In today’s Gospel the Evangelist Luke writes about Jesus who, on the way to Jerusalem, enters a village and is welcomed into the home of two sisters: Martha and Mary (cf. Lk 10:38-42). Both welcome the Lord, but they do so in different ways. Mary sits at Jesus’ feet and listens to his words (cf. v. 39), whereas Martha is completely caught up in preparing things; at a certain point she says to Jesus: “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me” (v. 40). Jesus responds to her: “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things; one thing is needful. Mary has chosen the good portion, which shall not be taken away from her” (vv. 41-42). 

In bustling about and busying herself, Martha risks forgetting — and this is the problem — the most important thing, which is the presence of the guest, Jesus in this case. She forgets about the presence of the guest. A guest is not merely to be served, fed, looked after in every way. Most importantly he ought to be listened to. Remember this word: Listen! A guest should be welcomed as a person, with a story, his heart rich with feelings and thoughts, so that he may truly feel like he is among family. If you welcome a guest into your home but continue doing other things, letting him just sit there, both of you in silence, it is as if he were of stone: a guest of stone. No. A guest is to be listened to. Of course, Jesus’ response to Martha — when he tells her that there is only one thing that needs to be done — finds its full significance in reference to listening to the very word of Jesus, that word which illuminates and supports all that we are and what we do. If we go to pray, for example, before the Crucifix, and we talk, talk, talk, and then we leave, we do not listen to Jesus. We do not allow him to speak to our heart. Listen: this is the key word. Do not forget! And we must not forget that in the house of Martha and Mary, Jesus, before being Lord and Master, is a pilgrim and guest. Thus, his response has this significance first and foremost: “Martha, Martha why do you busy yourself doing so much for this guest even to the point of forgetting about his presence? — A guest of stone! — Not much is necessary to welcome him; indeed, only one thing is needed: listen to him — this is the word: listen to him — be brotherly to him, let him realize he is among family and not in a temporary shelter. 

Understood in this light, hospitality, which is one of the works of mercy, is revealed as a truly human and Christian virtue, a virtue which in today’s world is at risk of being overlooked. In fact, nursing homes and hospices are multiplying, but true hospitality is not always practised in these environments. Various institutions are opened to care for many types of disease, of loneliness, of marginalization, but opportunities are decreasing for those who are foreign, marginalized, excluded, from finding someone ready to listen to them: because they are foreigners, refugees, migrants. Listen to that painful story. Even in one’s own home, among one’s own family members, it might be easier to find services and care of various kinds rather than listening and welcome. Today we are so taken, by excitement, by countless problems — some of which are not important — that we lack the capacity to listen. We are constantly busy and thus we have no time to listen. I would like to ask you, to pose a question to you, each one answer in your own heart: do you, husband, take time to listen to your wife? And do you, woman, take time to listen to your husband? Do you, parents, take time, time to “waste”, to listen to your children? or your grandparents, the elderly? — “But grandparents always say the same things, they are boring...” — But they need to be listened to! Listen. I ask that you learn to listen and to devote more of your time. The root of peace lies in the capacity to listen.

May the Virgin Mary, Mother of listening and of service and of attentive care, teach us to be welcoming and hospitable to our brothers and our sisters.

[Pope Francis, Angelus, 17 July 2016]

For a lightness without masks

(Mt 12:14-21)

The authorities condemn Jesus to death. The insignificant people await him, as their only hope.

They feel that there is still much to find, and that only He can inspire their action, thus opening them to Rebirth.

Persons sense harmony with the young Master who has chosen their social class, that of the shaky, considered wrong and disconcerting.

The hard and stifled existence of the little ones has taught them to be always ready for surprises, for new actions; even for destabilizing crises:

Best way to stay hooked to life and to the very possibility of achieving it, by activating it from the Hiding.

In the clamor and social approval, which denies the problems, their Mission would remain distorted.

While the externality of the leaders does not give in to dedication, to breaking themselves - even from their innermost.

So it doesn’t become new consciousness.

Sick of grandeur and longing for tranquillity, the ancient political and religious leaders project into the idea of the Messiah their being double, corrupt and artificial, only showy.

Unable to cope with everyday life - and make themselves available.

They do not understand the discreet Power of the Lord, his wise energy [and modest style] with lasting advantages.

They are willing to stun the despondent people, and they gladly do so with models, comparisons, evaluations, empty formulas, and incitements overflowing with reserves.

But they remain at a safe distance as far as living together, sharing, and cheering up others’ lives.

They continue to pass judgement but without giving anything, let alone offering themselves – and converting to the poor, except to manipulate them.

Their aversion to Christ - who came for the redemption of the «multitudes» [vv.15.18.21] - clashed precisely with the incessant need of the persons.

People know their own (all real) mud fabric, and they want emancipation.

Without subterfuge, they present themselves unmasks.

Today, as then, the Silence of the Lord's Anointed One [unmanipulated] is re-proposed in His authentic witnesses - overcoming the temptation of spectacle.

By surpassing the craze for the extraordinary; for propaganda and advertising aimed at proselytism and personal self-interest.

God knows that Shadow side is prophecy and the future germ: best part of His People, and of us.

To internalize and live the message:

Are there ambiguous individuals inclined to value normalised interventions, who consider your Mission distorted by Silence?

Do you think your realization is stifled by the Hiding? Or vice versa activated?

[Saturday 15th wk. in O.T.  July 19, 2025]

For lightness without masks

(Mt 12:14-21)

"He will not quarrel or scold, nor will anyone hear his voice in the squares. A cracked reed he will not break and a smoking lamp he will not extinguish, until he has brought judgment to victory. And in his name shall the nations hope" (Mt 12:19-20).

The authorities condemn Jesus to death because He dared to expose the malignity of their mercenary expedients (an art in which they are masters).

Instead of becoming educators, the leaders of official religiosity remain the protagonists of a pyramidal, oppressive structure.

The ostracised and rejected, on the other hand, alienated and outcast from society and from the circle of the 'greats', present themselves to the Lord without masks, with many insecurities and ailments.

They realise that the humanising and divine being remains exactly opposite to that of those who represent them. According to what the people hoped for in their hearts, without subterfuge; at their disposal.

Not an all-powerful master, who would make the path of the elect more comfortable and prestigious.

On the contrary, because there are many daily and inner problems that deserve greater Presence.

The 'best' of the world (even the pious) mock the Father's Face. The little people wait for Him, await Him as their only hope.

They sense that there is still much to be found, and that only He can inspire their actions, thus opening them to Rebirth.

They feel in tune with the young Master who has chosen their social class, that of the unfortunate, considered wrong and disconcerting, but who every day brings up the same problem of God in a forthright manner.

Feeling like a person and letting oneself be set free is the motif of the whole sacred story: the fruit of Exodus that breaks bounded bonds.

It shatters them, because it even favours the itinerant coming and going of the inexperienced person who seeks and allows himself to be questioned - the opposite of the false 'staying put'.

That which is not made of affective tonality and deep emotional weight, yet constantly asks to be taken in charge and in consciousness.

The hard and stifled life of the Little Ones has taught them to always be ready for surprises, for new actions; even for destabilising crises.

This is the best way to stay hooked on life and the very possibility of realising it, activating it from the hiding place.

In the clamour and social approval, which denies the problems, their Mission would remain distorted.

While the outwardness of the leaders does not yield to dedication, to breaking - even from within.

Thus it does not become a new consciousness.

Sick of grandeur and craving for tranquillity, the ancient political and religious leaders project into the idea of the Messiah their own double, corrupt and contrived being, only conspicuous.

Unable to measure themselves against the summary.

They do not understand the discreet power of the Lord, his wise energy (and dim style), with lasting benefits.

They are willing to stun disheartened people, and they do so gladly with models, comparisons, budgets, empty formulas, and overflowing incitements.

But they remain at a safe distance when it comes to living together, sharing, and cheering up.

They continue to judge, but without giving anything, let alone giving themselves - and converting to the poor, without manipulating them.

Their aversion to Christ - who came for the redemption of the 'multitudes' (vv.15.18.21) - clashes precisely with the people's incessant need.

The people know their own fabric of all-too-real mud, and they long for emancipation.

Today, as then, the Silence of the Lord's true Anointed [who re-proposes himself in his authentic witnesses] overcomes the temptation of the spectacular.

It overcomes the mania of the extraordinary; of that which is propaganda and publicity for the sake of proselytism and currency.

We too preserve the characteristics of the Master's Work, whose universally beneficial Action we continue.

We wish to correspond, in the discretion and small simplicity of an unknown, but forward-looking life.

God knows that the Shadow side is sometimes the best part of His people, and of us.

To internalise and live the message:

Are there ambiguous people inclined to value normalised - i.e. prodigious - interventions who consider your Mission distorted by Silence?

Do you yourself feel that your realisation is stifled by the Silence? Or vice versa activated?

At this point, I would also like to thank most heartily all those people throughout the world who in these recent weeks have sent me moving expressions of concern, friendship and prayer. Yes, the Pope is never alone; now I once again experience this so overwhelmingly that my heart is touched. The Pope belongs to everyone and so many persons feel very close to him. It is true that I receive letters from world leaders – from heads of state, from religious leaders, from representatives of the world of culture, and so on. But I also receive many many letters from ordinary people who write to me simply and from the heart, and who show me their affection, an affection born of our being together with Christ Jesus, in the Church. These people do not write to me in the way one writes, for example, to a prince or some important person whom they do not know. They write to me as brothers and sisters, as sons and daughters, with a sense of a very affectionate family bond. Here one can sense palpably what the Church is – not an organization, an association for religious or humanitarian ends, but a living body, a communion of brothers and sisters in the Body of Christ, which makes us all one. To experience the Church in this way and to be able as it were to put one’s finger on the strength of her truth and her love, is a cause for joy at a time when so many people are speaking of her decline. But we see how the Church is alive today! […]

I also thank each and every one of you for the respect and understanding with which you have accepted this important decision. I will continue to accompany the Church’s journey with prayer and reflection, with that devotion to the Lord and his Bride which I have hitherto sought to practise daily and which I would like to practise always.

[Pope Benedict, General Audience 27 February 2013]

He is Son, and he has made himself 'servant'!

Today's liturgy speaks explicitly of this in the words of the book of Isaiah: "Behold my servant whom I uphold, / my chosen one in whom I am well pleased, / I have set my spirit upon him; / he shall bring forth the right to the nations" (Is 42:1).

Jesus Christ: Son who became a servant. The Baptism in the Jordan fully reconfirms this: Jesus presents himself to John to be baptised; but the latter tries to prevent him by saying: "I need to be baptised by you and you come to me?" (Mt 3:14).

As if he wanted to say: "You who are the bearer of saving Grace and Lord of our salvation". Jesus, however, replies: "Let it be for now, for thus we fulfil all righteousness" (Mt 3:15).

Jesus receives Baptism from John: the Baptism of Penance. In this way he manifests himself as the servant of our redemption. He comes as the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world (cf. Jn 1:29, 36). He bears within himself the will of obedience to the Father even unto death.

He comes as the one who "will not break a cracked reed, / will not quench a wick with a dull flame" (Is 42:3).

[Pope John Paul II, Angelus 13 January 1985]

When we allow the convenience of habit and the dictatorship of prejudice to have the upper hand, it is difficult to open ourselves to what is new and allow ourselves to be amazed. We control: through attitudes, through prejudices… It often happens in life that we seek from our experiences and even from people only what conforms to our own ideas and ways of thinking so as never to have to make an effort to change. And this can even happen with God, and even to us believers, to us who think we know Jesus, that we already know so much about Him and that it is enough to repeat the same things as always. And this is not enough with God. But without openness to what is new and, above all – listen well – openness to God’s surprises, without amazement, faith becomes a tiring litany that slowly dies out and becomes a habit, a social habit.

I said a word: amazement. What is amazement? Amazement happens when we meet God: “I met the Lord”. But we read in the Gospel: many times the people who encountered Jesus and recognised him felt amazed. And we, by encountering God, must follow this path: to feel amazement. It is like the guarantee certificate that the encounter is true and not habitual.

In the end, why didn’t Jesus’s fellow villagers recognise and believe in Him? But why? What is the reason? In a few words, we can say that they did not accept the scandal of the Incarnation. They did not know this mystery of the Incarnation, but they did not accept the mystery: they did not know it. They did not know the reason and they thought it was scandalous that the immensity of God should be revealed in the smallness of our flesh, that the Son of God should be the son of a carpenter, that the divine should be hidden in the human, that God should inhabit a face, the words, the gestures of a simple man. This is the scandal: the incarnation of God, his concreteness, his ‘daily life’. And God became concrete in a man, Jesus of Nazareth, he became a companion on the way, he made himself one of us. “You are one of us”, we can say to Jesus. What a beautiful prayer! It is because one of us understands us, accompanies us, forgives us, loves us so much. In reality, an abstract, distant god is more comfortable, one that doesn’t get himself involved in situations and who accepts a faith that is far from life, from problems, from society. Or we would even like to believe in a ‘special effects’ god who does only exceptional things and always provokes strong emotions.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 4 July 2021]

15th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year C) [13 July 2025]

May God bless us and the Virgin Mary protect us. Let us live this summer accompanied and guided by the Word of God.

*First Reading from the Book of Deuteronomy (30:10-14)

 The Book of Deuteronomy contains Moses' last speech, a sort of spiritual testament, although it was certainly not written by Moses, since it often repeats: 'Moses said... Moses did'. The author is very solemn in recalling Moses' greatest contribution: bringing Israel out of Egypt and concluding the Covenant with God on Sinai. In this Covenant, God promises to protect his people forever, and the people promise to respect his Law, recognising it as the best guarantee of their newfound freedom. Israel makes this commitment, but it does not often prove faithful. When the Northern Kingdom, destroyed by the Assyrians, disappears from the map, the author invites the inhabitants of the Southern Kingdom, learning from this defeat, to listen to the voice of the Lord, to observe his commands and decrees written in the Torah. For they are neither difficult to understand nor to put into practice: "This commandment which I command you today is not too high for you, nor is it too far away from you" (v. 11).

A question arises: if observing the Law is not difficult, why are God's commandments not put into practice? For Moses, the reason lies in the fact that Israel is "a stiff-necked people": it provoked the Lord's anger in the desert and then rebelled against the Lord from the day it left Egypt until its arrival in the Promised Land (cf. Deut 9:6-7). The expression "stiff-necked" evokes an animal that refuses to bend its neck under the yoke, and the Covenant between God and his people was compared to a ploughing yoke. To recommend obedience to the Law, Ben Sira writes: "Put your neck under the yoke and receive instruction" (Sir 51:26). Jeremiah rebukes Israel for its infidelities to the Law: "For long you have broken my yoke and torn off my bonds" (Jer 2:20; 5:5). And Jesus: "Take my yoke upon you and learn from me... Yes, my yoke is easy and my burden light" (Mt 11:29-30). This phrase finds its roots right here in our text from Deuteronomy: "This commandment which I command you today is not too high for you, nor is it too far away from you" (v. 11). Both in Deuteronomy and in the Gospel, the positive message of the Bible emerges: the divine law is within our reach and evil is not irremediable, so that if humanity walks towards salvation, which consists in loving God and neighbour, it experiences happiness. Yet experience shows that living a life in accordance with God's plan is impossible for human beings when they rely solely on their own strength. But if this is impossible for men, everything is possible for God (cf. Mt 19:26) who, as we read in this text, transforms our 'stiff neck' and changes our heart: he 'will circumcise your heart and the heart of your descendants, so that you may love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul, and live' (Dt 30:6).. Circumcision of the heart means the adherence of our whole being to God's will, which is possible, as the prophets, especially Jeremiah and Ezekiel, note, only through God's direct intervention: "I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts. I will be their God, and they shall be my people" (Jer 31:33).

*Responsorial Psalm 18/19

Obedience to the Law is a path to the true Promised Land, and this psalm seems like a litany in honour of the Law: "the law of the Lord", "the precepts of the Lord", "the commandment of the Lord", "the judgments of the Lord". The Lord chose his people, freed them and offered them his Covenant to accompany them throughout their existence, educating them through observance of the Torah. We must not forget that, before anything else, the Jewish people experienced being freed by their God. The Law and the commandments are therefore placed in the perspective of the exodus from Egypt: they are an undertaking of liberation from all the chains that prevent man from being happy, and it is an eternal Covenant. The book of Deuteronomy insists on this point: 'Hear, O Israel, and keep and do them, for then you will find happiness' (Deut 6:3). And our psalm echoes this: 'The precepts of the Lord are upright, they are joy to the heart'. The great certainty acquired by the men of the Bible is that God wants man to be happy and offers him a very simple means to achieve this, for it is enough to listen to his Word written in the Law: "The commandment of the Lord is clear, it enlightens the eyes." The path is marked out, the commandments are like road signs indicating possible dangers, and the Law is our teacher: after all, the root of the word Torah in Hebrew means first and foremost to teach. There is no other requirement and there is no other way to be happy: "The judgments of the Lord are all just, more precious than gold, sweeter than honey." If for us, as for the psalmist, gold is a metal that is both incorruptible and precious, and therefore desirable, honey does not evoke for us what it represented for an inhabitant of Palestine. When God calls Moses and entrusts him with the mission of freeing his people, he promises him: 'I will bring you out of the misery of Egypt... to a land flowing with milk and honey' (Ex 3:17). This very ancient expression characterises abundance and sweetness. Honey, of course, is also found elsewhere, even in the desert where John the Baptist fed on locusts and wild honey (cf. Mt 3:4), but it remains a rarity, and this is precisely what makes the Promised Land so wonderful, where the presence of honey indicates the sweetness of God's action, who took the initiative to save his people, simply out of love. For this reason, from now on there will be no more talk of the onions of Egypt, but of the honey of Canaan, and Israel is certain that God will save it because, as the psalm begins, 'the law of the Lord is perfect, refreshing the soul; the testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise the simple'.

*Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Colossians (1:15-20)

I will begin by paraphrasing the last sentence, which is perhaps the most difficult for us: God has decided to reconcile everything to himself through Christ, making peace for all beings on earth and in heaven through the blood of his cross (vv. 19-20). Paul here compares Christ's death to a sacrifice such as those that were habitually offered in the temple in Jerusalem. In particular, there were sacrifices called 'sacrifices of communion' or 'sacrifices of peace'. Paul knows well that those who condemned Jesus certainly did not intend to offer a sacrifice, both because human sacrifices no longer existed in Israel and because Jesus was condemned to death as a criminal and was executed outside the city of Jerusalem. Paul contemplates something unheard of here: in his grace, God has transformed the horrible passion inflicted on his Son by men into a work of peace. In other words, the human hatred that kills Christ, in a mysterious reversal wrought by divine grace, becomes an instrument of reconciliation and pacification because we finally know God as he is: God is pure love and forgiveness.  This discovery can transform our hearts of stone into hearts of flesh (cf. Ezekiel), if we allow his Spirit to act in us. In this letter to the Colossians, we find the same meditation that we find in John's Gospel, inspired by the words of the prophet Zechariah: "I will pour out on the house of David and on the inhabitants of Jerusalem a spirit of grace and supplication. They will look on me, the one they have pierced... they will mourn for him bitterly' (Zechariah 12:10). When we contemplate the cross, our conversion and reconciliation can arise from this contemplation. In Christ on the cross, we contemplate man as God wanted him to be, and we discover in the pierced Jesus the righteous man par excellence, the perfect image of God. This is why Paul speaks of fullness, in the sense of fulfilment: "It pleased God to have all his fullness dwell in him". Let us now return to the beginning of the text: "Christ Jesus is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation, for in him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, the visible and the invisible... All things were created through him and for him." In Jesus we contemplate God himself; in Jesus Christ, God allows himself to be seen or, to put it another way, Jesus is the visibility of the Father: "Whoever has seen me has seen the Father," he himself says in the Gospel of John (Jn 14:9). Contemplating Christ, we contemplate man; contemplating Christ, we contemplate God. There remains one more fundamental verse: "He is also the head of the body, the Church. He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that he might come to have firstness in everything" (v. 18). This is perhaps the text of the New Testament where it is stated most clearly that we are the Body of Christ, that is, he is the head of a great body of which we are the members. If elsewhere he had already said that we are all members of one body (Rom 12:4-5) and (1 Cor 12:12), here he makes it clear: "Christ is the head of the body, which is the Church" (as also in Eph 1:22; 4:15; 5:23), and it is up to us to ensure that this Body grows harmoniously. 

*From the Gospel according to Luke (10:25-37)

A doctor of the Law asks Jesus two challenging questions: "Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?" and, even more challenging, "Who is my neighbour?" The answer he receives is demanding. Starting from his questions, Jesus leads him to the very heart of God and places this journey in a concrete context familiar to his listeners: the thirty-kilometre road between Jerusalem and Jericho, a road in the middle of the desert, which at the time was indeed a place of ambushes, so that the story of the assault and the care of the wounded man sounded extremely plausible. A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho and fell into the hands of robbers, who robbed him and left him half dead. Added to his physical and moral misfortune is religious exclusion because, having been touched by 'unclean' people, he himself becomes unclean. This is the reason for the apparent indifference, indeed repulsion, of the priest and the Levite, who are concerned with preserving their ritual integrity. A Samaritan, on the other hand, has no such scruples. This scene on the side of the road expresses in images what Jesus himself did so many times when he healed even on the Sabbath, when he bent down to lepers, when he welcomed sinners, quoting the prophet Hosea several times: 'I desire mercy, not sacrifice, knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings' (Hos 6:6). Jesus responds to the first question of the doctor of the Law as the rabbis would, with a question: "What is written in the Law? How do you read it?" And the interlocutor recites enthusiastically: "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and your neighbour as yourself." "You have answered correctly," Jesus replies, because the only thing that matters for Israel is fidelity to this twofold love. The secret of this knowledge, which the entire Bible reveals to us, is that God is "merciful" (literally in Hebrew: "his bowels tremble"). It is no coincidence that Luke uses the same expression to describe Jesus' emotion at the sight of the widow of Nain carrying her only son to the cemetery (Luke 7) or to recount the Father's emotion at the return of the prodigal son (Luke 15). Even the good Samaritan, when he saw the wounded man, "had compassion on him" (he was moved in his bowels). Even though he is merciful to the Jews, he remains only a Samaritan, that is, one of the least respectable, since Jews and Samaritans were enemies: the Jews despised the Samaritans because they were heretics (an ancient contempt: in the book of Sirach, among the detestable peoples, "the foolish people who dwell in Shechem" are mentioned (Sir 50:26)), while the Samaritans did not forgive the Jews for destroying their sanctuary on Mount Gerizim (in 129 BC). Yet this despised man is declared by Jesus to be closer to God than the dignitaries and servants of the Temple, who passed by without stopping. The "compassion in the bowels" of the Samaritan — an unbeliever in the eyes of the Jews — becomes "the image of God," and Jesus proposes a reversal of perspective. When asked, "Who is my neighbour?", he does not respond with a "definition" of neighbour (the Latin word "finis," meaning "limit," is also found in the word "definition"), but makes it a matter of the heart. Pay attention to the vocabulary: the word 'neighbour' implies that there are also those who are far away. And so, to the question, 'Who then is my neighbour?', the Lord replies, 'It is up to you to decide how far you want to go to be a neighbour'. And he offers the Samaritan as an example simply because he is capable of compassion. Jesus concludes, 'Go and do likewise'. This is not mere advice. He had already said to the doctor of the Law: "Do this and you will live," and now Luke highlights the need for consistency between words and deeds: it is fine to talk like a book (as in the case of the doctor of the Law), but it is not enough, because Jesus said: "My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and put it into practice" (Lk 8:21). Ultimately, Jesus challenges us to a love without boundaries!

NOTE The question "What is the greatest commandment?" also appears in the Gospels of Matthew and Mark, while the parable of the Good Samaritan is unique to Luke. It is also interesting to note that this positive presentation of a Samaritan (Lk 10) immediately follows the refusal of a Samaritan village to welcome Jesus and his disciples on their way to Jerusalem (Lk 9). Jesus rejects all generalisations, and this parable ultimately highlights a question of priorities in our lives.

+Giovanni D'Ercole

14th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year C)  [6 July 2025]

May God bless us and the Virgin Mary protect us! Even though we are entering the holiday season, I will continue to provide you with comments on the Sunday Bible readings.

*First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah (66:10-14)

When a prophet speaks so much of consolation, it means that things are going very badly, so he feels the need to console and keep hope alive: this text was therefore written at a difficult time. The author, Third Isaiah, is one of the distant disciples of the great Isaiah and is preaching to the exiles who returned from Babylonian exile around 535 BC. Their long-awaited return proved disappointing in every respect because after 50 years everything had changed. Jerusalem bore the scars of the catastrophe of 587 when it was destroyed by Nebuchadnezzar; the Temple was in ruins, as was much of the city, and the exiles had not received the triumphant welcome they had hoped for.  The prophet speaks of mourning and consolation, but in the face of the prevailing discouragement, he is not content with words of comfort, but even dares to make an almost triumphal speech: "Rejoice with Jerusalem, all you who love her. Rejoice with her, all you who mourn for her" (v. 10). Where does this optimism come from? The answer is simple: from faith, or rather from the experience of Israel, which continues to hope in every age because it is certain that God is always present and, even when all seems lost, knows that nothing is impossible for God. Even in times of great discouragement during the Exodus, it was proclaimed: "Has the Lord's arm been shortened?  (Num 11:23), an image that recurs several times in the book of Isaiah. During the exile, when hope was wavering, Second Isaiah communicated on behalf of God: "Is my hand too short to deliver?" (Isaiah 50:2) And after the return, in a period of great concern, the Third Isaiah, whom we read today, takes up the same image twice, both in chapter 59:1 and in the last verse of today's reading: "The hand of the Lord will be made known to his servants" (v. 14). God, who has delivered his people so many times in the past, will never abandon them. Even on its own, the term 'hand' is an allusion to the exodus from Egypt, when God intervened with a mighty hand and outstretched arm. Verse 11 of today's text: "You will be nursed and satisfied at the breast of his consolations" recalls the terrible trial of faith that the people experienced in the desert when they were hungry and thirsty, and even then God assured them of what was necessary.  This reference to the book of Exodus offers two lessons: on the one hand, God wants us to be free and supports all our efforts to establish justice and freedom; but on the other hand, our cooperation is important and necessary. The people left Egypt thanks to God's intervention, and Israel never forgets this, but it had to walk towards the promised land, sometimes with great difficulty. Then, in verse 13, when Isaiah promises on God's behalf, "I will make peace flow like a river," this does not mean that peace will be established magically. The Lord is always faithful to his promises: we must continue to believe that he remains and works at our side in every situation. At the same time, it is essential that we act because peace, justice and happiness need our convinced and generous contribution. 

*Responsorial Psalm (65/66, 1-3a, 4-5, 6-7a, 16.20)

 As is often the case, the last verse sums up the meaning of the entire psalm: 'Blessed be God who has not rejected my prayer, who has not denied me his mercy' (v. 20). The vocabulary used shows that this psalm is a song of thanksgiving: "Shout, sing, give him glory... let all the earth bow down before you... I will tell of all his deeds," probably composed to accompany the sacrifices in the Temple of Jerusalem. It is not an individual who speaks, but the entire people giving thanks to God. Israel gives thanks as always for its deliverance from Egypt with very clear references: "He turned the sea into dry land... they passed through the river on foot"; or: "Come and see the works of God, terrible in his deeds towards men". Even the expression "the works of God" in the Bible always refers to the liberation from Egypt. Moreover, the similarity between this psalm and the song of Moses after the crossing of the Red Sea (Ex 15) is striking, an event that illuminates the entire history of Israel: God's work for his people has no other purpose than to free them from all forms of slavery. This is the meaning of chapter 66 of Isaiah, which we read this Sunday in the first reading: in a very dark period of Jerusalem's history, after the Babylonian exile, the message is clear: God will comfort you. We do not know if this psalm was composed at the same time, but in any case the context is the same because it was written to be sung in the Temple of Jerusalem, and the faithful who flock there on pilgrimage foreshadow the whole of humanity that will go up to Jerusalem at the end of time. And if the text of Isaiah announces the new Jerusalem where all nations will flock, the psalm responds: 'Acclaim God, all you of the earth... let all the earth bow down before you... let them sing hymns to your name'. The promised joy is the central theme of these two texts: when times are hard, we must remember that God wants nothing but our happiness and that one day his joy will fill the whole earth, as Isaiah writes, to which the psalm echoes: "Come, listen, all you who fear God, and I will tell you what he has done for me" (vv. 16, 20). The texts of the prophet Isaiah and the psalmist are immersed in the same atmosphere, but they are not on the same level: the prophet expresses God's revelation, while the psalm is man's prayer. When God speaks, he is concerned with the glory and happiness of Jerusalem. When the people, through the voice of the psalmist, speak, they give God the glory that belongs to him alone: "Shout for joy, all you people of the earth; sing to God, sing praises to his name; give him glory with praise" (vv. 1-3). Finally, the psalm becomes the voice of all Israel: "Blessed be God, who has not rejected my prayer or withheld his mercy from me" (v. 20). A wonderful way of saying that love will have the last word.

*Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul to the Galatians (6:14-18)

"As for me, there is no other boast than the cross." Paul's insistence on the cross as his only boast suggests that there is a problem. In fact, the letter to the Galatians begins with a strong rebuke because the believers had very quickly turned from Christ to another gospel, and some were sowing confusion by wanting to overturn the gospel of Christ. Those sowing discord were Jews who had converted to Christianity (Jewish Christians) who wanted to force everyone to practise all the prescriptions of the Jewish religion, including circumcision. Paul then warns them because he fears that behind the discussion about whether or not to be circumcised there lies a real heresy, since only faith in Christ, made concrete by Baptism, saves us, and imposing circumcision would be tantamount to denying this, considering the cross of Christ insufficient. For this reason, he reminds the Galatians that their only boast is the cross of Christ. But to understand Paul, it must be clarified that for him the cross is an event and he does not focus only on the sufferings of Jesus: for him it is the central event in the history of the world. The cross—that is, Christ crucified and risen—has reconciled God and humanity, and has reconciled people among themselves. When he writes that through the cross of Christ, 'the world has been crucified to me', he means that since the event of the cross, the world has been definitively transformed and nothing will ever be the same again, as he also writes in his letter to the Colossians (Col 1:19-20). The proof that the cross is the decisive event in history is that death has been conquered: Christ is risen. For Paul, the cross and the resurrection are inseparable, since they are one and the same event. From the cross, a new creation was born, in contrast to the old world. Throughout this letter, Paul contrasts the regime of the Mosaic Law with the regime of faith; life according to the flesh and life according to the Spirit; the old slavery and the freedom we receive from Jesus Christ. By adhering to Christ through faith, we become free to live according to the Spirit. The old world is at war and humanity does not believe that God is merciful love and, as a result, by disobeying his commandments, creates rivalry and wars for power and money. The new creation, on the contrary, is the obedience of the Son, his total trust, his forgiveness of his executioners, his cheek turned to those who tear his beard, as Isaiah writes. The Passion of Christ was a culmination of hatred and injustice perpetrated in the name of God; but Christ made it a culmination of non-violence, gentleness and forgiveness. And we, in turn, grafted onto the Son, are made capable of the same obedience and the same love. This extraordinary conversion, which is the work of the Spirit of God, inspires Paul to write a particularly incisive formula: Through the cross, the world is crucified for me and I for the world, which means: The way of life according to the world is abolished; we now live according to the Spirit, and this becomes a source of pride for Christians. Proclaiming the cross of Christ is not easy, and when he says, 'I bear the marks of Jesus on my body', he is alluding to the persecutions he himself suffered for proclaiming the Gospel. A final note: this is the only Pauline writing that ends with the word 'brothers'. After arguing with the Galatians, Paul finally finds in his community the brotherhood that binds evangelisers to the evangelised, and the only source of this rediscovered love is 'in the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ' (v. 18). 

*From the Gospel according to Luke (10:1-20)

 This page of the Gospel presents Jesus on his way to Jerusalem. After overcoming all temptations and defeating the prince of this world, he must pass on the baton to his disciples, who in turn must pass it on to their successors. The mission is too important and precious and must be shared. First, there is the invitation to pray to "the Lord of the harvest to send workers into his harvest" (v. 2). God knows everything, but he invites us to pray so that we may allow ourselves to be enlightened by him. Prayer is never intended to inform God: that would be presumptuous on our part, but it prepares us to allow ourselves to be transformed by him. He thus sends the large group of disciples on mission, providing them with all the necessary advice to face trials and obstacles that are well known to him. When they are rejected, as Jesus experienced in Samaria, they must not be discouraged but, setting out, they will proclaim to all: "The Kingdom of God is near you" (v. 9).  And they will add: "Even the dust of your town that sticks to our feet, we shake off against you" (v. 11). Here are some specific instructions for the disciples. "I am sending you out as lambs among wolves" (v. 3), which indicates that we must always remain meek as lambs, since the mission of the disciple is to bring peace: "Whatever house you enter, first say, 'Peace be to this house. If there is a son of peace there, your peace will rest on him'" (vv. 5-6). In other words, we must believe at all costs in the contagious power of peace, because when we sincerely wish for peace, peace truly grows. And if someone does not accept you, do not let yourselves be weighed down by failure and rejection. Every disciple will have a difficult life because, if Jesus himself had nowhere to lay his head, this will also be the case for his disciples. For this reason, they must learn to live day by day without worrying about tomorrow, content with eating and drinking what is served, just as in the desert the people of God could gather manna only for that day. To evangelise, they will take with them only the essentials: "no purse, no bag, no sandals" (v. 4) and "do not go from house to house" (v. 7). There will often be painful choices to make because of the urgency of the mission, and it will be important to resist the temptation of the vanity of success: "Do not rejoice that the demons submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven" (v. 20). The desire for fame has always been a trap for disciples, but true apostles are not necessarily the most famous. We might think that the seventy-two disciples passed the test well because, on their return, Jesus was able to say, "I saw Satan fall like lightning from the sky" (v. 18).  As he began his final march to Jerusalem, Jesus felt great comfort because of this, so much so that Luke immediately tells us: "At that moment, he rejoiced in the Holy Spirit and said, 'I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children.

+Giovanni D'Ercole