Solemnity of All Saints [1 November 2025]

May God bless us and may the Virgin Mary protect us. The Solemnity of All Saints is an important occasion to reflect on our Christian vocation: through Baptism, we are all called to be 'blessed', that is, on the path towards the joy of eternal Love.

First Reading from the Book of Revelation of Saint John the Apostle (7:2-4, 9-14)

In Revelation, John recounts a mystical vision he received in Patmos, which is to be interpreted symbolically rather than literally. He sees an angel and an immense crowd, composed of two distinct groups: The 144,000 baptised, marked with the seal of the living God, represent the faithful believers, contemporaries of John, persecuted by the emperor Domitian. They are the servants of God, protected and consecrated, the baptised people who bear witness to their faith despite persecution. The innumerable crowd, from every nation, tribe, people and language, dressed in white, with palm branches in their hands and standing before the Throne and the Lamb, represents humanity saved thanks to the faith and sufferings of the baptised. Their standing position symbolises resurrection, their white robes purification, and their palm branches victory. The central message is that the suffering of the faithful brings about the salvation of others: the trials of the persecuted become a means of redemption for humanity, in continuity with the theme of the suffering servant of Isaiah and Zechariah. John uses symbolic and coded language, typical of the Apocalypse, to secretly communicate with persecuted believers and encourage them to persevere in their faith without being discovered by the Roman authorities. The text therefore invites perseverance: even if evil seems to triumph, the heavenly Father and Christ have already won, and the faithful, though small and oppressed, share in this victory. Baptism is thus perceived as a protective seal, comparable to the mark of Roman soldiers. This text, with its mystical and prophetic language, reveals that the victory of the poor and the little ones is not revenge, but a manifestation of God's triumph over the forces of evil, bringing salvation and hope to all humanity, thanks to the faithful perseverance of the righteous.

Responsorial Psalm (23/24)

This psalm takes us to the Temple of Jerusalem, a holy place built on high. A gigantic procession arrives at the gates of the Temple. Two alternating choirs sing in dialogue: 'Who shall ascend the mountain of the Lord? Who can stand in his holy place?" The biblical references in this psalm are Isaiah (chapter 33), which compares God to a consuming fire, asking who can bear to look upon him. The question is rhetorical: we cannot bear God on our own, but he draws near to man, and the psalm celebrates the discovery of the chosen people: God is holy and transcendent, but also always close to man. Today, this psalm resounds on All Saints' Day with the song of the angels inviting us to join in this symphony of praise to God: 'with all the angels of heaven, we want to sing to you'. The necessary condition for standing before God is well expressed here: only those with a pure heart, innocent hands, who do not offer their souls to idols. It is not a question of moral merit: the people are admitted when they have faith, that is, total trust in the one God, and decisively reject all forms of idolatry. Literally, 'he has not lifted his soul to empty gods', that is, he does not pray to idols, while raising one's eyes corresponds to praying and recognising God. The psalm insists on a pure heart and innocent hands. The heart is pure when it is totally turned towards God, without impurity, that is, without mixing the true and the false, God and idols. Hands are innocent when they have not offered sacrifices or prayed to false gods. The parallelism between heart and hands emphasises that inner purity and concrete physical action must go together. The psalm recalls the struggle of the prophets because Israel had to fight idolatry from the exodus from Egypt (golden calf) to the Exile and beyond, and the psalm reaffirms fidelity to the one God as a condition for standing before Him. "Behold, this is the generation that seeks your face, God of Jacob." Seeking God's face is an expression used for courtiers admitted into the king's presence and indicates that God is the only true King and that faithfulness to Him allows one to receive the blessing promised to the patriarchs. From this flow the concrete consequences of faithfulness: the man with a pure heart knows no hatred; the man with innocent hands does no evil; on the contrary, he obtains justice from God by living in accordance with the divine plan because every life has a mission and every true child of God has a positive impact on society. Also evident in this psalm is the connection to the Beatitudes of the Gospel: "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness... Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God."  "Behold, this is the generation that seeks him, that seeks your face, God of Jacob": is this not a simple definition of poverty of heart, a fundamental condition for entering the Kingdom of Heaven?

Second Reading from the First Letter of Saint John the Apostle (3:1-3)

 "Beloved, see what great love the Father has given us": the urgency of opening our eyes. St John invites believers to "see", that is, to contemplate with the eyes of the heart, because the gaze of the heart is the key to faith. Indeed, the whole of human history is an education of the gaze. According to the prophets, the tragedy of man is precisely "having eyes and not seeing". What we need to learn to see is God’s love and “his plan of salvation” (cf. Eph 1:3-10) for humanity. The entire Bible insists on this: to see well is to recognise the face of God, while a distorted gaze leads to falsehood. The example of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden shows how sin arises from a distorted gaze. Humanity, listening to the serpent, loses sight of the tree of life and focuses its gaze on the forbidden tree: this is the beginning of inner disorder. The gaze becomes seduced, deceived, and when "their eyes were opened," humans did not see the promised divinity, but their nakedness, their poverty and fragility. In opposition to this deceived gaze, John invites us to look with our hearts into the truth: 'Beloved, see what great love the Father has given us'. God is not jealous of man — as the serpent had insinuated — but loves him and wants him as his son. John's entire message is summed up in this revelation: 'God is love'. True life consists in never doubting this love; knowing God, as Jesus says in John's Gospel (17:3), is eternal life. God's plan, revealed by John and Paul, is a "benevolent plan, a plan of salvation": to make humanity in Christ, the Son par excellence, of whom we are the members, one body. Through Baptism, we are grafted onto Christ and are truly children of God, clothed in Him. The Holy Spirit makes us recognise God as Father, placing in our hearts the filial prayer: 'Abba, Father!'. However, the world does not yet know God because it has not opened its eyes. Only those who believe can understand the truth of divine love; for others, it seems incomprehensible or even scandalous. It is up to believers to bear witness to this love with their words and their lives, so that non-believers may, in turn, open their eyes and recognise God as Father. At the end of time, when the Son of God appears, humanity will be transformed in his image: man will rediscover the pure gaze he had lost at the beginning. Thus resounds Christ's desire to the Samaritan woman (4:1-42): "If you knew the gift of God!" An ever-present invitation to open our eyes to recognise the love that saves.

From the Gospel according to Matthew (5:1-12a)

Jesus proclaims: "Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted": it is the gift of tears. This beatitude, seemingly paradoxical, does not exalt pain but transforms it into a path of grace and hope. Jesus, who always sought to heal and console, does not invite us to take pleasure in suffering, but encourages us not to be discouraged in trials and to remain faithful in our tears, because those who suffer are already on the way to the Kingdom. The term "blessed" in the original biblical text does not indicate good fortune, but a call to persevere: it means "on the march", "take courage, keep pace, walk". Tears, then, are not an evil to be endured, but can become a place of encounter with God. There are beneficial tears, such as those of Peter's repentance, where God's mercy is experienced, or those that arise from compassion for the suffering of others, a sign that the heart of stone is becoming a heart of flesh (Ezekiel 36:26). Even tears shed in the face of the harshness of the world participate in divine compassion: they announce that the messianic time has come, when the promised consolation becomes reality. The first beatitude, 'Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven', encompasses all the others and reveals their secret. Evangelical poverty is not material poverty, but openness of heart: the poor (anawim) are those who are not self-sufficient, who are neither proud nor self-reliant, but expect everything from God. They are the humble, the little ones, those who have "bent backs" before the Lord. As in the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector, only those who recognise their own poverty can receive salvation. The poor in spirit live in total trust in God, receive everything as a gift, and pray with simplicity: "Lord, have mercy." From this inner attitude spring all the other beatitudes: mercy, meekness, peace, thirst for justice — all are fruits of the Spirit, received and not conquered. To be poor in spirit means to believe that only God fills, and that true riches are not possessions, power or knowledge, but the presence of God in a humble heart. This is why Jesus proclaims a future and paradoxical happiness: "Blessed are the poor," that is, soon you will be envied, because God will fill your emptiness with his divine riches. The beatitudes, therefore, are not moral rules but good news: they announce that God's gaze is different from that of men. Where the world sees failure — poverty, tears, persecution — God sees the raw material of his Kingdom. Jesus teaches us to look at ourselves and others with the eyes of God, to discover the presence of the Kingdom where we would never have suspected it. True happiness therefore comes from a purified gaze and from accepted weakness, which become places of grace. Those who weep, those who are poor in spirit, those who seek justice and peace, already experience the promised consolation: the joy of children who know and feel loved by the Father. As Ezekiel reminds us, on the day of judgement, those who have wept over the evil in the world will be recognised (Ezekiel 9:4): their tears are therefore already a sign of the Kingdom to come.

• +Giovanni D'Ercole

Commemoration of All Souls [2 November 2025]

May God bless us and may the Virgin protect us. After contemplating the glory of Heaven, today we commemorate the destiny of light that awaits us on the day of our earthly death. 

1. The commemoration of All Souls' Day was set on 2 November only at the beginning of the 11th century, linking it to the solemnity of All Saints' Day. After all, the feast of 1 November could not fail to bring to mind the faithful departed, whom the Church remembers in her prayers every day. At every Mass, we pray first of all 'for all those who rest in Christ' (Eucharistic Prayer I), then the prayer is extended to 'all the departed, whose faith you alone know' (Eucharistic Prayer IV), to 'all those who have left this life' (Eucharistic Prayer II) and 'whose righteousness you alone know' (Eucharistic Prayer III). And to make this commemoration even more participatory, today three Holy Masses can be celebrated with a wide range of readings, which I will limit myself to indicating here: A. First Mass  First Reading Job 19:1, 23-27; Psalm 26/27; Second Reading St Paul to the Romans  5:5-11; From the Gospel according to John 6:37-40; B. Second Mass: First Reading Isaiah 25:6-7-9; Psalm 24/25; Second Reading Romans 8:14-23; From the Gospel according to Matthew 25:31-46); C. Third Mass: First Reading Book of Wisdom 3:1-9; Psalm 41/42 2 $2/43; Second Reading  Revelation  21:1-5, 6b-7; Gospel according to Matthew 5:1-12). Given the number of biblical readings, instead of providing a commentary on each biblical passage as I do every Sunday, I prefer to offer a reflection on the meaning and value of today's celebration, which has its origins in the long history of the Catholic Church.  One need only read the biblical readings to begin to doubt that the term "dead" is the most appropriate for today's Commemoration. In fact, it is in the light of Easter and in the mercy of the Lord that we are invited to meditate and pray on this day for all those who have gone before us. They have already been called to live in the light of divine life, and we too, marked with the seal of faith, will one day follow them. The Apostle Paul writes, 'We do not want you, brothers and sisters, to be ignorant about those who sleep in the Lord, so that you may not grieve as those who have no hope' (1 Thessalonians 4:13-14). Saints, when possible, are not remembered on the anniversary of their birth but are celebrated on the day of their death, which Christian tradition calls in Latin "dies natalis", meaning the day of birth into the Kingdom. For all the deceased, whether Christian, Muslim, Buddhist or of other faiths, this is their dies natalis, as we repeat in Holy Mass: "Remember all those who have left this world and whose righteousness you know; welcome them into your Kingdom, where we hope to be filled with your glory together for eternity" (Eucharistic Prayer III). The liturgy refuses to use the popular expression 'day of the dead', since this day opens onto divine life. The Church calls it: Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed. 'Dead' and 'departed' are not synonyms: the term 'departed' comes from the Latin functus, which means 'he who has accomplished', 'he who has completed'. The deceased is therefore "he who has brought to completion the life" received from God. This liturgical feast is both a day of remembrance and intercession: we remember the deceased and pray for them. In the light of the solemnity of All Saints' Day, this day offers Christians an opportunity to renew and live the hope of eternal life, the gift of Christ's resurrection. For this reason, during these celebrations, many people visit cemeteries to honour their deceased loved ones and decorate their graves with flowers. We think of all those who have left us, but whom we have not forgotten. We pray for them because, according to the Christian faith, they need purification in order to be fully with God. Our prayer can help them on this path of purification, by virtue of what is called the 'communion of saints', a communion of life that exists between us and those who have gone before us: in Christ there is a real bond and solidarity between the living and the dead.

2. A little history. In order for the feast of All Saints (established in France in 835) to retain its proper character, and so that it would not become a day dedicated to the dead, St Odilon, abbot of Cluny, around the year 1000, imposed on all his monasteries the commemoration of the dead through a solemn Mass on 2 November. This day was not called a 'day of prayer for the dead', but a 'commemoration of the dead'. At that time, the doctrine of purgatory had not yet been clearly formulated (it would only be so towards the end of the 12th century): it was mainly a matter of remembering the dead rather than praying for them. In the 15th century, the Dominicans in Spain introduced the practice of celebrating three Masses on this day. Pope Benedict XV (+1922) then extended to the whole Church the possibility of celebrating three Masses on 2 November, inviting people to pray in particular for the victims of war. On the occasion of the millennium of the institution of the Commemoration of the Faithful Departed (13 September 1998), St John Paul II wrote: "In fact, on the day after the feast of All Saints, when the Church joyfully celebrates the communion of saints and the salvation of mankind, St. Odilon wanted to exhort his monks to pray in a special way for the dead, thus contributing mysteriously to their entry into bliss. From the Abbey of Cluny, this practice gradually spread, becoming a solemn celebration in suffrage of the dead, which St Odilon called the Feast of the Dead, now universally observed throughout the Church." "In praying for the dead, the Church first of all contemplates the mystery of Christ's Resurrection, who through his Cross gives us salvation and eternal life. With St Odilon, we can repeat: 'The Cross is my refuge, the Cross is my way and my life... The Cross is my invincible weapon. It repels all evil and dispels darkness'. The Cross of the Lord reminds us that every life is inhabited by the light of Easter: no situation is lost, because Christ has conquered death and opens the way to true life for us. "Redemption is accomplished through the sacrifice of Christ, through which man is freed from sin and reconciled with God" (Tertio millennio adveniente, n. 7). "While waiting for death to be definitively conquered, some men "continue their pilgrimage on earth; others, after having ended their lives, are still being purified; and still others finally enjoy the glory of heaven and contemplate the Trinity in full light" (Lumen Gentium, n. 49). United with the merits of the saints, our fraternal prayer comes to the aid of those who are still awaiting the beatific vision. Intercession for the dead is an act of fraternal charity, proper to the one family of God, through which "we respond to the deepest vocation of the Church" (Lumen Gentium, n. 51), that is, "to save souls who will love God for eternity" (St. Thérèse of Lisieux, Prayers, 6). For the souls in purgatory, the expectation of eternal joy and the encounter with the Beloved is a source of suffering, because of the punishment due to sin that keeps them away from God; but they have the certainty that, once the time of purification is over, they will meet the One they desire (Ps 42; 62). On several occasions, various popes throughout history have urged us to pray fervently for the deceased, for our family members and for all our deceased brothers and sisters, so that they may obtain remission of the punishment due to their sins and hear the voice of the Lord calling them.

3. Why this day is important: By instituting a Mass for the commemoration of the faithful departed, the Church reminds us of the place that the deceased occupy in family and social life and recognises the painful reality of mourning: the absence of a loved one is a constant wound. This celebration can also be seen as a response to the plea of the good thief who, on the cross, turned to Jesus and said: "Remember me." In remembering our deceased, we symbolically respond to that same plea: "Remember us." It is an invitation not to forget them, to continue to pray for them, keeping their memory alive and active, a sign of our hope in eternal life. Today is therefore a day for everyone: it is not only for bereaved families, but for everyone. It helps to sensitise the faithful to the mystery of death and mourning, but also to the hope and promise of eternal life. For Christians, death is not the end, but a passage. Through the trial of mourning, we understand that our earthly life is not eternal: our deceased precede us on the path to eternity. The 2nd of November thus also becomes a lesson on the 'last things' (eschatological realities), preparing us for this passage with serenity, without fear or sadness, because it is a step towards eternal life. The Church never feels exempt from prayer: it constantly intercedes for the salvation of the world, entrusting every soul to God's mercy and judgement, so that He may grant forgiveness and the peace of the Kingdom. We know well that "fulfilling life" only makes sense in fidelity to the Lord. The Church's prayer recognises our fragility and prays that none of her children will be lost. Thus, 2 November becomes a day of faith and hope, beyond the separation that marks the end of earthly life — in peace or suffering, in solitude or in family, in martyrdom or in the goodness of loving care. Death is the hour of encounter and always remains a place of struggle. The word "agony" derives from Greek and means "struggle." For Christians, death is the encounter with the Risen One, the hope in the faith professed: I believe in the resurrection of the dead and in the life of the world to come. The believer enters death with faith, rejects despair and repeats with Jesus: 'Father, into your hands I commend my spirit' (Lk 23:46). For Christians, even the hardest death is a passage into the Risen Jesus, exalted by the Father. Very often, modern Western civilisation tends to hide death: it fears it, disguises it, distances itself from it. Even in prayer, we say distractedly: Now and at the hour of our death. Yet every year, without knowing it, we pass the date that will one day be that of our death. In the past, Christian preaching often reminded us of this, although sometimes in very emphatic tones. Today, however, the fear of death seems to want to extinguish the reality of dying, which is part of every life on earth. Today's Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed is a useful opportunity to pause and reflect and, above all, to pray, renewing our fidelity to our baptism and our vocation: Together we invoke Mary, who, raised to heaven, watches over our life and our death. Mary, icon of God's goodness and sure sign of our hope, You spent your life in love and with your own assumption into Heaven you announce to us that the Lord is not the God of the dead, but of the living. Support us on our daily journey and grant that we may live in such a way that we are ready at every moment to meet the Lord of Life in the last moment of our earthly pilgrimage when, having closed our eyes to the realities of this world, they will open to the eternal vision of God.

+ Giovanni D'Ercole

(Lk 14:15-24)

Jesus does not compare the Father's Kingdom to a solemn assembly, but to a great Supper!

However, the proposal of festive novelty is rejected. The self-sufficient ones and experienced have other commitments and interests.

The invitation to take part in the Feast was initially addressed to the sons of Israel, who still likened the Messianic times to a Banquet, characterised by gratitude and [internal] fraternity.

In the first communities, the difficulties in broadening the criteria of communion came precisely from converts from Judaism, who by long practice retained the custom of not sharing food with those far away; thus the breaking of the Eucharistic Bread.

Within the framework of their conventions and the sacred norms attested in the Torah (Deut 20:5-7), the behaviour of those refusing the invitation in the parable of the Banquet (vv.18-20) was legitimate from the point of view of the recognised right - not friendship.

It is to accentuate the meaning of the gesture that the master of the feast orders the servants to gather precisely those who were socially excluded from the ancient religion, because they were considered impure: the pagans, the wobblers. Open ones to waiting for.

Christ continues to draw a dividing line between those who advocate an untouchable order and ideals above human reality, and those who, being on the periphery, are always willing to participate in the Feast.

They are not the “all concerned with ritual”, manners, appearance; but with the life they spread.

They do not let themselves be conditioned by privileges, their things, and laws: they give without double-entry.

They accept with natural readiness; rejoicing in reality and not in the distinction between sacred and profane.

They do not think already have the answer, and do not end up being slaves to it.

Jesus' teaching invites not to limit one's affections and not to let one's heart be cluttered by customs, by the particular or current mentalities, by legalistic blocks - or by the 'many things'.

In the assembly of sons, it is not the well provided for [serious, busy people with no time to waste, with too many possessions and invitations to manage] but the petty people... who come to the fore. Despite their poor aptitude.

All this, because characteristic of the Little and beggar is the readiness to cross fences: that which makes them fit to grasp God's summons.

Those who are far away - even if they are on tight corner - fill the Father's House.

‘In society’ the poor man is one of many, but the invitation to [Eucharistic] canteen conveys to him a sense of values that do not suffocate life with pettiness, and ties.

Indeed, the poor man often has a better understanding of divine-human things.

This ever more conscious resemblance to the Son of God is accentuated in the scarcity of ‘adequate means’: scarcity that makes true, that induces others to reflect - remaining unremarkable, incapable of “make lightning”.

Our solidarity is not a matter of sympathy, common interests and esprit de corps, but rather the result of an extended Calling; of one powerful Life circulating in all, respecting their freedom and reality - as well as their phases of change.

Paraphrasing the encyclical Fratelli Tutti [nos.13-15, passim] according to the passage from Lk we must remain careful not to impoverish the life of Faith, turning it into a detached commitment to «cultural colonisation».

If this were the case, even the universal-Catholic horizon of a conviviality of differences would dissolve into an overly normalised, utterly predictable; ultimately deserted invitation.

The entrenched or self-interested rejection of the Banquet would bring with it - as before our eyes - the «further disintegration» of «critical thinking», of action «for justice», of its «paths to integration».

In fact, even ecclesial society can run the risk of «distorting the great words», «risking impoverishment»; thus «reducing itself to the arrogance of the strongest» and to «merely ephemeral marketing recipes, which find in the destruction of the other the most effective resource».

But God's people cannot live in a parallel, disconnected, double world - as if the One Eternal worshipped was a patchwork of wiles, marketing and convenience.

[Tuesday 31st wk. in O.T.  November 4, 2025]

(Lk 14:15-24)

Jesus does not compare the Father's Kingdom to a solemn assembly, but to a great Supper!

However, the proposal of festive novelty is rejected. The self-sufficient and experienced have other commitments and interests...

After the destruction of the Temple, the government of the synagogues was taken over by the Pharisees, who were saved from disaster because their traditionalism had no explicit political-nationalist overtones.

In fact, they believed that the expectation of the Messiah had nothing to do with the struggle against Rome; in this they seemed in tune with the Christians.

But they constantly demanded from their followers the strict fulfilment of the rules that identified the traditional Jewish religion.

After the year 70, this demand led them to an increasingly obsessive condemnation of Jewish converts to the Lord Jesus - and at the end of the century to their expulsion from the synagogues.

The fundamentalist religious leaders thus ended up marginalising even socially the followers of the younger Messiah, guilty of neglecting the distinctions between the customs of Israel and those of other peoples.

In the communities of Lk the situation was less lacerating, but equally alive.

The converts to faith in Christ came for the most part from paganism, who despite differences in cultural background and class, lived here and there [without those purist ideological tares] the ideal of sharing and communion even of goods.

The invitation to take part in the Feast was initially addressed to the children of Israel, who still compared the Messianic times to a great Banquet, characterised by gratitude and (internal) fraternity.

But the difficulties in broadening the criteria of communion came precisely from converts from Judaism, who by long practice retained the custom of not sharing food with those far away; thus the breaking of the Eucharistic Bread.

Within the framework of their customs and the sacred norms attested in the Torah (Deut 20:5-7), the behaviour of those who refuse the invitation in the parable of the Banquet (vv.18-20) was legitimate from the point of view of recognised right - not friendship.

It is to accentuate the meaning of the gesture that the master of the feast orders the servants to gather precisely those who were socially excluded from the ancient religion because they were considered unclean: the pagans. Open to expectation.

Christ continues to draw a dividing line between those who advocate an untouchable order and ideals above human reality, and those who, being on the periphery, are always willing to participate in the Feast.

They are not the 'all concerned with ritual', manners, appearance; but with the life they spread.

They do not let themselves be conditioned by privileges, their things, and laws: they give without double-entry accounts, they accept with natural readiness; they rejoice in reality and not in the distinction between sacred and profane. They do not think they already have the answer, and do not end up being slaves to it.

Jesus' teaching invites us not to limit our affections and not to let our hearts be cluttered by customs, by particular or current mentalities, by legalistic blocks - or by 'many things'.

In the assembly of the children, it is not the well provided for [serious, busy people with no time to lose, with too many possessions and invitations to manage] but the petty people... who come to the fore... despite their meagre aptitudes.

All this, because characteristic of the Little and Pitocchios is the readiness to cross fences: that which makes them fit to grasp God's summons.

The distant - albeit in straits - fill the Father's house.

In society, the poor man is one of many, but the invitation to Mensa conveys to him a sense of values that do not suffocate his life of pettiness, and ties; indeed, the indigent often has a better understanding of divine-human things.

This ever more conscious resemblance to the Son of God is accentuated in the scarcity of 'adequate' means: scarcity that makes true, that induces others to reflect - remaining unremarkable, incapable of making lightning.

This intimate, luminous, transfiguring awareness pales and is extinguished in the vortex of legalisms, of cultural conventions.

It seems to fade in the dizzying multiplication of activities - they do not reform: they make us external and conditioned by the advantages of worldly-sacred, unfortunately monopolistic security.

An obligatory banquet would not be a Banquet... certainly not a Feast, a Gift to be cherished - confused with advantages or perfections [bad interpretation of stubborn observant circles].

This is why many prefer their particular purgatory to the Heaven on Earth that the Father offers.

Our solidarity is not a matter of sympathy, common interests and esprit de corps, but the result of an extended Calling, of one powerful Life circulating in all, respecting their freedom and reality - as well as their phases of change.

Paraphrasing the encyclical Fratelli Tutti (nn.13-15, passim) according to the passage from Luke we must remain careful not to impoverish the life of Faith, turning it into a detached commitment to "cultural colonisation".

If this were the case, even the universal-Catholic horizon of a conviviality of differences would dissolve into an overly normalised, absolutely predictable, ultimately deserted invitation.

The engrossed or interested rejection of the Banquet would bring with it - as before our eyes - the "further disintegration" of "critical thinking", of action "for justice", of its "paths of integration".

Even ecclesial society can in fact run the risk of "distorting the great words", "risking impoverishment"; thus "reducing itself to the arrogance of the strongest" and to "merely ephemeral marketing recipes, which find in the destruction of the other the most effective resource".

But God's people cannot live in a parallel, disconnected, double world - as if the one Eternal worshipped was a patchwork of wiles, marketing and convenience.

To internalise and live the message:

What does the Eucharist convey in your church or group reality? What particular and special invitation does it communicate?

The Feast, the Robe

All called, but with what outfit? Without artifice

Mt 22:1-14 (1-21)

The "wedding garment" (vv.11-12) is a figure of the essential - the indispensable, even the precarious, without frills of refinement.

"Each one of you, therefore, who in the Church has faith in God has already taken part in the wedding feast, but cannot say that he has the wedding garment if he does not keep the grace of Charity" (Homilia 38:9: PL 76:1287). And this robe is symbolically woven of two woods, one at the top and the other at the bottom: love of God and love of neighbour (cf. ibid.,10: PL 76,1288)" (Gregory the Great; Pope Benedict, 9 October 2011).

The Kingdom of God announced by Jesus is different from the one imagined by the rabbis, whose doctrine could admit personal and civic disregard [e.g.: sellers in the temple, barren fig tree, objection to authority, murderous vine-dressers, etc.: Mt 21].

The Banquet preached by the Master is not a Garden of Eden set up for a future in the hereafter, which in the meantime - albeit in flashes - can endure inauthenticity. Rather, it is a direct thread.

His set canteen is the new condition into which the person who trusts his proposal to share is introduced.

There are those who feel satiated, because they believe they already possess enough for a life without too many problems - and so they adapt to any occasion, even a petty one.

This was the situation of the authorities, satisfied with the overabundant religious structure, which seemed to offer just social security, and certainty even before God.

Instead (as if to say): it is not enough to have one's name transcribed in the parish registers, and then present oneself in the rags of ancient life.

Today, the rebirth from the global crisis calls for fundamental options, for radical changes in mentality and reality.

There is a real need to renew 'clothing', that is, to set choices on new values. 

It is appropriate to become plastic again, to remodel ourselves on the Person of Christ, not to reject the changes that stimulate - to the point of building a common life project, and rebuild the world around us.

All are called (v.14), but some have not kept the white garment of Baptism. He has totally changed his outfit, unfortunately - despite in some cases presiding over and defending the institution.

Jesus resumes speaking to the leaders and offends them without half-measures, because he does not compare the Father's kingdom to a liturgical assembly of theirs, those well set up, of great authority, full of artifice... but to a wedding feast, without sacred banners!

In that festive simplicity, in the immediate and joyful frankness of a wedding, there is a human reality characterising the divine condition: the spontaneous Joy of frank relationships, face to face - now lost in the formalisms of habituated religion.

The proposal of festive novelty is, however, rejected. The self-sufficient and experienced (who know better) worship another master: self-interest.

Opportunism cannot be an ingredient of the Sacred: self-interest turns people inward, closes their gaze, makes them one-sided and gloomy.

It consigns the Church to entanglements.

Jesus realised: all that the cunning and messy people were doing was a function of their own profit. In fact they thought of the Kingdom in an elective, already selected (and commercial, usual) way.

As with the labourers of the last hour [Matthew 20:1-16] the only currency for all is Christ himself. But the veterans, who consider themselves first in their class by right, do not care about people's happiness.

So the fate of the prophets was nothing more than the careless outcome of despicable calculations [in Luke 14:18-20 "ordinary" daily duties] which were, however, leading the people to destruction (v.7).

The background of the parable is the friction between converted Jews and converted Gentiles.

Considering themselves chosen - "elect" (v.14) - the former refused to break the Bread, share and put themselves on an equal footing with the latter.

Interestingly, however, it was precisely the faithful servants, push come to shove, who stood out in reverse: they were already recognisable because under any circumstances they were prepared to enter the Banquet 'last'.

In short, the space opened by the self-exclusion of the people called first would not be able to put an 'end' to the efforts of those who have always fought for life and authenticity.

Fruitful trees - Jesus argued, and we see this everywhere today - do not like to prevaricate: they prefer to produce, without opportunist claims or envy.

They take risks, and occupy only the last place; to be close to the uncertain, and encourage them. 

So in v.9 Mt does not speak of going to the crossroads [CEI translation] but to the outlets of the streets [Greek text].

Pope Francis would say: to the existential peripheries, where life is not taken for granted, but always pulsates new. There where one cannot be indifferent.

The Greek term indicates the end of the (reassuring) urban roads and the beginning of the careless and risky paths.

In the Semitic mentality, they were the border of pure territory and the threshold of precarious, contaminated places.

Not only: God's offer of love first brings together the 'wicked' ['wicked': v.10 Greek text] to emphasise that Heaven is not at points.

It is available to the needy, to those who recognise themselves as such.

But everyone can be wicked on the outside, not on the inside: that is, watchful to our brother and diligent.

We are called to abandon neglect and carelessness.

In order not to confuse the Face of God and ruin the lives of the most motivated, a change of mentality is needed within the Church.

A decisive substitution of principles and conveniences, overthrowing every pyramid ideology, of self-interest and power.

By Faith that incorporates us unconditionally to the Bridegroom, the clean and sumptuous dress is always provided by the Master of the House.

But wearing it is the result of a conscious choice, made by us: wanting to "give birth to a new world, where we are all brothers, where there is room for every discarded person" [Fratelli Tutti, no. 278].

That is to say, we will continue to undergo the journey into the parallel world - sometimes even communal - where everything is disconnected and double: the result of bad indoctrination, corrupt options and diabolical motives.

As if the only God worshipped is marketing and convenience.

To internalise and live the message:

What do you consider diabolical and imagine could lead you away from the spiritual path?Do you think of God in a serious way or do you associate him with the joy of a wedding party?

Return to God the image of true humanity. What acronym?

(Mt 22:15-21)

After the expulsion of the sellers from the Temple, the objection on authority, and the parables of the two sons, the murderous vinedressers, and the rejected banquet (all referring to the elite), here is another clash between Jesus and the political and religious leaders - the latter placed behind the scenes.

Jesus (in his) systematically dismantles the traps set by the leaders and experts.

With tried and tested duplicity, they approach Him trying to stroke their self-love (v.16: situations that often occur even to critical witnesses).

The interest of the cunning, however, clashes with the attention of Christ, who is all for the real good of people and respect for the intelligence of things - not for the eagerness of approval or opportunism.

Right in the Temple (Mt 21:23) - the eminent Abode of the one Lord God - these gendarmes provoke the new Rabbi about paying taxes to the Romans (22:17).

We know what was at stake: the accusation of not being a prophet according to divine Right, or (vice versa) that of collaborationism with the occupiers.

The Master does not allow himself to be fooled by the ostentation of closeness to the God of Israel - false because sought outside - and he easily plays them.

In the Temple of Jerusalem, it was forbidden to carry Roman coins, which depicted imperial profiles and insignia (contrary to the Commandment 'Thou shalt not make thyself any image').

He asked for them, however, because indeed he had none. But the very paladins hand him one.... The scene borders on the ridiculous.

Drawing the forbidden coin from the pouch concealed under the cloak, the very leaders reveal their true God: self-interest (well hidden under devout and ostentatious manners, which only act as a screen).

Christ invites us not to allow ourselves to be flattered by the ostentatious duplicity of insignia: what is important is not to deceive people by using pious forms as theatrical masks (v.18 Greek text).

Purity fanatics only live the epidermic angle; and they rely on it: they not infrequently hide well the very material passions they disdain. It does not work with Christ.

Each one is called upon to return to his true lord the indelible image and likeness engraved on him. So let the coin be given back to its master.Woman and man - creatures in whom the image and likeness of God is imprinted - are to return themselves in authenticity, to the Creator (v.21) who dwells in their essence as persons.

Humanity is sealed by much more intimate and natural belonging than those of convenience.

The horizon of friendship to which Jesus introduces us is the whole of humanity:  indeed, he wants to be for everyone the Good Shepherd who lays down his own life (cf. Jn 10: 11), and he stresses this strongly in the discourse on the Good Shepherd who came to reunite everyone, not only the Chosen People but all the dispersed children of God. 

Our own solicitude, therefore, must be universal. We should certainly first take care of those who, like us, believe and live with the Church - it is very important, even in this dimension of universality, that we first see to those faithful who live their "being Church" every day with humility and love -, and yet we must not tire of going out, as the Lord asks us, "to the highways and hedges" (Lk 14: 23) to invite to the banquet that God has prepared those who are not yet acquainted with him or have perhaps preferred not to know him.

[Pope Benedict, address to the CEI, 18 May 2006]

Today more than in the past, the Church's social doctrine must be open to an international outlook, in line with the Second Vatican Council,73 the most recent Encyclicals,74 and particularly in line with the Encyclical which we are commemorating.75 It will not be superfluous therefore to reexamine and further clarify in this light the characteristic themes and guidelines dealt with by the Magisterium in recent years. 

Here I would like to indicate one of them: the option or love of preference for the poor. This is an option, or a special form of primacy in the exercise of Christian charity, to which the whole tradition of the Church bears witness. It affects the life of each Christian inasmuch as he or she seeks to imitate the life of Christ, but it applies equally to our social responsibilities and hence to our manner of living, and to the logical decisions to be made concerning the ownership and use of goods. 

Today, furthermore, given the worldwide dimension which the social question has assumed,76 this love of preference for the poor, and the decisions which it inspires in us, cannot but embrace the immense multitudes of the hungry, the needy, the homeless, those without medical care and, above all, those without hope of a better future. It is impossible not to take account of the existence of these realities. To ignore them would mean becoming like the "rich man" who pretended not to know the beggar Lazarus lying at his gate (cf. Lk 16:19-31).77

Our daily life as well as our decisions in the political and economic fields must be marked by these realities. Likewise the leaders of nations and the heads of international bodies, while they are obliged always to keep in mind the true human dimension as a priority in their development plans, should not forget to give precedence to the phenomenon of growing poverty. Unfortunately, instead of becoming fewer the poor are becoming more numerous, not only in less developed countries but-and this seems no less scandalous-in the more developed ones too. 

It is necessary to state once more the characteristic principle of Christian social doctrine: the goods of this world are originally meant for all.78 The right to private property is valid and necessary, but it does not nullify the value of this principle. Private property, in fact, is under a "social mortgage,"79 which means that it has an intrinsically social function, based upon and justified precisely by the principle of the universal destination of goods. Likewise, in this concern for the poor, one must not overlook that special form of poverty which consists in being deprived of fundamental human rights, in particular the right to religious freedom and also the right to freedom of economic initiative.

[Sollicitudo rei socialis n.42]

(Lk 14:12-14)

Inviting the excluded, without a spirit of interest: the Christian community is open to everyone, especially those who have nothing to offer in return.

The Church cannot be complicit with those who turn the world into a business.

And are we really today finally learning to invite for free, not in an even more interested and mercantile way?

We are well aware that the interweaving of the computational circuits behind our actions is astounding, almost as complex as the very complicated computer circuits.

And someone is also looking for sacralization:

Before exposing ourselves in a work, we weigh with incredible rapidity all the possible relapses, the reactions useful or harmful to our interests.

Even during the course of social action, we recalibrate any changes that produce the desired effect, and at the same time the hoped compensation.

If this doesn’t come, surely we imagine that there must have been a (mechanical) fault somewhere.

If we are not careful, much of our existence is transformed into a cybernetic of interest.

It also happens with God.

Instead, it is Love that conquers the world.

It is the unconditional gift that shakes, moves, conquers; it preludes and reflects the Mystery.

In the transformation of one’s own goods into Encounter, Relationship, intimate Life and of others, the source of Joy gushes forth.

Gaiety of completeness of being, Life of the Trinity itself: different Happiness, without due or expected returns; prelude to Resurrection.

A divine existence, not behind the clouds or at the end of history, but from now on.

No reciprocation is really worth such boundless and real vertigo.

Thus the type of participants in the breaking of Bread in churches - today of an increasingly varied mentality - describes the essence of God.

The ‘polyhedron’ becomes an icon and attribute of the tolerant mercy of the Eternal.

But it is not an external or paternalistic patch; nor is it configured as a rescue of the situation [or remorse of conscience].

The condition of sin does not nullify the plan of salvation. Rather, it emphasizes the personal Exodus and the passion of things.

Different faces and circumstances become sacraments of Grace, Love so open that no human narrowness can close.

Even a non-one-way personal formation is well recalled by the thousand unusual presences of a multipolar world [as an intimate and concrete appeal].

In this way, every heterogeneous aspect is now finally appreciated as an added value, instead of being considered a “carnal” or “impurity” expression.

In short, our attitude as sisters and brothers imitates divine magnanimity: we welcome willingly and freely those who are 'different' and those without great energy or appeal.

Not because we are or they are 'good', but so that we all become good. And by being close, together, in an unforeseen, therefore vital way; overeminent one.

To internalize and live the message:

What does not elevate your relationships? and the complete sense of you?

[Monday 31st wk. in O.T.  November 3, 2025]

Among the many gifts that we buy and receive, let us not forget the true gift: to give each other something of ourselves, to give each other something of our time, to open our time to God. In this way anxiety disappears, joy is born, and the feast is created. During the festive meals of these days let us remember the Lord’s words: "When you give a dinner or a banquet, do not invite those who will invite you in return, but invite those whom no one invites and who are not able to invite you" (cf. Lk 14:12-14). This also means: when you give gifts for Christmas, do not give only to those who will give to you in return, but give to those who receive from no one and who cannot give you anything back. This is what God has done: he invites us to his wedding feast, something which we cannot reciprocate, but can only receive with joy. Let us imitate him! Let us love God and, starting from him, let us also love man, so that, starting from man, we can then rediscover God in a new way!

[Pope Benedict, homily 24 December 2006]

12. Is Justice Enough? 

It is not difficult to see that in the modern world the sense of justice has been reawakening on a vast scale; and without doubt this emphasizes that which goes against justice in relationships between individuals, social groups and "classes," between individual peoples and states, and finally between whole political systems, indeed between what are called "worlds." This deep and varied trend, at the basis of which the contemporary human conscience has placed justice, gives proof of the ethical character of the tensions and struggles pervading the world. 

The Church shares with the people of our time this profound and ardent desire for a life which is just in every aspect, nor does she fail to examine the various aspects of the sort of justice that the life of people and society demands. This is confirmed by the field of Catholic social doctrine, greatly developed in the course of the last century. On the lines of this teaching proceed the education and formation of human consciences in the spirit of justice, and also individual undertakings, especially in the sphere of the apostolate of the laity, which are developing in precisely this spirit. 

And yet, it would be difficult not to notice that very often programs which start from the idea of justice and which ought to assist its fulfillment among individuals, groups and human societies, in practice suffer from distortions. Although they continue to appeal to the idea of justice, nevertheless experience shows that other negative forces have gained the upper hand over justice, such as spite, hatred and even cruelty. In such cases, the desire to annihilate the enemy, limit his freedom, or even force him into total dependence, becomes the fundamental motive for action; and this contrasts with the essence of justice, which by its nature tends to establish equality and harmony between the parties in conflict. This kind of abuse of the idea of justice and the practical distortion of it show how far human action can deviate from justice itself, even when it is being undertaken in the name of justice. Not in vain did Christ challenge His listeners, faithful to the doctrine of the Old Testament, for their attitude which was manifested in the words: An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth."111 This was the form of distortion of justice at that time; and today's forms continue to be modeled on it. It is obvious, in fact, that in the name of an alleged justice (for example, historical justice or class justice) the neighbor is sometimes destroyed, killed, deprived of liberty or stripped of fundamental human rights. The experience of the past and of our own time demonstrates that justice alone is not enough, that it can even lead to the negation and destruction of itself, if that deeper power, which is love, is not allowed to shape human life in its various dimensions. It has been precisely historical experience that, among other things, has led to the formulation of the saying: summum ius, summa iniuria. This statement does not detract from the value of justice and does not minimize the significance of the order that is based upon it; it only indicates, under another aspect, the need to draw from the powers of the spirit which condition the very order of justice, powers which are still more profound. 

The Church, having before her eyes the picture of the generation to which we belong, shares the uneasiness of so many of the people of our time. Moreover, one cannot fail to be worried by the decline of many fundamental values, which constitute an unquestionable good not only for Christian morality but simply for human morality, for moral culture: these values include respect for human life from the moment of conception, respect for marriage in its indissoluble unity, and respect for the stability of the family. Moral permissiveness strikes especially at this most sensitive sphere of life and society. Hand in hand with this go the crisis of truth in human relationships, lack of responsibility for what one says, the purely utilitarian relationship between individual and individual, the loss of a sense of the authentic common good and the ease with which this good is alienated. Finally, there is the "desacralization" that often turns into "dehumanization": the individual and the society for whom nothing is "sacred" suffer moral decay, in spite of appearances.

[Pope John Paul II, Dives in Misericordia]

For salvation there is 'one ticket in'. But with a few caveats. First of all, it is free; and then the holders will surely be women and men who are 'in need of care and healing in body and soul'. It is easy to imagine that in the first places are 'sinners, the poor and the sick', the so-called 'last ones' in short. Celebrating Mass at Santa Marta on Tuesday, 7 November, Pope Francis revived the Gospel image - taken from the passage in Luke (14:15-24) - of the banquet to which the master of the house invites "the poor, the crippled, the blind and the lame" after the refusal of the rich who do not understand the value of the gratuitousness of salvation.

"The Gospel texts we have heard this week, these last days, are framed in a banquet," Francis was quick to point out. It is "the Lord who goes to the house of a leader of the Pharisees to dine and there he is rebuked because he does not do his ablutions". Then, the Pope continued, "during the banquet the Lord advises us not to seek the first places because there is the danger that one who is more important will come and the host will say, 'Give way to this one, move over!' That would be a disgrace."

"The passage continues," said the Pontiff, "with the advice the Lord gives to those who are to be invited to a banquet at home". And he points precisely to "those who cannot give you reciprocation, that is, those who have nothing to give you in return". Here is "the gratuitousness of the banquet". So "when he had finished explaining this, one of the diners - this is today's passage - said to Jesus, 'Blessed is he who takes food in the kingdom of God!'" The Lord "answered him with a parable, without explanation, of this man who gave a great dinner and made many guests". But "the first guests did not want to go to dinner, they cared neither about the dinner nor about the people who were there, nor about the Lord who was inviting them: they cared about other things".

And in fact one after the other they began to apologise, So, the Pope pointed out, 'the first one said to him: "I bought a field"; the other: "I bought five pairs of oxen"; another: "I got married"; but each had his own interest and this interest was greater than the invitation'. The fact is, said Francis, that 'these were attached to the interest: what can I gain? So to a free invitation the answer is: 'I don't care, maybe another day, I'm so busy, I can't go'. "Busy" but for his own "interests: busy like that man who wanted, after the harvest of grain, to make stores to enlarge his possessions. Poor man, he died that night".

These people are attached "to interest to such an extent that" they fall into "a slavery of the spirit" and "are incapable of understanding the gratuitousness of the invitation". But "if one does not understand the gratuitousness of God's invitation, one understands nothing," the Pope warned. God's initiative, in fact, "is always gratuitous: what do you have to pay to go to this banquet? The entrance ticket is to be sick, is to be poor, is to be a sinner". Precisely this 'is the ticket of entry: to be needy both in body and soul'. And 'by need', Francis reiterated, is meant 'needing care, needing healing, needing love'.

"Here," the Pontiff explained, "we see the two attitudes". God's "is always gratuitous: to save God does not charge anything, he is free". And also, Francis added, "we say the word, somewhat abstractly, 'universal'", in the sense that to the servant "the 'angry' master" says: "Go out immediately to the squares, to the streets of the city and bring in the poor, the crippled, the blind, the lame". In Matthew's other version, the master says: "good and bad: all, everyone", because "God's gratuitousness has no limits: everyone, he receives everyone".

"Instead, those who have their own interest," the Pope continued, "do not understand gratuitousness. They are like the son who stayed by his father's side when the youngest left and then, after a long time, he came back poor and the father makes feast and this one does not want to enter that feast, he does not want to enter that feast because he does not understand: "He spent all the money, he spent the inheritance, with the vices, with the sins, you make him feast? And I who am a Catholic, practical, I go to mass every Sunday, I fulfil things, nothing to me?".

The fact is that 'he does not understand the gratuitousness of salvation, he thinks that salvation is the fruit of "I pay and you save me": I pay with this, with this'. Instead "no, salvation is gratuitous". And "if you do not enter into this dynamic of gratuitousness you understand nothing".

Salvation in fact, Francis affirmed, "is a gift from God to which one responds with another gift, the gift of my heart". However, there are those 'who have other interests, when they hear about the gifts: "Yes, it is true, yes, but gifts must be given". And they immediately think: 'Here, I will give this gift and he will give me another one tomorrow and the day after'". Thus there is "always reciprocation".

Instead "the Lord asks nothing in return: only love, faithfulness, as he is love and he is faithful". Because "salvation is not bought, one simply enters the banquet: 'Blessed is he who takes food in the kingdom of God!'". And 'this is salvation'.

In fact, the Pope confided, "I ask myself: what do these people who are unwilling to come to this banquet feel? They feel secure, they feel safe, they feel saved in their own way outside the banquet". And 'they have lost the sense of gratuitousness, they have lost the sense of love and they have lost something greater and more beautiful still, and this is very bad: they have lost the capacity to feel loved'. And, he added, 'when you lose - I am not saying the capacity to love, because that can be recovered - the capacity to feel loved, there is no hope: you have lost everything'.

Moreover, the Pontiff concluded, all this 'makes us think of the words written at the door of Dante's inferno "Leave hope": you have lost everything'. On our part, we must instead look at the master of the house who wants his house to be filled: 'he is so loving that in his gratuitousness he wants to fill the house'. And so "we ask the Lord to save us from losing the capacity to feel loved".

[Pope Francis, S. Marta homily, in L'Osservatore Romano 08/11/2017]