph reminds us that all those who are apparently hidden or 'in the background' have an unparalleled role in the history of salvation. To all of them, we offer a word of recognition and gratitude" [Patris Corde intr.].

To internalise and live the message:

What were your turning points? What detour led to your fulfilment?

On what occasion did doubt open up astonishing horizons for you?

When and if you changed your conformist outlook, did you experience the awakening of perspectives, relationships and regenerating energies in your inner world?

How did you perceive, 'see' or 'dream' what was previously invisible and elsewhere?

Did you perhaps start from your own certainty?