(Jn 17:1-11a)

Even in the fourth Gospel the Last Supper is followed by Jesus’ prayer, but unlike the Synoptics, Jn places it in the same Upper Room.

In the narrative of the first three Gospels, several notes tell of the Lord's intimate repugnance to the Cross - from which, however, He does not shy away, from which He does not allow himself to be overcome.

Here He only asks the Father for the indestructible quality of the Life of the Eternal in favour of his own, who have already come to know the intimacy of God: it opens up every reverberation.

To acknowledge the Son of Man as Lord is to accept a new form of existence in the Spirit.

Like a Wind that [regenerating us from within] makes itself the medium and continuer of the work of creation.

We are witnesses to a founding, glorious Relationship, that is of such value that it reactivates all destiny - beyond concatenations.

Such a platform overcomes the sense of unworthiness.

On it, here we are enabled to become passionate ‘inventors of roads’ everywhere.

Introduced into a Communion which is already here and now «Life of the Eternal» (vv.2-3). It comes from the ‘knowing’ the Father and the Son.

And it is concentrated in an Hour (v.1): an allusion that had run through the entire fourth Gospel.

Jesus' existence converges in the fruitful rawness of that point, which gives depth to everything.

The text differs from previous catecheses in that it is more amicable than teaching.

The Master retraces his story as a commitment to manifest the Father, to make us become signs of his Face.

Christ understands that the children are subject to seductions, and they risk losing the meaning of the believing in Him. Indeed, they still find it difficult to understand that Glory is not the fruit of worldly victory.

«Glory» in Jn stands for the manifestation of the Face of Eternal Love in the raising of the Cross.

Presence of the God-With - unveiling of His confidence, understanding, tenderness, recovery of opposing sides.

In this way, Glory of the Risen One is not a Relationship that remains closed in Heaven, between Father and Son.

The latter has given his intimates the «Name» (vv.6.11) i.e. revealed the Father and given access to his real Person - including the struggles undertaken.

Person who feeds us with the Word, and the sense of His events.

Such an unmistakable Voice reminds that every travail can lead us deeper with Jesus into the Glory and eternity of the Father.

God's intimate life is intensity of understanding; reciprocity that flows into expanded, open, fervent union, tending to transmute every tribulation into an appeal to new kabôd-glory.

It is about the specific [qualitative] weight that the believer assumes in a Heaven also perceivable by the senses.

Any difficulty, anguish, insecurity, now even becomes a point to converge on.

Like the Lord, the disciples do not go to death, but to the Way of complete Life that annihilates distance.

All this through a unity that deflects habits and puts one in touch with the energies of the intimate primordial bond, source-and-culmination, Father-Son.

[Tuesday 7th wk. in Easter, June 3, 2025]

(Jn 17:1-11a)

In the Fourth Gospel, too, the Last Supper is followed by Jesus' prayer, but unlike the Synoptics, Jn places it in the same place as the Last Supper.

In the narrative of the first three Gospels, several notes tell of the Lord's intimate repugnance to the Cross - from which, however, he does not shy away, from which he does not allow himself to be overcome.

Here he only asks the Father for the indestructible quality of the Life of the Eternal in favour of his own, who have already come to know the intimacy of God: it opens up every reverberation.

To acknowledge the Son of Man as Lord is to accept a new form of existence in the Spirit.

Like a Wind that [regenerating from within] makes itself the medium and continuer of the work of creation.

The nature, character and purpose of the Salvation Mission could not be undermined by normal adherence to the precepts and pious devotions of the 'world' (vv.9.11). Configurations always careful to warn us of what might happen if...

The Father-Son relationship directs the disciples, but the Spirit who gives impetus does not warn them about the destiny that awaits them. Why?

We do not go lightly towards labours, tears, humiliations - but in reality [through death] we are going like Christ, to the Father.

We are reaching out for the transmutation of state that in human history brings redemption, flashing in the very signs of the Son, united with God's excellent design.

We are witnesses of a founding, glorious Relation, that is, of such value as to enable us to rework cultures flattened on the chronological dimension of cause-effect concatenations. All this, to reactivate all destiny.

Such a platform glosses over the sense of unworthiness.

On it, here we are enabled to become passionate 'inventors of roads' everywhere.

Here we are, no longer a mass destined to mull over imperfections - or deviations from the standard, obsessively detected by official religious law, as well as fashions.

Introduced into a Communion that is already here and now Life of the Eternal. Not contraband, not fashionable.

The "Life of the Eternal" (vv.2-3) springs from 'knowing' the Father and the Son. It is concentrated in an Hour (v.1): an allusion that had run through the entire fourth Gospel.

The existence of Jesus converges in the fruitful rawness of that point, which gives depth to everything: because in the Son and the sons a twofold 'glorification' is manifested.

On the one hand, the unusual aspect of a God who does not intend to be obeyed and revered at all: from the step foreign to the normal devotion that enclosed everyone in the enclosure of prescriptions and standardised thinking.

On the other hand, in ourselves who participate in this downward push, which elevates us - what remains of Christ's world - different logical presences and a different life principle arise.

Alterities, even dreams of escape, which precisely reveal Him and give Him glory.

All of this thanks to a unity that deflects habits and brings us into contact with the great intimate and creaturely energies, made to reflect a different nature of relatedness: of the primordial bond, source-and-culmination, Father-Son.

Chapter 17 concludes the vast reflection of the previous passages with a heartfelt and concerned prayer of the Lord for his churches, subjected to distractions, doubts, and labours.

The Priestly Prayer was intended to make believers internalise the sense of the painful time that the Johannine communities were going through.

The text differs from previous catecheses in that it is more amicable than teaching.

The Master traces his story as a commitment to manifest the Father, to make us become signs of his Face.

Christ understands that the children are subject to seductions, and risk losing the meaning of believing in Him.

Indeed, they still find it difficult to understand that Glory is not the fruit of worldly victory.

"Glory" in Jn is synonymous with the manifestation of the Face of Eternal Love in the rising of the Cross.

Presence of the God-With - unveiling of his confidence, understanding, tenderness, recovery of opposing sides.

In this way, the Glory of the Risen One is not a Relationship that remains closed in Heaven, between Father and Son.

The latter has given his intimates the "Name" (vv.6.11) i.e. revealed the Father and given access to his real Person - including the struggles undertaken.

Person who feeds us with the Word, and the meaning of its events.

Such an unmistakable Voice reminds us that every travail can bring us deeper with Jesus into the Glory and eternity of the Father.

The intimate life of God is intensity of understanding; reciprocity that flows into dilated, open, fervent union, tending to transmute every tribulation into an appeal to new kabôd-glory.

This is the specific [qualitative] weight that the believer assumes in a heaven also perceptible to the senses.

"We can compare the union between Christ and us to the union between two wax candles, joined together so closely that they emit one light" (s. Teresa of Avila, Mansions, VII).

Any difficulty, anguish, insecurity, now even becomes a point to converge.

Like the Lord, the disciples do not go to death, but to the Way of complete Life that annihilates distance.

To internalise and live the message:

What do you consider "glorious"?

How do you penetrate the intimacy of the Son with the Father?

To love is to create: Glory

Commandment Liberation. Source Cause

(Jn 13:31-35)

Judas is among the guests, but he does not assimilate the Bread. He takes it, yes. But he does not take it at all.

He takes it and leaves, to run after his illusions of having and power. To pursue the occult pact, with the old spiritual guides.

Thus he 'sinks into the night'. Reminder for each of us.

Despite this, divine Glory manifests itself - even in the limit. It is Love without preconditions. Difference between relationship of Faith and code of devotions.

Paradoxical realisation. Source and Summit of the Core of Being. Unveiling and Manifestation of what God Himself is.

We are in the "Hour": announced by the whole unfolding of the Fourth Gospel. Love that does not depend.

Invincible Love, which does not fail even as a result of our uncertainties and inflections, or our denials.

We who are supposed to be His Intimates. Friends and Brothers of the "Son of Man".

"Son of Man" already designates from the First Testament the character of a holiness that surpasses the ancient fiction of the rulers, who piled on top of each other reciting the same script.

The masses remained dry-mouthed: whichever ruler seized power, the petty crowd remained subdued and suffocated.

The same rule was in force in religions, whose leaders lavished the people with a strong horde impulse and the contentment of the gregarious.

In contrast, in the Kingdom of Jesus there must be a lack of ranks - which is why his proposal does not fit in with the ambitions of the authorities, and with the Apostles' own expectations.

They too wanted to 'count'. 

But precisely 'Son of Man' is the person according to a criterion of humanisation, not a beast that prevails because it is stronger than the others [cf. Dan 7].

Every man with a heart of flesh - not of beast, nor of stone - is an understanding person, capable of listening, always attentive to the needs of the other, who makes himself available.

All this alludes to the broad dimension of holiness; transmissible to anyone, and as creative as love, therefore all to be discovered! 

In the Gospels, the "Son of Man" is the true and full development of the divine plan on humanity.

Such a plan is not hindered by the frequenters of bad places.

It is not a proposal compromised with doctrine-and-discipline religion, which drives back eccentricities.

That of the 'Son of Man' is the kind of holiness that makes us unique, not one that always abhors or exorcises the danger of the unusual.

In short, Jesus entrusts his Testament to the disciples. Mutual union is the Lord's Last Will. With a radical novelty.

Love for one's neighbour was already among the ancient prescriptions, and Christ seems to trace its very formulation (Leviticus 19:18).

Yet the Son does not only allude to compatriots and proselytes of his own religion.

He breaks down barriers hitherto considered obvious.

In fact, mutual love is on the same line as the encounter with oneself - where by grace and vocation lurks a possession of riches, of growing perfections, that want to surface.

From such a treasure chest-knowledge, a solid platform, arises the afflatus of being able to give life: but to increase it, make it full and cheer it up.

Starting not from external conditioning.

In fact, the commandment is 'new' not only because it is edifying and stimulating; even unsurpassable, and capable of supplanting all norms.

Above all, because it reveals one's own Vocation.

It expresses a manifestative bond, which becomes foundation, growing motive and driving force; lucid energy, which gives us the ability to shift our gaze and turn the page.

It introduces a new age, a new realm. Not one-sided.

It is the figure of the victory of Easter, theophany and testimony of its authentic People: "not with measure" (John 3:31-36: 34).

The "without measure" is that of the mystical wedding between the two "natures", of the intimate friendship that penetrates the life of the Father.

"Glory" [irreducible] with special characteristics.

Now the morality of ancient philosophies no longer applies: ours is a vocational and paschal ethic, in the Spirit who renews the face of the earth.

Every purpose is illuminated by the victory of life over death. In this way, behaviour is configured to the Mystery.

We live in Christ, the new man: we are no longer under 'proper' duties and prescriptions.

The baptismal attitude cannot be 'measured'.

The anointing and the call received respond to the intimate passion, the sense of reciprocity and personal fullness.In this way they move eminent goals: in participation in the fullness of life, excess that cannot be assimilated to conformism and average horizons.

For a pious Israelite to have 'glory' is to give specific 'weight' to one's existence, and to reveal its full value - but sometimes in an elective sense.

Blossoming is our complete 'pondus' and character and worth, which, however, germinate from the whole universe within, and from the different faces that belong to us; even from the 'shadow sides'.

Here is the blossoming of Messianic Peace-Presence; a sense of Friendship with the whole being and roots, with history and the sign of the times.

For the more human we are without duplicity, and the more capable we are of reading events, and the more sensitive we are in grasping the variegated powers - that Someone within something... the more the Heaven within us manifests itself.

This is the emblem of the New Commandment, which marks difference. Integrating; making opposites coexist in us.

New Covenant; new harmony.

Making us complete from within, like Jesus. Glory of the Father, and of humanity.

Mutual union is the Lord's ultimate will. Jesus entrusts his testament to the disciples, with a radical novelty.

Love for one's neighbour was already among the ancient prescriptions, and Christ seems to trace its very formulation (Lev 19:18).

But the Son of God does not only allude to compatriots and proselytes of the same religion. He breaks down barriers hitherto considered obvious. 

Yet the great novelty is in the fundamental motivation.

Mutual love is on the same line as the encounter with oneself - where by grace and vocation lurks a possession of riches, growing perfections, that want to surface.

From such a treasure chest, knowledge, solid platform, arises the afflatus of being able to give life: but to increase it, make it full and cheer it up - starting not from external conditioning.

In fact, the commandment is 'new' not only because it is edifying and stimulating, but first and foremost because it reveals one's vocation.

It is a manifestative bond, which becomes foundation, growing motive and driving force; lucid energy, which gives us the ability to shift our gaze and turn the page: it ushers in a new age, a new kingdom.

It is the figure of the victory of Easter, theophany and testimony of its authentic people: "not with measure" (Jn 3:31-36: 34).

The "without measure" is that of the mystical wedding between the two "natures", of the intimate friendship that penetrates the life of the Father.

Even in the waiting, the boundlessness vivifies existence and fulfils it, coming from the experience of substance and vertigo.

It is the life of the Son in us: perception of a constitutive 'being'. Therefore without losing interest in the time of absence.

And of being able to change; intuition of a different (irreducible) "glory" with special characteristics.

Now the morality of the ancient religions no longer applies: ours is a vocational and paschal ethics, in the Spirit that renews the face of the earth.

Every purpose is illuminated by the victory of life over death. In this way, behaviour is configured to the Mystery.

We live in Christ, the new man: we are no longer under 'proper' duties and prescriptions. The baptismal attitude cannot be "measured".

The anointing and the call received respond to the intimate passion, the sense of reciprocity and personal fullness, which transcend.

Thus they move eminent goals: in participation in the fullness of life, excess that cannot be assimilated to conformism and average horizons.

For a pious Israelite to have glory is to give specific weight to one's existence, and to reveal its full value - but in an elective sense.

"Was it true glory?" - Manzoni asks himself: from glory-vain and vain it rolls down. Quite another is glory as the real Presence of God.

Only if we are placed on the same wave of beauty and fascination as the 'Son of Man' do we contribute to not letting it fade or exclude it: the more we are human without duplicity, the more Heaven that is in us manifests itself.

The badge, the emblem of the full witness of children and outspoken communities is not its own production.

It retains an indestructible quality of elasticity and relationship that does not dismay, nor does it drop its arms: it gives breath.

This is the New Commandment, which marks difference.

Mutual union is the Lord's ultimate will. Jesus entrusts his testament to the disciples, with a radical novelty.

Love for one's neighbour was already among the ancient prescriptions, and Christ seems to trace its very formulation (Lev 19:18).

But the Son of God does not only allude to compatriots and proselytes of the same religion. He breaks down barriers hitherto considered obvious. 

Yet the great novelty is in the fundamental motivation.

Mutual love is on the same line as the encounter with oneself - where by grace and vocation lurks a possession of riches, growing perfections, that want to surface.From such a treasure chest, knowledge, solid platform, arises the afflatus of being able to give life: but to increase it, make it full and cheer it up - not from external conditioning and tasks to be performed or exploited.

In fact, the commandment is 'new' not only because it is edifying and stimulating, but first and foremost because it reveals one's vocation and the intimate life of God, the relationship between the Father and the Son, assumed.

It is a manifestative bond, which becomes a foundation, a growing motive and a driving force; lucid energy, which gives us the ability to shift our gaze and turn the page: it ushers in a new age, a new kingdom.

The "new" commandment of love - Christ's only delivery - is the figure of the Easter victory, theophany and testimony of his authentic people: "not with measure" (Jn 3:31-36: 34).

The "without measure" is that of the mystical wedding between the two "natures", of the intimate friendship that penetrates the life of the Father.

Even in the waiting, the boundlessness vivifies existence and fulfils it, coming from the experience of substance and vertigo - already in itself.

It is the life of the Son in us: perception of a constitutive 'being'. Therefore without losing interest in the time of absence.

And of being able to change; intuition of a different (irreducible) "glory" with special characteristics.

Now the morality of religions no longer applies: ours is a vocational and paschal ethics, in the Spirit that renews the face of the earth.

Every purpose, every role, every ministry, is illuminated by the victory of life over death.

In this way, behaviour is configured to the Mystery.

We live in Christ, the new man: we are no longer under 'proper' duties and prescriptions. The baptismal attitude cannot be measured.

The anointing and the call received respond to the intimate passion, the sense of reciprocity and personal fullness, which transcend.

Thus they move eminent goals: in participation in the fullness of life, excess that cannot be assimilated to conformism and average horizons.

For a pious Israelite to have glory is to give specific weight to one's existence, and to reveal its full value - but in an elective sense.

"Was it true glory?" - Manzoni asks himself: from glory-vain and vain it rolls down. Quite another glory as the real Presence of God.

Here are the disagreements between community and humanity (persons in fullness); liturgy and reality, prayer and listening, theology and life, proclamations and behind the scenes.

While the Synoptics proclaim universal love, the author of the Fourth Gospel is concerned that the unexpressed testimony of the children is not a blatant denial of the holiness preached to others [by the 'elect'].

As Paul VI said: 'Contemporary man listens more willingly to witnesses than to teachers'. Not only for an appropriate and due evaluation of moral coherence, but because they refer to the Mystery, to divine Gold.

Only if we are placed on the same wave of beauty and fascination as the "Son of Man" do we contribute to not letting it fade away or exclude it: the more human we are without duplicity, the more Heaven is manifested within us.

Of course, it seems impossible to love "like" Him (v.34), but here the Greek expression has another way of reading it. The original term does not merely indicate an ideal horizon or the lofty measure - unattainable by effort.

"Kathòs" [adverb and conjunction] is endowed with generative as well as comparative value.

The key expression of the passage can be understood as: "Love one another because I have loved you unconditionally" or "Because I have loved you unconditionally, on such a wave of life, you can now love one another".

It means: making one's neighbour feel already enabled - adequate and free - is the only unreduced mark of faith in Christ.

In short, the Father is not the God of prescriptions: he does not absorb our energies, but generates and dilates them.

He does not pretend to suffocate and exhaust us.

The badge, the emblem of the full witness of children and outspoken communities is not its own production.

It retains an indestructible quality of elasticity and relationship that does not dismay, nor does it drop arms: it gives breath.

It is not the work of fanatical pro- and anti-subversives, nor of a devout individualism that preaches the 'salvation of one's own soul' - an exasperation of religious piety and the pedestrian retributive morality of 'merits'.

It is the unfolding of the action of the Son of Man (v. 31) that empowers the downtrodden and petty.

The Master is not content to be a gregarious follower, like the heterodox Judas, a zealous apostle in appearance.

"Son of man" indicates Jesus who manifests the Father, the man who makes manifest the divine condition.

The Person who in his human fullness reflects the wholesome design of the Origins - possibility for all reborn in Christ.

The carnal feeling is in a hurry to regulate itself on the basis of goals and titles; of achievements and success, or of the beloved's perfections and prestige. 

It sets boundaries.Divine Love (and that of children) is disproportionate, it has a different conduct: it prevents, it recovers; it does not break understanding, it helps.

Non-wandering Love knows the small, the uncertain and the weak. It knows that they only grow through the experience of the Gift, otherwise they get stuck.

If the Free does not supplant merit, no one grows stronger; on the contrary, all - even the energetic - shrink. Condemned to an external cloak of norms and doctrines, or of disembodied abstractions and sophistications.

That is why the 'Son of Man' - the genuine and full development of the divine plan for mankind - is not hindered by public sinners, but by those who suppose of themselves and would have the ministry of making it known!

Divine glory has nothing to do with uniforms, coats, cockades or epidermal badges; it is manifested in the Communion without prior interdictions, in the service that is rendered to the inadequate and unmanifested - from which to hope for zero.

Nothing that can then be supplemented by adding a little something - a mere 'completion' - to the norms of the First Covenant [which did not insist on God-likeness but on mass obedience].

Fundamentalist inclinations, or circumstantial and à la page manners, the lust for worldly prestige - in reality - divide.

The conviviality of differences encompasses, dilates, accentuates the amalgam and unites, enriching. It opens to the unusual and unimaginable.

Founders of religions propose a worldview and are static models of behaviour.

They do not propose a growing offer (Jn 14:12: "greater works"). Widely personal invitations - deep and sharp, more so than their own.

Jesus is not a predictable 'model' to be imitated.

He is above all - we repeat - a Motive and an Engine: let us love like and because Christ. Living by Him, each one.

We risk everything because we are within an Event that we have seen, of a Relationship that not only persuades, but leads us and generates beyond; not in a downward spiral.

We are no longer under a Law that appoints God by obligation, but in the challenge of a gesture that re-creates and gradually fulfils, making our weakness strong.

So much so that shadow sides become resources and amazement. All without depersonalising; on the contrary, emphasising uniqueness.

This is the 'new' commandment.

"Kainòs" is a Greek term that marks difference, eclipses the rest - in the sense that it sums up, surpasses and replaces. It supersedes all commandments: obvious and conditional.

And there will not be a better one, because our hope is not Heaven (ready), but Heaven on earth.

More than the too far of the old final Paradise with invariable fare and predictable fulfilment. Modic, conformist, sectoral; even there articulated according to roles.

And pyramidal.

To deepen the evangelical theme of Glory:

Give your life and quickly betray

(Jn 13:21-33.36-38)

"I will lay down my life for you" - in order to lead.

The apostles would give everything to win, not to lose; to triumph, not to be mocked or fed, and to heal the world.

Better to negotiate. Rather than wash each other's feet!

That is why the Lord wants each of us diners to ask the question whether we are not involved in some betrayal.

Not to blame and plant ourselves there, but to meet each other: each is an admirer and an adversary of the Master.

We are splendour and darkness - coexisting sides, more or less integrated, even competitive.

It is the Resurrection that lurks in the effervescence of life, redeeming then the selfish motivations, and transfiguring into collimating energies elsewhere the dark and frictional sides.

Aspects that become like baby food, for each new genesis - which once they have emerged [planted in the earth and pulled up by the roots] can become strengths.

The road is only blocked in front of the person who continues to have his soul conditioned by old or à la page opinions and evils.

Nothing is revealed there; the miracle of the transmutation of our abyss will not take place.

The liturgy of the Word brings us into contact with a Jesus pervaded by a sense of weakness; his loneliness becomes acute.

In mission, we too are sometimes at the mercy of despondency: perhaps God has deceived us, dragging us into an absurd enterprise?

No, we are not deceived and abandoned to an ignoble logic, to a perverse generation: the power of life itself is strewn with tombstones and has various faces. Beneficial influences.

The favourable path is devoid of prestige, recognised tasks and majesty: they tend to placate us, and not dig in.

It is often disturbances that improve judgement.

The dripping can arouse the voice of the most authentic part of ourselves, become an incisive echo to find ourselves, and complete ourselves - bringing forward the pioneering heart, instead of holding it back.

The road of trial and imbalance awakens us from the harmful ageing of the spirit.It recovers the opposing energies, the opposing sides, and the incompatible desires, the (allied) passions to which we have not given space.

Even in the torturing experience of limitation, God wants to reach out to our variegated seed, so that it does not allow itself to be despoiled - not even by the dismay of having drawn the morsel together and having been the traitor.

Nothing is crippling.

There is only one toxic, chronic sphere of death, which annihilates everything and has no active germs in it: that which obscures and detests primary change.

There the horizon narrows and all that remains is a chasm - or the blandness that infects to make us give up, and relentlessly retreat, deny and regress again.

All that remains are the fears, the half-choices, the neuroses silenced by the compromise that attempts to fill the precious sense of emptiness.

We are faced with a Lord reduced to nothing, so that we too can understand ourselves in our defections; in the episodes in which we camp useless and deviant contrivances, all measured, that fatigue in vain.

The story of the incomprehensible loneliness of Christ beside the traitor and the renegade is written in our hearts.

It is all reality, but for salvation, for renewed intimacy and conviction.

The missionary vocation is extinguished and stagnates only by ballast of calculation and common mentality - where the naked poverty of the discordant being that we are does not shake (nor tinkle).

Without the abandonment undergone, man does not become universal, rather he tends to attenuate the best instruments of God's power.

On that steppe terrain He is giving us the friendship of a shift in our gaze.

Without the restlessness of deep and humiliating upheaval - without the surrender of one's humanity in extreme weakness - our unsatisfied puppet lingers, content.

Despite its admiration for values, it too becomes a residual larva. A caricature of the being we could be: women and men with a contemplative eye.

Completed from within, like Jesus.

To internalise and live the message:

What do I draw when the Lord asks me to risk?

What do unfriendly gestures and rejection mean to you, in the paradoxical outcomes?

Glory to one another: the Seed within and the entourage without

The Greatest Witness

(Jn 5:31-47)

"Christians are a priestly people for the world. Christians should make the living God visible to the world, bear witness to Him and lead it to Him".

"Jesus loved men in the Father, from the Father - and so loved them in their true being, in their reality."

[Pope Benedict].

Jesus does not love catwalks. The Son remains immersed in the Father: he does not receive support and glory from fashionable men or ancient perimeters, because he is not imbued with normal human cultural religious expectations.

They prevent the perception of what we do not know, therefore they conceal the exceptional nature of the particular name; they drench the head and the gaze with current and pedestrian normality, which condition, dissociate, plagiarise, make external.

Predictable expectations delay the germination of the Kingdom of God and its alternative character - in the living experience of further exchanges; of other interpersonal qualities, in the completeness of being that belongs to us.

The specific weight of this unprecedented present and future, which corresponds because it is part of our intimate essence, otherwise remains in the hands of obvious opinions and the usual cheap dragging, which does not expose.

The pathology of reputation, of accredited convictions and the concordant praxis on the side, precludes winging it. But every short and rigid hope rejects God for God's sake.

Only that which is not petrified and conventional bears witness to Christ the Lord, the likeness of the Father who does not reject our eccentricities: he wants to make them grow - recovering their flourishing opposites.

The same 'no moments' that crumble prestige are also a spring to activate us and not stagnate in the same old situations; regenerating, moving forward elsewhere.

Failures that put fame in the balance serve to make us realise what we had not noticed, thus deviating from a conformist destiny.

In short, our Heaven is intertwined with our transmuting flesh, our earth and our dust: it lies within and below, not behind the clouds or in the manners.

In the paradoxical deification of the coming God, the all-worldly mentality of every purist or conformist circle experiences a reversal. Cipher of the great Wisdom of nature.

This is how Master Lü Hui-ch'ing comments on a famous passage from the Tao Tê Ching (LXXVI): "Heaven is on high for ch'ì, Earth is on low for form: ch'ì is soft and weak, form is hard and strong".

The trial-religious aspect to which the story of Jesus [even his intimates] was subjected often appears in John.

The aspirations of the pious men of old are strangely hinged on the need to make a body and recognise one another. Hence always 'those from before'.Their world, centred on the honour one receives: the theme is Glory - which, however, becomes a dialogue between the deaf. 'Doxa' in the Greek world means manifestation of prestige, honour, esteem.

In Hebrew, the term Glory [Kabôd] means specific, qualitative weight (and manifestation) of the transcendent.

So the glory that man gives to God - so to speak - is the opposite of the Hellenist criterion: the principle and evaluation typical of the strutting, 'free', independent and self-confident hero [because of the prestige around].

Conversely, here is 'glory' as humble and grateful recognition, but weighty in the Christian sense: familiar and humanising.

The woman and man called to a particular mission discover in themselves and in reality the conditions of perfection and imperfection.

They guide us to innate fulfilment - not volatile - and the common good, according to specific, personal contribution.

No one is called to artificial prestige and strength, adding something to the honour of what is already in one's vocational essence - sometimes in paradoxical completeness, for a conviviality of differences.

The Glory of Jesus himself was only the awareness and confession of being the Father's Envoy.

That is all we are entitled to - even in the sense of growth, of importance in itself, more than 'those who realise'.

The devout groups unfortunately not infrequently moved to a level of worldly aspirations - just with a strange mixture of criteria.

So they ended up appreciating each other in circles, patting each other on the back.

Thus - content to be confirmed - they still tend to accentuate the characteristics of what is normally identified as the spiritual dimension, and that easily becomes contaminated with the compromise of the artificial external look.

Instead, the inner balance of the Called by Name is re-established through dreams and the congenital character - rather than through weighing and the raw influences of conscious life, which distract and level the soul.

In fact, on such a slope, one tends to adopt attitudes that do not fit the very original vocation; on the contrary, they expose the consciousness to dissociations and conditionings that distort it.

The Way in the Spirit of Freedom, Love, Newness, is inspired by a dimension of Mystery and spontaneity all to be discovered: Exodus.

Such a character proceeds beyond compartments, denominations filled with established solutions, with conformist thinking hooked on an univocal way of reading the Scriptures and testimonies.

Cages, even 'spiritual' ones, guilt every different, inculcate brooding, curb the most fruitful eccentricities.

In order to ensure 'ecclesial' compactness, the various stigmas everywhere play on the inadequacy of the majority interpretation - and guilt typical of the particular 'container'.

Such framings do not reawaken creativity, rather they anaesthetise it according to internal clichés: where precisely they take "glory from one another" (v.44).

Frames do not teach one to launch oneself personally and at the right time.

The rhythm, too, does not descend on dissimilar inclinations, on their atypicality - a unique richness that prepares the unrepeatable and extravagant New that we do not already know.

Instruction booklets harass us with other people's progressions and goals to reach, all of which turn out to be yet to be surpassed - and outside our own taste and intimate sense; projected into the future, impersonal.

The 'spiritual' path of the pack reflects the life, judgement or idea of the leader and his 'magic' circle; the forma mentis of a generation or a class.

In this way, established trajectories do not announce changes and authentic encounters, which take place in the propulsive, transversal simplicity of the concrete unpredictable. 

Stubborn models do not make us aware of a God Person: He calls to life through impulses that would be new blood for transmutation.

The Eternal One communicates Himself in what He speaks within.

Precisely in the needs - not obsessing energies known only to the soul, of conflicts over useless duties, which neither solve anything nor transmit happiness.

The 'egocentric' religious ideology and all directed thought brand crises as inadequacies to collective purposeful actions - thus condemning instincts.

But instincts manifest themselves as escapes of the individual heart that seeks new listening, desires to surface and realise; it wants to integrate in its own way, or to chart paths that prepare for the future.

Not infrequently, the evocation of the usual delimited rituals - e.g. of 'charisma' - as well as the concatenation of normative constitutions, deaden the character in a levelled atmosphere, which drinks of recollected attunements.

They are not our land.

The barnyard of the 'system' operates according to directives and roles.

But compartments limit the range of action, although they seemingly dilute it.Trivial inclusions 'teach' us to be content with half-steps already chiselled into the little and not over the top.

This is so as not to allow for the regenerations that count.

The self-referential clan often takes away space from any possibility that moves from there.

This makes one dependent on applause. It slows down, when conversely we could dare.... 

Lest we continue to perceive healthy restlessness. Differences that would redeem us from subordination.

In fact, the one-sided imprint does not respect nature, so it reinforces what it says it wants to banish.

A disaster for a life of meaning and witness in Christ.

The Lord had as his only daily worship - precisely - the emptiness of social support (which did not accept his deviations) and the fullness of beginnings in the Father.

"But I have a greater witness than John, for the works that the Father has given me to do, the very works that I do, testify of me that the Father has sent me" (John 5:36).

To internalise and live the message:

How do you safeguard community living and your transpositions of Faith in Christ?

What is the point of homologation in satisfaction, and where do you place your Preciousness?

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

In today’s Catechesis let us focus our attention on the prayer that Jesus raises to the Father in the “Hour” of his exaltation and glorification (cf. Jn 17:1-26). As the Catechism of the Catholic Church says: “Christian Tradition rightly calls this prayer the ‘priestly’ prayer of Jesus. It is the prayer of our High Priest, inseparable from his sacrifice, from his “passing over” (Passover) to the Father to whom he is wholly ‘consecrated’” (n. 2747). 

The extreme richness of Jesus’ prayer can be understood especially if we set it against the backdrop of the Jewish feast of expiation, Yom Kippur. On that day the High Priest makes expiation first for himself and then for the category of priests, and, lastly, for the whole community of the people. The purpose is to restore to the People of Israel, after a year’s transgressions, the awareness of their reconciliation with God, the awareness that they are the Chosen People, a “holy people”, among the other peoples. The prayer of Jesus, presented in Chapter 17 of the Gospel according to John, returns to the structure of this feast. On that night Jesus addresses the Father at the moment when he is offering himself. He, priest and victim, prays for himself, for the Apostles and for all those who will believe in him and for the Church of all the time (cf. Jn 17:20).

The prayer that Jesus prays for himself is the request for his glorification, for his “exaltation” in his “Hour”. In fact, it is more than a prayer of petition, more than the declaration of his full willingness to enter, freely and generously, into the plan of God the Father, which is fulfilled in his being consigned and in his death and resurrection. This “Hour” began with Judas’ betrayal (cf. 13:31) and was to end in the ascension of the Risen Jesus to the Father (Jn 20:17). 

Jesus comments on Judas’ departure from the Upper Room with these words: “Now is the Son of man glorified, and in him God is glorified” (Jn 13:31). It is not by chance that he begins his priestly prayer saying: “Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son that the Son may glorify you” (Jn 17:1). 

The glorification that Jesus asks for himself as High Priest, is the entry into full obedience to the Father, an obedience that leads to his fullest filial condition: “And now, Father, glorify me in your own presence with the glory which I had with you before the world was made” (Jn 17:5). This readiness and this request are the first act of the new priesthood of Jesus, which is a total gift of himself on the Cross and on the Cross itself — the supreme act of love — he is glorified because love is the true glory, the divine glory.

The second moment of this prayer is the intercession that Jesus makes for the disciples who have been with him. They are those of whom Jesus can say to the Father: “I have manifested your name to the men whom you gave me out of the world; yours they were, and you gave them to me, and they have kept your word” (Jn 17:6). This “manifesting God’s name to m en” is the fulfilment of a new presence of the Father among the people, for humanity. This “manifesting” is not only a word, but is reality in Jesus; God is with us, and so his name — his presence with us, his being one of us — is “fulfilled”. This manifestation is thus realized in the Incarnation of the Word. In Jesus God enters human flesh, he becomes close in a new and unique way. And this presence culminates in the sacrifice that Jesus makes in his Pasch of death and Resurrection.

At the centre of this prayer of intercession and of expiation in favour of the disciples is the request for consecration; Jesus says to the Father: “They are not of the world, even as I am not of the world. Sanctify them in the truth; your word is truth. As you did send me into the world, so I have sent them into the world. And for their sake I consecrate myself, that they also may be consecrated in truth” (Jn 17:16-19). 

I ask: what does “consecrate” mean in this case? First of all it must be said that really only God is “consecrated” or “holy”. “To consecrate” therefore means “to transfer” a reality – a person or a thing – to become the property of God. And two complementary aspects are present in this: on the one hand, removing them from ordinary things, segregating, “setting them apart” from the context of personal human life so that they may be totally given to God; and on the other, this segregation, this transferal into God’s sphere, has the very meaning of “sending”, of mission: precisely because he or she is given to God, the reality, the consecrated person, exists “for” others, is given to others. Giving to God means no longer existing for oneself, but for everyone. Whoever, like Jesus, is segregated from the world and set apart for God with a view to a task is for this very reason, fully available to all. For the disciples the task will be to continue Jesus’ mission, to be given to God and thereby to be on mission for all. The Risen One, appearing to his disciples on Easter evening, was to say to them: “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, even so I send you” (Jn 20:21).

The third part of this priestly prayer extends to the end of time. In it Jesus turns to the Father in order to intercede for all those who will be brought to the faith through the mission inaugurated by the Apostles and continued in history: “I do not pray for these only, but also for those who believe in me through their world”. Jesus prays for the Church of all time, he also prays for us (Jn 17:20).

The  Catechism of the Catholic Church comments: “Jesus fulfilled the work of the Father completely; his prayer, like his sacrifice, extends until the end of time. The prayer of this hour fills the end-times and carries them toward their consummation” (n. 2749).

The central request of the priestly prayer of Jesus dedicated to his disciples of all epochs is that of the future unity of those who will believe in him. This unity is not a worldly product. It comes exclusively from the divine unity and reaches us from the Father, through the Son and in the Holy Spirit. Jesus invokes a gift that comes from Heaven and has its effect — real and perceptible — on earth. He prays “that they may all be one; even as you, Father are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me” (Jn 17:21). 

Christian unity, on the one hand, is a secret reality that is in the heart of believers. But, at the same time, it must appear with full clarity in history, it must appear so that the world may believe, it has a very practical and concrete purpose, it must appear so that all may really be one. The unity of future disciples, in being united with Jesus— whom the Father sent into the world — is also the original source of the efficacy of the Christian mission in the world.

“We can say that the founding of the Church takes place” in the priestly prayer of Jesus... In this very place, in the act of the Last Supper, Jesus creates the Church. “For what else is the Church, if not the community of disciples who through faith in Jesus Christ as the one sent by the Father”, receives his unity and is involved in Jesus’ mission to save the world, leading it to knowledge of God? Here we really find a true definition of the Church. “The Church is born from Jesus’ prayer. But this prayer is more than words; it is the act by which he ‘sanctifies’ himself, that is to say, he ‘sacrifices’ himself for the life of the world” (cf. Jesus of Nazareth, II, p. 101).

Jesus prays that his disciples may be one. By virtue of this unity, received and preserved, the Church can walk “in the world” without being “of the world” (cf. Jn 17:16) and can live the mission entrusted to her so that the world may believe in the Son and in the Father who sent him. Therefore the Church becomes the place in which the mission of Christ itself continues: to lead the “world” out of man’s alienation from God and out of himself, out of sin, so that it may return to being the world of God. 

Dear brothers and sisters, we have grasped a few elements of the great richness of the priestly prayer of Jesus, which I invite you to read and to meditate on so that it may guide us in dialogue with the Lord and teach us to pray. Let us too, therefore, in our prayers, ask God to help us to enter, more fully, into the design he has for each one of us. Let us ask him to be “consecrated” to him, to belong to him more and more, to be able to love others more and more, those who are near and far; let us ask him to be able always to open our prayer to the dimensions of the world, not closing it to the request for help with our problems but remembering our neighbour before the Lord, learning the beauty of interceding for others; let us ask him for the gift of visible unity among all believers in Christ — we have invoked it forcefully in this Week of Prayer for Christian Unity — let us pray to be ever ready to answer anyone who asks us to account for the hope that is in us (cf. 1 Pt 3:15). Many thanks.

[Pope Benedict, General Audience 25 January 2012]

It is Jesus in fact that you seek when you dream of happiness; he is waiting for you when nothing else you find satisfies you; he is the beauty to which you are so attracted; it is he who provokes you with that thirst for fullness that will not let you settle for compromise; it is he who urges you to shed the masks of a false life; it is he who reads in your hearts your most genuine choices, the choices that others try to stifle. It is Jesus who stirs in you the desire to do something great with your lives, the will to follow an ideal, the refusal to allow yourselves to be grounded down by mediocrity, the courage to commit yourselves humbly and patiently to improving yourselves and society, making the world more human and more fraternal. 

Dear young people, in these noble undertakings you are not alone. With you there are your families, there are your communities, there are your priests and teachers, there are so many of you who in the depths of your hearts never weary of loving Christ and believing in him. In the struggle against sin you are not alone: so many like you are struggling and through the Lord’s grace are winning! 

6. Dear friends, at the dawn of the Third Millennium I see in you the “morning watchmen” (cf. Is21:11-12). In the course of the century now past young people like you were summoned to huge gatherings to learn the ways of hatred; they were sent to fight against one another. The various godless messianic systems which tried to take the place of Christian hope have shown themselves to be truly horrendous. Today you have come together to declare that in the new century you will not let yourselves be made into tools of violence and destruction; you will defend peace, paying the price in your person if need be. You will not resign yourselves to a world where other human beings die of hunger, remain illiterate and have no work. You will defend life at every moment of its development; you will strive with all your strength to make this earth ever more livable for all people. 

Dear young people of the century now beginning, in saying “yes” to Christ, you say “yes” to all your noblest ideals. I pray that he will reign in your hearts and in all of humanity in the new century and the new millennium. Have no fear of entrusting yourselves to him! He will guide you, he will grant you the strength to follow him every day and in every situation.

[Pope John Paul II, Vigil at Tor Vergata, 19 August 2000]

After the Last Supper, the Lord, “lifted up his eyes to heaven and said, ‘Father, the hour has come; glorify thy Son’” — and then — “glorify thou me in thy own presence with the glory which I had with thee before the world was made” (Jn 17:1-5). Jesus asks for glory, a request which seems a paradox as his Passion is imminent. What glory is he referring to? In the Bible, glory refers to God’s self-revelation. It is the distinctive sign of his saving presence among mankind. Now, Jesus is the One who definitively manifests God’s presence and salvation. And he does this at Easter: lifted up on the Cross, he is glorified (cf. Jn 12:23-33). There, God finally reveals his glory: he removes the last veil and astonishes us as never before. Indeed, we discover that the Glory of God is entirely love: pure, unbridled and inconceivable love, beyond every limit and measure.

Brothers and sisters, let us make Jesus’ prayer our own: let us ask the Father to remove the veil from our eyes, so that in looking at the Crucifix over these days, we may understand that God is love. How often do we imagine him as master and not as Father; how often do we think of him as an austere judge rather than a merciful Saviour! But at Easter, God voids the distances, revealing himself in the humility of a love that seeks our love. Thus, we give him glory when we live whatever we do with love, when we do everything from our heart, as if for him (Col 3:17).

True glory is the glory of love because it is the only kind that gives life to the world. This glory is certainly the opposite of worldly glory, which comes from being admired, praised, acclaimed: when the ‘I’ is at the centre of attention. The Glory of God, on the other hand, is paradoxical: no applause, no audience. At the centre is not the ‘I’, but rather the other. Indeed, at Easter we see that the Father glorifies the Son as the Son glorifies the Father. No one glorifies him- or herself. We can ask ourselves today: “which glory do I live for? Mine or God’s? Do I wish only to receive from others or also to give to others?”.

[Pope Francis, General Audience 17 April 2019]

The misunderstandings echo

(Jn 16:29-33)

In John the Lord's statements always have a resonance of misunderstanding among the hearers.

After the announcement of Jesus 'ascent' to the Father, here it seems instead that the disciples - at least a little - understand him.

They will shortly betray him; but that doesn't mean not having intuited anything.

The post-Easter church experiences the dialectic of Faith: community clarifies it, deepens it over time, and step by step accepts it.

The Life of the Eternal is made present, becomes more aware. The Vision of Faith grasps and anticipates the future.

The apostles “understand” and “believe”, or at least begin to do so. But they are still so tied to external evidence. Hence the fatigue of the understanding journey, and the distrust of Christ [who knows us].

Ours is always a partial convincing, but abandonments, hesitations, betrayals, do not have the power to weaken the Son's relationship with the Father and his own intimates.

God cannot be overcome. He is the only support: far more reliable than our knowledge, certainty, faint confidence.

Misunderstanding is not an obstacle to the relationship of Faith, on the contrary, if brought to consciousness it allows the Gold to emerge; it arouses a burst, activates intimate acumen, a convinced involvement.

There the «Peace in Him» (v.33) arises - proper to her/him who is troubled. Shalôm that is neither quietism, nor truce.

The victory of life over the germs of death can only be understood in trials, in which what we are [in being and acting] emerges.

The stability of existing in the Spirit of Jesus does not rest on the lack of escapes, but on the authentic Foundation, only divine - hence multifaceted, life-wave-tolerant.

The text allows us to take measure of our misunderstandings, of our own rejections of the resounding appeals that Providence offers.

The many reminders immediately give the fruitful measure of the precarious condition, and hint that not even the eventual «Here I am» commensurate with a progression.

The conspicuous denials make it clear that the «Yes» is constantly in the germination phase.

Well, firm spiritual trust is not presumptuous, but incipient. Nor superficial. It is powerful in its powerlessness.

The verification of belief is not only the acceptance of the Cross - however improbable - but its silent and fruitful condition of Unexpected. Penetration of reality, which overcomes the world (v.33).

Jesus disillusioned the enthusiastic belief of his disciples: he knows that it heralds shameful escapes, or the most degrading stasis.

But in difficulties no one is alone. Every trial is an opportunity for reflection, full of profound energy and mysterious growth.

Faith is not epidermically perky certainty: if authentic, it is questioned step by step.

There is no moment in which problems are overcome.

And only with the Gift of the Spirit can it be accepted that the Father's Plan and the Son's Work be fulfilled in loss.

Velvets are illusory.

One only comes to know the Father of life, Heaven in us, by walking the road of an unceasing Liberation: for the raw and full understanding of the Most High, always a long way off lacks.

[Monday 7th wk. in Easter, June 2, 2025]

The echo of misunderstandings

(Jn 16:29-33)

In John, the Lord's statements always have a resonance of misunderstanding among the hearers.

After the announcement of Jesus' 'ascent' to the Father, here it seems instead that the disciples - at least a little - understand him.

They will soon betray him; but that is not to say that they have not guessed.

The post-Easter church experiences the dialectic of Faith: it clarifies it, deepens it over time, and step by step accepts it.

The Life of the Eternal becomes present, becomes more conscious. The Vision of Faith grasps and anticipates the future.

The apostles 'understand' and 'believe', or at least begin to do so. But they are still so tied to external evidence. Hence the fatigue of the journey of understanding, and the distrust of Christ [who knows us].

Ours is always a partial convincing, but abandonments, hesitations, betrayals, do not have the power to weaken the Son's relationship with the Father and his own.

God cannot be overcome. He is the only support: far more reliable than our knowledge, certainty, faint confidence.

Misunderstanding is not an obstacle to the relationship of Faith, on the contrary, if brought to consciousness it allows the Gold to emerge; it arouses a burst, activates the intimate acumen, a convinced involvement.

There arises the "Peace in Him" (v.33) - proper to him who is troubled.

Shalôm that is not quietism, nor respite; much less the result of letting go - because it is reflected [even in the anger that activates us].

The victory of life over the germs of death can only be understood in trials, in which what we are [in being and acting] emerges.

The stability of existing in the Spirit of Jesus does not rest on the lack of escapism, but on the authentic, only divine foundation - hence multifaceted, life-wave-tolerant.

The text allows us to take measure of our misunderstandings, of our own rejections of the resounding appeals that Providence makes.

The many reminders immediately give the fruitful measure of the precarious condition, and hint that even the eventual "Here I am" does not fit into a progression.

The conspicuous denials make it clear that the 'Yes' is constantly in its germinal phase.

In short, firm spiritual trust is not presumptuous, but incipient. Nor superficial. It is powerful in its impotence.

The verification of belief is not only the acceptance of the Cross - albeit improbable - but its silent and fruitful condition of the unexpected. Penetration of reality, which overcomes the world (v.33).

Jesus disillusioned the enthusiastic belief of his own: he knows that it heralds shameful escapes, or the most degrading stasis.

But in difficulties, no one is alone. Every trial is an opportunity for reflection, full of momentum and mysterious growth.

Faith is not bold certainty: if authentic, it is questioned step by step.

There is no moment in which problems are overcome.

And only with the Gift of the Spirit can one accept that the Father's Plan and the Son's Work be fulfilled in loss.

At the conclusion of a series of question-and-answer catecheses, John encourages his communities saddened by nerve-wracking waits not to fear the apparent power of the pact between official religion and empire, which seemed to ridicule the Faith of the little ones and put out of play the commitment of all brothers and sisters in Christ.

Even today, some 'disciples' think they have it all figured out and pose as doctors and allologists. But when in Jesus we feel correspondence and a light is manifested, it is good to know: the best is yet to be revealed.

Faith grows in the concrete experience of life and in the synergy with the Word of God that gradually illuminates its features.

Sometimes his Voice or events can be a cold shower that extinguishes flattery [which will prove fatal if carried out] and proud "childish" enthusiasm - deceptive.

Initially, believing in the Crucified One is perhaps linked to a spontaneous correspondence. But in time and in real discipleship, the life of Faith becomes better and better delineated, and extinguishes the false outbreaks of acerbic assent: when the presumption of self, of one's own ideas and strength, falls away.

For being in Christ is an engine that leads us, and gradually astounds us with unimaginable discoveries: treasures hidden behind dark sides. This re-creates the soul.

Some try to normalise our personalities and use us for themselves or their clan, but the Eternal One does not enter into any cultural patterns, indeed in time he disarms them all.

In vain is the common attempt of religions to transmit [dated or fashionable] obsessions peppered with hysterical fantasies and fake confidence to the simple.

The habitual devotees - the ones from parties and brackets - become disorientated as soon as they realise that God is not a protector of material blessings or conventional sacred idols.

The devious, deviant structures of sin are referred to in John as the "world" - meaning the seemingly happy union with power and gain: a trap of quietisms, concordisms and illusory velvet.One only comes to know the Father of life, Heaven within us, by walking the road of unceasing Liberation: for the raw and full understanding of the Most High is always a long way off.

Fatigue

“My hand shall ever abide with him, my arms also shall strengthen him” (Ps 89:21).

This is what the Lord means when he says: “I have found David, my servant; with my holy oil I have anointed him” (v. 20). It is also what our Father thinks whenever he “encounters” a priest. And he goes on to say: “My faithfulness and my steadfast love shall be with him… He shall cry to me, ‘You are my Father, my God and the rock of my salvation”’ (vv. 24, 26).

It is good to enter with the Psalmist into this monologue of our God. He is talking about us, his priests, his pastors. But it is not really a monologue, since he is not the only one speaking. The Father says to Jesus: “Your friends, those who love you, can say to me in a particular way: ‘You are my Father’” (cf. Jn 14:21). If the Lord is so concerned about helping us, it is because he knows that the task of anointing his faithful people is not easy, it is demanding; it can tire us. We experience this in so many ways: from the ordinary fatigue brought on by our daily apostolate to the weariness of sickness, death and even martyrdom.

The tiredness of priests! Do you know how often I think about this weariness which all of you experience? I think about it and I pray about it, often, especially when I am tired myself. I pray for you as you labour amid the people of God entrusted to your care, many of you in lonely and dangerous places. Our weariness, dear priests, is like incense which silently rises up to heaven (cf. Ps 141:2; Rev 8:3-4). Our weariness goes straight to the heart of the Father.

Know that the Blessed Virgin Mary is well aware of this tiredness and she brings it straight to the Lord. As our Mother, she knows when her children are weary, and this is her greatest concern. “Welcome! Rest, my child. We will speak afterwards…”. “Whenever we draw near to her, she says to us: “Am I not here with you, I who am your Mother?” (cf. Evangelii Gaudium, 286). And to her Son she will say, as she did at Cana, “They have no wine” (Jn 2:3).

It can also happen that, whenever we feel weighed down by pastoral work, we can be tempted to rest however we please, as if rest were not itself a gift of God. We must not fall into this temptation. Our weariness is precious in the eyes of Jesus who embraces us and lifts us up. “Come to me, all who labour and are overburdened, and I will give you rest” (Mt 11:28). Whenever a priest feels dead tired, yet is able to bow down in adoration and say: “Enough for today Lord”, and entrust himself to the Father, he knows that he will not fall but be renewed. The one who anoints God’s faithful people with oil is also himself anointed by the Lord: “He gives you a garland instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the mantle of praise instead of a faint spirit” (cf. Is 61:3).

Let us never forget that a key to fruitful priestly ministry lies in how we rest and in how we look at the way the Lord deals with our weariness. How difficult it is to learn how to rest! This says much about our trust and our ability to realize that that we too are sheep: we need the help of the Shepherd. A few questions can help us in this regard.

Do I know how to rest by accepting the love, gratitude and affection which I receive from God’s faithful people? Or, once my pastoral work is done, do I seek more refined relaxations, not those of the poor but those provided by a consumerist society? Is the Holy Spirit truly “rest in times of weariness” for me, or is he just someone who keeps me busy? Do I know how to seek help from a wise priest? Do I know how to take a break from myself, from the demands I make on myself, from my self-seeking and from my self-absorption? Do I know how to spend time with Jesus, with the Father, with the Virgin Mary and Saint Joseph, with my patron saints, and to find rest in their demands, which are easy and light, and in their pleasures, for they delight to be in my company, and in their concerns and standards, which have only to do with the greater glory of God? Do I know how to rest from my enemies under the Lord’s protection? Am I preoccupied with how I should speak and act, or do I entrust myself to the Holy Spirit, who will teach me what I need to say in every situation? Do I worry needlessly, or, like Paul, do I find repose by saying: “I know him in whom I have placed my trust” (2 Tim 1:12)?

Let us return for a moment to what today’s liturgy describes as the work of the priest: to bring good news to the poor, to proclaim freedom to prisoners and healing to the blind, to offer liberation to the downtrodden and to announce the year of the Lord’s favour. Isaiah also mentions consoling the broken-hearted and comforting the afflicted.

These are not easy or purely mechanical jobs, like running an office, building a parish hall or laying out a soccer field for the young of the parish… The tasks of which Jesus speaks call for the ability to show compassion; our hearts are to be “moved” and fully engaged in carrying them out. We are to rejoice with couples who marry; we are to laugh with the children brought to the baptismal font; we are to accompany young fiancés and families; we are to suffer with those who receive the anointing of the sick in their hospital beds; we are to mourn with those burying a loved one… All these emotions…if we do not have an open heart, can exhaust the heart of a shepherd. For us priests, what happens in the lives of our people is not like a news bulletin: we know our people, we sense what is going on in their hearts. Our own heart, sharing in their suffering, feels “com-passion”, is exhausted, broken into a thousand pieces, moved and even “consumed” by the people. Take this, eat this… These are the words the priest of Jesus whispers repeatedly while caring for his faithful people: Take this, eat this; take this, drink this… In this way our priestly life is given over in service, in closeness to the People of God… and this always leaves us weary.

I wish to share with you some forms of weariness on which I have meditated.

There is what we can call “the weariness of people, the weariness of the crowd”. For the Lord, and for us, this can be exhausting – so the Gospel tells us – yet it is a good weariness, a fruitful and joyful exhaustion. The people who followed Jesus, the families which brought their children to him to be blessed, those who had been cured, those who came with their friends, the young people who were so excited about the Master… they did not even leave him time to eat. But the Lord never tired of being with people. On the contrary, he seemed renewed by their presence (cf. Evangelii Gaudium, 11). This weariness in the midst of activity is a grace on which all priests can draw (cf. ibid., 279). And how beautiful it is! People love their priests, they want and need their shepherds! The faithful never leave us without something to do, unless we hide in our offices or go out in our cars wearing sun glasses. There is a good and healthy tiredness. It is the exhaustion of the priest who wears the smell of the sheep… but also smiles the smile of a father rejoicing in his children or grandchildren. It has nothing to do with those who wear expensive cologne and who look at others from afar and from above (cf. ibid., 97). We are the friends of the Bridegroom: this is our joy. If Jesus is shepherding the flock in our midst, we cannot be shepherds who are glum, plaintive or, even worse, bored. The smell of the sheep and the smile of a father…. Weary, yes, but with the joy of those who hear the Lord saying: “Come, O blessed of my Father” (Mt 25:34).

There is also the kind of weariness which we can call “the weariness of enemies”. The devil and his minions never sleep and, since their ears cannot bear to hear the word of God, they work tirelessly to silence that word and to distort it. Confronting them is more wearying. It involves not only doing good, with all the exertion this entails, but also defending the flock and oneself from evil (cf. Evangelii Gaudium, 83). The evil one is far more astute than we are, and he is able to demolish in a moment what it took us years of patience to build up. Here we need to implore the grace to learn how to “offset” (and it is an important habit to acquire): to thwart evil without pulling up the good wheat, or presuming to protect like supermen what the Lord alone can protect. All this helps us not to let our guard down before the depths of iniquity, before the mockery of the wicked. In these situations of weariness, the Lord says to us: “Have courage! I have overcome the world!” (Jn 16:33). The word of God gives us strength.

And finally – I say finally lest you be too wearied by this homily itself! – there is also “weariness of ourselves” (cf. Evangelii Gaudium, 277). This may be the most dangerous weariness of all. That is because the other two kinds come from being exposed, from going out of ourselves to anoint and to do battle (for our job is to care for others). But this third kind of weariness is more “self-referential”: it is dissatisfaction with oneself, but not the dissatisfaction of someone who directly confronts himself and serenely acknowledges his sinfulness and his need for God’s mercy, his help; such people ask for help and then move forward. Here we are speaking of a weariness associated with “wanting yet not wanting”, having given up everything but continuing to yearn for the fleshpots of Egypt, toying with the illusion of being something different. I like to call this kind of weariness “flirting with spiritual worldliness”. When we are alone, we realize how many areas of our life are steeped in this worldliness, so much so that we may feel that it can never be completely washed away. This can be a dangerous kind of weariness. The Book of Revelation shows us the reason for this weariness: “You have borne up for my sake and you have not grown weary. But I have this against you, that you have abandoned the love you had at first” (Rev 2:3-4). Only love gives true rest. What is not loved becomes tiresome, and in time, brings about a harmful weariness.

The most profound and mysterious image of how the Lord deals with our pastoral tiredness is that, “having loved his own, he loved them to the end” (Jn 13:1): the scene of his washing the feet of his disciples. I like to think of this as the cleansing of discipleship. The Lord purifies the path of discipleship itself. He “gets involved” with us (Evangelii Gaudium, 24), becomes personally responsible for removing every stain, all that grimy, worldly smog which clings to us from the journey we make in his name.

From our feet, we can tell how the rest of our body is doing. The way we follow the Lord reveals how our heart is faring. The wounds on our feet, our sprains and our weariness, are signs of how we have followed him, of the paths we have taken in seeking the lost sheep and in leading the flock to green pastures and still waters (cf. ibid., 270). The Lord washes us and cleanses us of all the dirt our feet have accumulated in following him. This is something holy. Do not let your feet remain dirty. Like battle wounds, the Lord kisses them and washes away the grime of our labours.

Our discipleship itself is cleansed by Jesus, so that we can rightly feel “joyful”, “fulfilled”, “free of fear and guilt”, and impelled to go out “even to the ends of the earth, to every periphery”. In this way we can bring the good news to the most abandoned, knowing that “he is with us always, even to the end of the world”. And please, let us ask for the grace to learn how to be weary, but weary in the best of ways!

[Pope Francis, Chrism homily 2 April 2015]

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

Once more in meditation, prayer and song, we have recalled Jesus’s journey along the way of the cross: a journey seemingly hopeless, yet one that changed human life and history, and opened the way to “new heavens and a new earth” (cf. Rev 21:1). Especially today, Good Friday, the Church commemorates with deep spiritual union the death of the Son of God on the cross; in his cross she sees the tree of life, which blossoms in new hope.

The experience of suffering and of the cross touches all mankind; it touches the family too. How often does the journey become wearisome and difficult! Misunderstandings, conflicts, worry for the future of our children, sickness and problems of every kind. These days too, the situation of many families is made worse by the threat of unemployment and other negative effects of the economic crisis. The Way of the Cross which we have spiritually retraced this evening invites all of us, and families in particular, to contemplate Christ crucified in order to have the force to overcome difficulties. The cross of Christ is the supreme sign of God’s love for every man and woman, the superabundant response to every person’s need for love. At times of trouble, when our families have to face pain and adversity, let us look to Christ’s cross. There we can find the courage and strength to press on; there we can repeat with firm hope the words of Saint Paul: “Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? … No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us” (Rom 8:35,37).

In times of trial and tribulation, we are not alone; the family is not alone. Jesus is present with his love, he sustains them by his grace and grants the strength needed to carry on, to make sacrifices and to evercome every obstacle. And it is to this love of Christ that we must turn when human turmoil and difficulties threaten the unity of our lives and our families. The mystery of Christ’s suffering, death and resurrection inspires us to go on in hope: times of trouble and testing, when endured with Christ, with faith in him, already contain the light of the resurrection, the new life of a world reborn, the passover of all those who believe in his word.

In that crucified Man who is the Son of God, even death itself takes on new meaning and purpose: it is redeemed and overcome, it becomes a passage to new life. “Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it produces much fruit” (Jn 12:24). Let us entrust ourselves to the Mother of Christ. May Mary, who accompanied her Son along his way of sorrows, who stood beneath the cross at the hour of his death, and who inspired the Church at its birth to live in God’s presence, lead our hearts and the hearts of every family through the vast mysterium passionis towards the mysterium paschale, towards that light which breaks forth from Christ’s resurrection and reveals the definitive victory of love, joy and life over evil, suffering and death. Amen.

[Pope Benedict, Way of the Cross at the Colosseum 6 April 2012]

13. The great challenge of our time for believers and for all people of good will is that of maintaining truthful and free communication which will help consolidate integral progress in the world. Everyone should know how to foster an attentive discernment and constant vigilance, developing a healthy critical capacity regarding the persuasive force of the communications media.

Also in this field, believers in Christ know that they can count upon the help of the Holy Spirit. Such help is all the more necessary when one considers how greatly the obstacles intrinsic to communication can be increased by ideologies, by the desire for profit or for power, and by rivalries and conflicts between individuals and groups, and also because of human weakness and social troubles. The modern technologies increase to a remarkable extent the speed, quantity and accessibility of communication, but they above all do not favor that delicate exchange which takes place between mind and mind, between heart and heart, and which should characterize any communication at the service of solidarity and love.

Throughout the history of salvation, Christ presents himself to us as the “communicator” of the Father: “God, in these last days, has spoken to us through his Son” (Heb 1:2). The eternal Word made flesh, in communicating Himself, always shows respect for those who listen, teaches understanding of their situation and needs, is moved to compassion for their suffering and to a resolute determination to say to them only what they need to hear without imposition or compromise, deceit or manipulation. Jesus teaches that communication is a moral act, “A good person brings forth good out of a store of goodness, but an evil person brings forth evil out of a store of evil. I tell you, on the Day of Judgment people will render an account for every careless word they speak. By your words you will be acquitted, and by your words you will be condemned.” (Mt 12: 35-37)

14. The apostle Paul has a clear message for those engaged in communications (politicians, professional communicators, spectators), “Therefore, putting away falsehood, speak the truth, each one to his neighbor, for we are members one of another… No foul language should come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for needed edification, that it may impart grace to those who hear” (Eph 4: 25, 29).

To those working in communication, especially to believers involved in this important field of society, I extend the invitation which, from the beginning of my ministry as Pastor of the Universal Church, I have wished to express to the entire world “Do not be afraid!”

Do not be afraid of new technologies! These rank “among the marvelous things” – inter mirifica – which God has placed at our disposal to discover, to use and to make known the truth, also the truth about our dignity and about our destiny as his children, heirs of his eternal Kingdom.

Do not be afraid of being opposed by the world! Jesus has assured us, “I have conquered the world!” (Jn 16:33)

Do not be afraid even of your own weakness and inadequacy! The Divine Master has said, “I am with you always, until the end of the world” (Mt 28:20). Communicate the message of Christ’s hope, grace and love, keeping always alive, in this passing world, the eternal perspective of heaven, a perspective which no communications medium can ever directly communicate, “What eye has not seen, and ear has not heard, and what has not entered the human heart, what God has prepared for those who love him” (1Cor 2:9).

To Mary, who gave us the Word of life, and who kept his unchanging words in her heart, do I entrust the journey of the Church in today’s world. May the Blessed Virgin help us to communicate by every means the beauty and joy of life in Christ our Savior.

[Pope John Paul II, Apostolic Letter to those responsible for social communications, 24 January 2005]