5th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A) [8 February 2026]

May God bless us and may the Virgin protect us! We are approaching Lent. Let us begin to prepare ourselves spiritually. After the sixth Sunday, on 15 February, we will enter Lent.

*First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah (58:7-10)

At first glance, this text might seem like a nice moral lesson, which would already be something. In reality, however, it says much more. The context is that of the end of the 6th century BC: the return from exile has taken place, but deep wounds remain, 'the devastation of the past' and ruins to be rebuilt. In Jerusalem, religious practice has been re-established and, in good faith, people are trying to please God. However, the prophet has a delicate message to convey: the worship that pleases God is not what the people imagine. The fasts are spectacular, but daily life is marked by quarrels, violence and greed. For this reason, Isaiah denounces a worship that claims to obtain God's favour without conversion of heart: 'You fast for strife and self-defeating arguments... Is this the fast that I choose?' (Isaiah 58:4-5).

We are faced with one of the strongest texts in the Old Testament, which shakes our ideas about God and religion and answers with great clarity a fundamental question: what does God expect of us? These few biblical verses are the fruit of a long maturation in the faith of Israel. From Abraham onwards, people sought what pleased God: first human sacrifices, then animal sacrifices, then fasting, offerings and prayers. But throughout this history, the prophets never ceased to remind the people that true worship cannot be separated from the daily life of the Covenant. This is why Isaiah proclaims: the fast that God desires is to loose the chains of injustice, to free the oppressed, to break every yoke. In God's eyes, every gesture that frees a brother or sister is worth more than the most austere fast. This is followed by a list of concrete actions: feeding the hungry, giving drink to the thirsty, welcoming the homeless poor, clothing the naked, and helping all human misery. It is here that the truth of faith is measured. Three observations conclude the message: First, these actions are an imitation of God's own work, which Israel has always experienced as liberating and merciful. Human beings are truly called to be the image of God, and the way they treat others reveals their relationship with Him. Second: when Isaiah promises 'the glory of the Lord' (v. 8) to those who care for the poor, he is not speaking of an external reward, but of a reality: those who act like God reflect His presence, becoming light in the darkness, because 'where there is love, there is God'. Thirdly, every gesture of justice, liberation and sharing is a step towards the Kingdom of God, that Kingdom of justice and love that the Old Testament awaits and that the Gospel of the Beatitudes presents as being built day by day by the meek, the peaceful and those who hunger for justice.

*Responsorial Psalm (111/112)

Every year, during the Feast of Tabernacles, a feast that still lasts a week in autumn, the whole people made what we might call their "profession of faith": they renewed their Covenant with God and recommitted themselves to respecting the Law. Psalm 111/112 was certainly sung on this occasion. The entire psalm is in itself a short treatise on life in the Covenant: to understand it better, you have to read it from the beginning. I will read you the first verse: 'Hallelujah! Blessed is the man who fears the Lord, who loves his will with all his heart!'. First of all, the psalm begins with the word Hallelujah, literally "Praise God," which is the key word of believers: when the man of the Bible invites us to praise God, it is precisely because of the gift of the Covenant. Then, this psalm is an alphabetical psalm: that is, it contains twenty-two verses, as many as there are letters in the Hebrew alphabet; the first word of each verse begins with a letter of the alphabet in alphabetical order. It is a way of affirming that the Covenant with God concerns the whole of man's life and that God's Law is the only path to happiness for the whole of existence, from A to Z. Finally, the first verse begins with the word 'blessed', addressed to the man who knows how to remain on the path of the Covenant. This immediately brings to mind the Gospel of the Beatitudes, which echoes the same term 'blessed': Jesus uses a word here that is very common in the Bible, but which unfortunately our English translation does not fully convey. In his commentary on the Psalms, André Chouraqui observed that the Hebrew root of this word (blessed is the man Ashrê hā'îsh) has as its fundamental meaning the path, the man's steps on the unobstructed road that leads to the Lord. It is therefore 'less about happiness than about the path that leads to it'. For this reason, Chouraqui himself translated 'Blessed' as 'On the way', implying: you are on the right path, continue. Generally, in the Bible, the word 'blessed' does not stand alone: it is contrasted with its opposite 'unhappy' (blessed is barùk and cursed is 'arūr). The general idea is that in life there are false paths to avoid; some choices or behaviours lead to good, others, on the contrary, lead only to unhappiness. And if we read the entire psalm, we realise that it is constructed in this way. Even the better-known Psalm 1 is structured in the same way: first it describes the good paths, the path to happiness, and only briefly the bad ones, because they are not worth dwelling on. Here, the good choice is already indicated in the first verse: 'Blessed is the man who fears the Lord!'. We find this expression frequently in the Old Testament: the 'fear of God'. Unfortunately, in the liturgical reading, the second part of the verse is missing; I will read it to you in its entirety: 'Blessed is the man who fears the Lord, who loves his will with all his heart.' Here, then, is a definition of 'fear of God': it is love of his will, because one acts in trust. The fear of the Lord is not fear in a negative sense: in fact, a little further on, another verse makes this clear: "The righteous man... trusts in the Lord. His heart is secure" (vv. 7-8). The "fear of God" in the biblical sense is both an awareness of God's holiness, a recognition of all that He does for man and, since He is our Creator, a concern to obey Him: only He knows what is good for us. It is a filial attitude of respect and trusting obedience. Israel thus discovers two truths: God is the All-Other, but He also makes Himself All-Near. He is infinitely powerful, but this power is that of love. We have nothing to fear, because He can and wants our happiness! In Psalm 102/103 we read: "As a father's compassion is toward his children, so the Lord's compassion is toward those who fear Him." To fear the Lord means to have a respectful and trusting attitude toward Him. It also means "to lean on Him." This is the right attitude towards God, the one that puts man on the right path: "Blessed is the man who fears the Lord!" And this is also the right attitude towards others: "The righteous man, merciful, compassionate and just... he gives generously to the poor" (vv. 4, 8). The previous psalm (110/111), very similar to this one, uses the same words "justice, tenderness and mercy" for God and for man. Daily observance of the Law, in everyday life, from A to Z, as symbolised by the alphabet of the psalm, shapes us in God's likeness. I say likeness, because the psalmist reminds us that the Lord remains the All-Other: the formulas are not identical. For God, it is said that He is justice, tenderness and mercy, while for man, the psalmist says "he is a man of justice, tenderness and mercy", that is, these are virtues that he practises, not his intrinsic being. These virtues come from God, and man reflects them in some way. And because his actions are in the image of God, the righteous man becomes a light for others: 'he springs up in the darkness, a light for the upright' (v. 4). Here we hear an echo of the first reading from the prophet Isaiah: 'Share your bread with the hungry, bring the homeless poor into your house, clothe the naked... then your light will rise like the dawn' (58:7). When we give and share, we are more in the image of God, who is pure gift. To the extent that we are able, we reflect his light.

*Second Reading from the First Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Corinthians (2:1-5)

 Saint Paul, as he often does, proceeds by contrasts: the first contrast is that the mystery of God is completely different from the wisdom of men; the second contrast concerns the language of the apostle who proclaims the mystery, which is very different from beautiful human speech and eloquence. Let us take up these two contrasts: the mystery of God / human wisdom; Christian language / eloquence or oratory. First contrast: the mystery of God or human wisdom. Paul says that he came 'to proclaim the mystery of God'; by mystery we mean God's 'merciful plan', which will be developed later in the Letter to the Ephesians (Eph 1:3-14): this plan is to make humanity a perfect communion of love around Jesus Christ, founded on the values of love, mutual service, gift and forgiveness. Jesus already puts this into practice throughout his earthly life. We are therefore very far from the idea of a powerful God in the military sense, as some sometimes imagine. This mystery of God is realised through a 'crucified Messiah', which is completely contrary to human logic, almost a paradox. Paul affirms that Jesus of Nazareth is the Messiah, but not as expected: he was not expected to be crucified; according to our logic, the crucifixion seemed to prove the opposite, because everyone remembered a famous phrase from Deuteronomy: whoever was condemned to death by the law was considered cursed by God (Dt 21:22-23). Yet, this plan of the almighty God is nothing less than Jesus Christ, as Paul says. In witnessing to his faith, Paul has nothing to proclaim but Jesus Christ: He is the centre of human history, of God's plan and of his faith. He wants to know nothing else: "For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ." Behind this phrase we can glimpse the difficulties of resisting the pressures, insults and persecutions already present. This crucified Messiah shows us true wisdom, the wisdom of God: gift and forgiveness, rejection of violence... the whole message of the Gospel of the Beatitudes. In the face of this divine wisdom, human wisdom is reasoning, persuasion, strength and power; this wisdom cannot understand the message of the Gospel. In fact, Paul experienced failure in Athens, the centre of philosophy (Acts 17:16-34). Second opposition: the language of the preacher or the art of oratory. Paul makes no claim to eloquence: this already reassures us, if we are not skilled orators. But he goes further: for him, eloquence, oratory, and the ability to persuade are actually obstacles, incompatible with the message of the Gospel. Proclaiming the Gospel does not mean showing off knowledge or imposing arguments. It is interesting to note that the word 'convince' contains the word 'win': perhaps we are in the wrong place if we think we are proclaiming the religion of Love. Faith, like love, cannot be persuaded... Try to convince someone to love you: love cannot be demonstrated, it cannot be reasoned. The same is true of the mystery of God: it can only be penetrated gradually. The mystery of a poor Messiah, a Messiah-Servant, a crucified Messiah, cannot be proclaimed by means of power: that would be the opposite of the mystery itself! It is in poverty that the Gospel is proclaimed: this should give us courage! The poor Messiah can only be proclaimed by poor means; the Messiah-Servant only by servants. Do not worry if you are not a great speaker: our poverty of language is the only one compatible with the Gospel. Paul goes further and even says that our poverty is a necessary condition for preaching: it leaves room for God's action. It is not Paul who convinces the Corinthians, but the Spirit of God, who gives preaching the power of truth, enabling Christ to be discovered. It follows that it is not the power of our reasoning that convinces: faith is not based on human wisdom, but on the power of the Spirit of God. We can only lend him our voice. Obviously, as with Paul, this requires an enormous act of faith: It was in my weakness, trembling and fearful, that I came to you. My language, my preaching had nothing to do with convincing wisdom; but the Spirit and his power were manifested, so that your faith might not be based on human wisdom, but on the power of God. When it seems that the circle of believers is shrinking, when we dream of powerful media, electronic or financial tools, it is good for us to feel that the proclamation of the Gospel is best suited to poor means. But to accept this, we must admit that the Holy Spirit is the best preacher, and that the witness of our poverty is the best preaching.

*From the Gospel according to Matthew (5:13-16)

If a lamp is beautiful, that is better, but it is not the most important thing! What is required first and foremost is that it gives light, because if it does not give good light, nothing can be seen. As for salt, its vocation is to disappear while performing its task: if it is missing, the dish will be less tasty. On closer inspection, salt and light do not exist for their own sake. Jesus says to his disciples: 'You are the salt of the earth... You are the light of the world': what matters is the earth, the world; salt and light matter only in relation to the earth and the world! By telling his disciples that they are salt and light, Jesus puts them in a missionary situation: you who receive my words become, for this very reason, salt and light for the world: your presence is indispensable. In other words, the Church exists only to evangelise the world. This puts us in our place! The Bible already reminded the people of Israel that they were the chosen people, but at the service of the world; this lesson also applies to us. Returning to salt and light: one may ask what the two elements to which Jesus compares his disciples have in common. We can answer that both are revelatory: salt enhances the flavour of food, light reveals the beauty of people and the world. Food exists before it receives salt; the world and beings exist before they are illuminated. This tells us a lot about the mission that Jesus entrusts to his disciples, to us: no one needs us in order to exist, but we have a specific role to play. Salt of the earth: we are here to reveal to people the flavour of their lives. People do not wait for us to perform acts of love and sharing, which are sometimes wonderful. Evangelising means saying that the Kingdom is among you, in every gesture, in every word of love, and "where there is love, there is God." Light of the world: we are here to enhance the beauty of this world. It is the gaze of love that reveals the true face of people and things. The Holy Spirit has been given to us precisely to be in tune with every gesture or word that comes from Him. But this can only happen with discretion and humility. Too much salt ruins the taste of food; too strong a light crushes what it wants to illuminate. To be salt and light, one must love deeply, truly love. Today's readings repeat this to us in different but consistent ways. Evangelisation is not a conquest; the New Evangelisation is not a reconquest. The proclamation of the Gospel takes place only in the presence of love. Let us remember Paul's warning to the Corinthians in the second reading: only the poor and the humble can preach the Kingdom. This presence of love can be very demanding, as the first reading shows: the connection between Isaiah and the Gospel is very significant. To be the light of the world means to be at the service of our brothers and sisters; Isaiah is concrete: sharing bread or clothing, breaking down all obstacles that impede human freedom. This Sunday's Psalm also says the same thing: 'the righteous man', that is, the one who generously shares his riches, is a light for others. Through his words and gestures of love, others will discover the source of all love: as Jesus says. Seeing the good that the disciples do, people will give glory to the Father in heaven, that is, they will discover that God's plan for humanity is a plan of peace and justice. On the contrary, how can people believe in God's plan of love if we, his ambassadors, do not multiply the gestures of solidarity and justice that society requires? Salt is always in danger of losing its flavour: it is easy to forget the powerful words of the prophet Isaiah, heard in the first reading; and it is no coincidence that the liturgy offers them to us just before the beginning of Lent, a time when we will reflect on what kind of fasting God prefers. One last observation: today's Gospel (salt and light) immediately follows the proclamation of the Beatitudes in Matthew last Sunday. There is therefore a link between the two passages, which can illuminate each other. Perhaps the best way to be salt and light is to live according to the spirit of the Beatitudes, that is, in opposition to the spirit of the world: to accept humility, gentleness, purity, justice; to be peacemakers in all circumstances; and, above all, to accept poverty and lack, with a single goal: 'so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven'. Additions: According to the Second Vatican Council document on the Church, Lumen Gentium, we are not the true light of the world; Jesus Christ is. By telling his disciples that they are light, Jesus reveals that it is God himself who shines through them, because in Scripture, as in the Council, it is always made clear that all light comes from God.

+Giovanni D'Ercole

Presentation of Jesus at the Temple [2 February 2026]

May God bless us and may the Virgin protect us! Here is also a brief commentary on the texts of the liturgy for the feast of the Presentation of Jesus at the Temple.

*First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Malachi (3:1-4)

Malachi's text was written in a context of crisis: there was no longer a Davidic king, the people were subjugated by the Persians, and authority was in the hands of the priests. For this reason, the prophet insists on the covenant with the Levites, recalling its divine origin and denouncing its present corruption. The central announcement is the imminent coming of the Lord to his temple, also called the Angel of the Covenant: not a simple messenger, but God himself who comes to re-establish the Covenant. This coming is both desired and feared, because it is a coming of judgement that purifies: it does not destroy man, but eliminates the evil that is in him. Before this coming, God sends a messenger who prepares the way by calling for conversion. The New Testament will recognise John the Baptist as this precursor and Jesus himself as the Angel of the Covenant announced by Malachi. The message remains relevant today: God enters his temple to renew the Covenant, purify worship and lead his people back to fidelity of heart.

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

The poetic expression "Lift up your heads, O gates" (v. 9) is a hyperbole that celebrates the majesty of the "King of Glory," that is, God himself, who solemnly enters the Temple of Jerusalem. The gates do not simply open: they are lifted up, as if the building itself had to become larger to accommodate the divine presence. The psalm refers to the solemn dedication of the first Temple by Solomon (around 950 BC), when the Ark of the Covenant was carried in procession to the Holy City, accompanied by singing, music and sacrifices. The Ark, placed in the Holy of Holies under the wings of the cherubim, represented the invisible throne of God in the midst of his people. The cherubim, far from the imagery of little angels, were majestic and symbolic figures, a sign of divine sovereignty. The psalm seems to be structured as a liturgical dialogue between two choirs: one invites the gates to open, the other proclaims the identity of the king of glory as the strong and victorious Lord. The warrior titles remind us that God accompanied Israel in its struggles for freedom and survival: the Ark was the sign of his presence in the people's battles. Even after the disappearance of the Ark, especially after the Babylonian Exile, this psalm continued to be sung in the Temple. It was precisely the absence of the Ark that increased its spiritual value: Israel learned that God's presence is not tied to an object, however sacred and laden with memory. Over the centuries, the psalm took on a messianic meaning: the invocation 'let the King of glory enter' became an expression of the expectation of the Messiah, the definitive king who would defeat evil and inaugurate a renewed humanity. The 'Lord of hosts' came to be understood progressively as the God of the universe, no longer just the God of Israel but the Lord of all humanity. This is why the Christian liturgy sings this psalm on the feast of the Presentation of Jesus in the Temple: it is a profession of faith that recognises in that child the true king of glory, God himself who enters his Temple and comes to meet his people.

*Second Reading from the Letter to the Hebrews (2:14-18)

The Letter to the Hebrews was written in a climate of controversy: Christians of Jewish origin were accused of following a Messiah who could not be a priest according to the Law. The author responds by showing that Jesus fulfils the priesthood in a new and definitive way. Although he does not belong to the tribe of Levi, Jesus is a priest according to the order of Melchizedek, that is, in a more ancient and universal form. He does not reproduce the priesthood of the Old Testament, but brings it to fulfilment, realising its profound purpose. Jesus is a true priest because: he is fully in solidarity with humanity, sharing its weakness, suffering and death; he is in full communion with God, as his resurrection demonstrates; he re-establishes the Covenant, freeing humanity from fear and the slavery of death. Salvation is offered to all, but it concerns in particular the 'children of Abraham', that is, those who live in faith as trust. The Covenant is a free gift from God, but it requires a free response: to accept or reject it remains the responsibility of man.

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

  The account of the Presentation of Jesus in the Temple is constructed with great care and highlights two fundamental elements: the Law and the Spirit. In the first verses, Luke repeatedly emphasises the Law of Israel, not as a simple set of prescriptions, but as an expression of the faith and expectation of the people. Jesus' life begins within the faith of Israel: Mary and Joseph devoutly perform the prescribed gestures, placing the child within the history and hope of their people. Luke's first message is clear: the salvation of humanity is born within the Law of Israel. It is in this context that the Word of God became incarnate and that God's plan of love for humanity took shape. Immediately afterwards, Simeon enters the scene, guided by the Holy Spirit, who is also mentioned several times. It is the Spirit who reveals the identity of the child to him: Jesus is the Saviour prepared by God before all peoples. Simeon's words summarise the entire Old Testament as a long preparation for the fulfilment of salvation, which concerns not only Israel but all humanity. Israel is the 'glory' because it has been chosen as the instrument of universal salvation. The event takes place in the Temple of Jerusalem, a decisive place for Luke: here Malachi's prophecy about the Lord's sudden entry into his Temple is fulfilled. Jesus is recognised as the Angel of the Covenant, the Lord himself who comes to visit his people. The images of light and glory used by Simeon fit perfectly into this perspective. The story also recalls the Psalm of the 'king of glory': the long-awaited royal Messiah enters the Temple, not with outward power, but in the poverty of a newborn baby. Nevertheless, the scene is solemn and full of glory, because in that child is present all the expectation of Israel, represented by Simeon and Anna, figures of faithful hope. Simeon's canticle affirms that Jesus is the Messiah and the glory of God: with him, divine glory enters the Sanctuary. This means that Jesus not only brings the glory of God, but is the glory of God, is God himself present among his people. With his coming, the time of the Law reaches its fulfilment: the Angel of the Covenant has entered the Temple to give the Spirit, enlighten the nations and inaugurate the new time of universal salvation.

+Giovanni D'Ercole

Bread and prodigies of the Christ-ghost

(Mk 6:53-56)

A saved existence requires a transformation from within; another beginning. A different foothold of good.

In fact, the «fringe of the mantle» is its People - and each of us, when we are enabled to perceive and prolong his appeal, his spirit, care, action.

A «touching» that is not mere gesture: it calls total involvement;  personal Faith, a digging in.

The crowds around the Lord and the Church, his primary presence, seek bread and healing... but sometimes they forget the adhesion to the inner Person who gives and cares.

Yet even in these cases the infallible Guide re-proposes its uninterrupted vital wave - with therapies that do not impose themselves by passing through souls as a bolt of lightning would, but in actual existence.

God frees, saves, creates, starting from tensions and defects (including religious ones) because He wants to bring us to awareness.

The Father wishes to make us penetrate the value of the act of love that makes the weak strong; each embodied gesture that re-creates, open to any sense of emptiness.

Nuisances do not happen out of bad luck or punishment: they come to let us flourish again, just beginning from the pains of the soul.

If they persist, no fear: they become more explicit messages, from our own higher Seed.

It means that in our orchestra something is out of tune or overlooked, and must fade or be discovered and put into play.

The symptoms of restlessness also belong to the innate quintessence - which always has power of topicality.

The keystone will therefore not be the look, nor the health, but the very acceptance of the bitterness, of the hardships, which come to clear out the unessential - and release trapped spiritual impulses.

Perhaps not a few would prefer to wait for a miraculous landing of the Master [typified healer] that brings immediate benefit and favours.

Exterior salvation with a magical flavour - transient, although physically palpable.

Total and sacred redemption - truly messianic - is not resounding. It’s accomplished only step by step; thus it remains profound and radical.

Capable of new beginnings, and birth acts of still embryonic energy, precisely starting from the individual precariousness.

We proclaim in words and deeds the authentic Face of the Son, precisely to annihilate the idea of the Christ-phantom of the previous passage (v.49), an evanescent, merely apologetic figure.

His intimates’ People - a presence no longer ineffable and mysterious - works in proximity, because being healed does not mean escaping transience.

A saved existence requires a transformation from within; another beginning. A different foothold and grasp of the good.

Elsewhere from the civilisation of appearance is the ‘improvement’ of our condition and security, from insecurity.

Leapfrogging is not in a simple getting back on our feet; indiscreet and passing ‘gain’.

Phenomenal, but only punctual and inconclusive, or that finally abdicates.

[Monday 5th wk. in O.T.  February 9, 2026]

Bread and wonders of the Christ-phantom

(Mk 6:53-56)

"He can carry the cloak of the Master who is devoted to the cause of non-violence and non-possession, who is driven by the pursuit of truth and right view, who is able to solve his own emotional and intellectual problems and can show others the way to overcome their emotional and intellectual problems" [Acharya Mahaprajna].

While some are continually crowding around Jesus and preventing others from having a personal relationship with Him, something has to be made up; at least take Him in stride (v.56).

"And wherever he entered villages or towns or hamlets they placed the sick in the squares and begged him to touch even the fringe of his cloak. And as many as touched him were saved'.

Indeed, the fringe of his cloak is his People - and each one of us, when by Gift we are enabled to perceive and prolong his call, spirit, care, action.

A 'touching' that is not mere gesture: it calls for total involvement; personal faith, digging in.

The crowds around the Lord and the Church, his primary presence, seek bread and healing... but sometimes forget adherence to the inner Person who gives and heals.

Yet even in these cases the infallible Guide re-proposes his unbroken wave of life - with therapies that do not impose themselves by passing through souls as lightning would, but in real existence.

God liberates, saves, creates, from tensions and faults (even religious ones) because he wants to bring us to awareness.

The Father desires to make us penetrate the value of the act of love that makes the weak strong; every re-creating gesture, embodied, open to any sense of emptiness.

Annoyances do not happen out of misfortune or chastisement: they come to let us flourish again, precisely out of the pains of the soul.

If they persist, no fear: they become more explicit messages, from our own Higher Seed.

It means that in our orchestra something is out of tune or neglected, and must either fade away or be discovered and brought into play.

Otherwise, we will not be able to grow towards the destiny that characterises a Calling and every discomfort.

The symptoms of unease also belong to the innate quintessence - which always has topical power.

The key will therefore not be looks, nor health, but the very acceptance of bitterness, of hardships, which come to clear away the inessential - and release trapped spiritual drives.

Energies of imbalance, which, however, want to be transformed into the ability to cast ballast; as well as to better accommodate and integrate the vocation into one's own history, in order to build life again.

Perhaps not a few would prefer to wait for a miraculous landing of the Master [typified healer] that brings immediate benefit, immediate favour.

Outward salvation with a magical flavour - transient, even if physically palpable or even in ethical semblance.

A phenomenal but simplistic Lord.

An Appearance that dies immediately, then we start again - if He (in us, in our turning points) did not involve the same uncertainties that mark us.

And the long time of trials, which gradually take on a more intimate weight.

Total and sacred - truly messianic - redemption is little prone to epidermal clamour.

Healing is not scenic. It is only realised step by step; thus it remains profound and radical.

It becomes capable of new beginnings and acts of birth of still embryonic energy, precisely from individual precariousness.

Its People of intimates - a presence that is no longer ineffable and mysterious - works in proximity, to erase the false image of the philosophical or forensic God, always external.

A sovereign or imperative engine, distant and absent - touchy, predatory - that occasionally takes aim; it does not overcome, nor does it reconfirm. Never looking at our present.

Thus the Church rejects the idea of the ratifying Eternal, but also that of the mass thaumaturge, immediately resolving - so dear to the miracle merchants.

A figure that easily takes hold of our fantasies.

We announce his authentic Face with words and gestures, precisely to annihilate the idea of the Christ-phantom of the previous passage (v.49), a deplorable and absurd figure.

An evanescent icon, merely apologetic, which unfortunately in history has given ample space to business associates with the Most High.

As such, being healed does not mean escaping transience.

A saved existence requires a transformation from within; a different beginning. A different grasp of good.

Jesus traverses our environments as a silent traveller, and also accepts a primitive faith.

But albeit with quiet power, the divine impulse works in every seeker of meaning and every needy person.

It establishes itself there personally, precisely from interrupted dreams. 

The Lord cannot be imprisoned and contained: he draws near, to initiate great cleansing, shift our gaze, and renew the stale universe.

Thus he transforms our souls, in the experience of his free communion,

communion that wants to take up residence in us, to merge and dilate the drive to life - perhaps cowering in abstention. For each one to be amazed at himself, at unknown passions, at new relationships.

Believer and community manifest in empathic forms the incisive healing power of Faith in the Risen One, starting from one's own intimate story.

We experience him alive in the monotonous, unrewarding and precarious day-to-day - nevertheless capable of changing the order of existence hidden in sketchy quarters [v.56: "hamlets"] and its unexpressed destination.

Without disturbing with special, one-sided, or pressing effects.

The Tao Tê Ching (xi) writes: "Thirty races unite in one hub, and in its non-being is the usefulness of the chariot".

Elsewhere from the civilisation of appearance is the 'improvement' of our condition and security, from insecurity.

Not in a simple getting back on our feet; indiscreet and transient 'gain'.

Phenomenal, but only punctual and inconclusive, or finally abdicating.

To internalise and live the message:

How do you consider Jesus? Miracle-worker or recoverer?

How do you deal with those who are excluded or seem to be without a shepherd?

Being saved does not mean merely escaping punishment but being delivered from the evil that dwells within us. It is not punishment that must be eliminated but sin, the rejection of God and of love which already bears the punishment in itself.

The Prophet Jeremiah was to say to the rebellious people: “Your wickedness will chasten you, and your apostasy will reprove you. Know and see that it is evil and bitter for you to forsake the Lord your God” (Jer 2:19).

It is from this sorrow and bitterness that the Lord wishes to save man, liberating him from sin. Therefore, however, a transformation from within is necessary, some foothold of of goodness, a beginning from which to start out in order to change evil into good, hatred into love, revenge into forgiveness..

[Pope Benedict, General Audience 18 May 2011]

2. The Council has already borne much fruit in the realm of missionary activity. There has been an increase of local churches with their own bishops, clergy and workers in the apostolate. The presence of Christian communities is more evident in the life of nations, and communion between the churches has led to a lively exchange of spiritual benefits and gifts. The commitment of the laity to the work of evangelization is changing ecclesial life, while particular churches are more willing to meet with the members of other Christian churches and other religions, and to enter into dialogue and cooperation with them. Above all, there is a new awareness that missionary activity is a matter for all Christians, for all dioceses and parishes, Church institutions and associations.

Nevertheless, in this "new springtime" of Christianity there is an undeniable negative tendency, and the present document is meant to help overcome it. Missionary activity specifically directed "to the nations" (ad gentes) appears to be waning, and this tendency is certainly not in line with the directives of the Council and of subsequent statements of the Magisterium. Difficulties both internal and external have weakened the Church's missionary thrust toward non-Christians, a fact which must arouse concern among all who believe in Christ. For in the Church's history, missionary drive has always been a sign of vitality, just as its lessening is a sign of a crisis of faith.

[Pope John Paul II, Redemptoris Missio]

God is always at work out of love and it is up to us to respond to him with responsibility and in a spirit of reconciliation, leaving room for the Holy Spirit. This was the invitation addressed by the Pope in the Mass celebrated Monday morning, 9 February, in the chapel of the Casa Santa Marta.

"Today's liturgy of the Word," Francis explained immediately, referring to the passage from Genesis (1:1-19), "leads us to think, to meditate on God's workings: God works". So much so that "Jesus himself said: 'My Father still works, still acts, still works; me too!". And so, the Pope recalled, "some medieval theologians explained: first God, the Creator, creates the universe, creates the heavens, the earth, the living. He creates. The work of creation'. However, 'creation does not end: He continually sustains what He has created, He works to sustain what He has created so that it goes on'.

Precisely in Mark's Gospel (6:53-56), the Pope noted, "we see God's 'other creation'" that is, "that of Jesus who comes to 're-create' what had been ruined by sin". And "we see Jesus among the people". In fact, Mark writes: "When he got out of the boat, the people immediately recognised him and flocked from all over the region and began to bring the sick to him on stretchers, wherever they heard he was; and those who touched him were saved". It is "the 're-creation'", precisely, and "the liturgy expresses the soul of the Church in this, when it makes us say in a beautiful prayer: 'Oh God, who so marvellously created the universe, but more marvellously recreated it in redemption'". So 'this "second creation" is more wonderful than the first, this second work is more wonderful'.

There is then, Francis continued, "another work: the work of perseverance in the faith, which Jesus says is done by the Holy Spirit: 'I will send you the Paraclete and He will teach you and make you remember what I have said'". It is "the work of the Spirit within us, to make Jesus' word alive, to preserve creation, to ensure that this creation does not fail". So "the presence of the Spirit there, making the first creation and the second creation alive".

In short, 'God works, continues to work, and we can ask ourselves how we are to respond to this creation of God, which was born out of love because He works out of love'. Thus "to the 'first creation' we must respond with the responsibility that the Lord gives us: 'The earth is yours, bring it forth; make it grow!'". Therefore "for us too there is the responsibility to make the earth grow, to make creation grow, to guard it and make it grow according to its laws: we are lords of creation, not masters". And we must not 'take possession of creation, but make it grow, faithful to its laws'. Precisely "this is the first response to God's work: to work to care for creation, to make it bear fruit".

In this perspective, the Pope argued, 'when we hear that people hold meetings to think about how to guard creation, we can say: "But no, it's the greens!"'. Instead, he relaunched, "it is not the greens: this is Christian!". And "it is our response to God's 'first creation', it is our responsibility!". In fact, "a Christian who does not care for creation, who does not make it grow, is a Christian who does not care for God's work, that work born of God's love for us". And "this is the first response to the first creation: to guard creation, to make it grow".

But "to the 'second creation', how do we respond?" asked Francis, noting that, in this regard, "the Apostle Paul tells us a right word, which is the true response: 'Let yourselves be reconciled with God'". It is, he explained, 'that open interior attitude to go continuously on the road of interior reconciliation, of communal reconciliation, because reconciliation is the work of Christ'. And Paul goes on to say: 'God has reconciled the world in Christ'. And "this is the second answer". So "to the 'second creation' we say: 'Yes, we must allow ourselves to be reconciled with the Lord'".

Francis then proposed another question: "And to the work that the Holy Spirit does in us, of reminding us of Jesus' words, of explaining to us, of making us understand what Jesus said, how do we respond?" It was "Paul who told us" not to grieve "the Holy Spirit who is in you: be careful, he is your host, he is within you, he is working within you! Do not grieve the Holy Spirit". And this "because we believe in a personal God. God is person: he is person Father, person Son and person Holy Spirit'. Moreover, "all three are involved in this creation, in this recreation, in this perseverance in re-creation". So "to all three we respond: to guard and make creation grow, let us be reconciled with Jesus, with God in Jesus, in Christ, every day, and do not grieve the Holy Spirit, do not chase him away: he is the guest of our heart, the one who accompanies us, who makes us grow". 

In conclusion, the Pope prayed that "the Lord will give us the grace to understand that He is at work; and give us the grace to respond rightly to this work of love."

[Pope Francis, St. Martha, in L'Osservatore Romano 10/02/2015]

(Mt 5:13-16)

«Beautiful Works» [which express fullness] are good works, enriched by the splendour of disinterest, listening, hospitality, prayer and humble dialogue, cordial fraternity.

The plural term (v.16) indicates our vocation to reinterpret in a personal way the Self-Portrait of Christ imprinted in the Beatitudes just proclaimed (vv.1-12).

We each have an irreplaceable role in the moments of equilibrium break and Exodus.

We are legitimized unconditionally.

God has respect for the shortcomings and the functions that are lacking: who knows what blissful novelties they hide and are preparing.

The Beatitudes have their own fragrance, but all personal. Their «salt» fights the insignificant of fatuous hopes.

And sons look far away, but they are with the "pasta"... remaining a living call: between God and man [who is himself even in fraternity] there is an inviolable bond.

In fact, «Light» is what doesn’t mix with things, but distinguishes them.

The Israelites considered themselves «Light of the world» for their devotion and impeccable religious practice.

For Jesus, the faithful and the Community are «Light» because they walk in the friendly glory of the Master.

The disciple and the Assembly are «Salt» because they appear in the world under any circumstance as those who give it meaning, Wisdom [from the Latin «sapĕre», to have flavour].

We are called to be a sign of a new Pact, because the unexpected Relation of the Mount that the Son proposes could no longer be contained in the First Covenant.

To the ancient needs of purification Christ replaces those of full fraternity, which in the enhancement of each person gives taste and (precisely) flavor, and becomes a lamp to our steps.

This "second Pact" doesn’t crush the believing people. Sign of a Father who recovers and infuses orientations to the individual path and to the Churches - not from the outside, but from our roots and as a leaven.

We become a living Beauty thanks to an activity that is imperfect but that has its influence on flowering, from within.

Thus preserving people from the unraveling of dehumanization and corruption - like «salt» with food.

«Salt and Light» are every little divine element that has its own Mystery and Appeal.

Our little candles can continue to thin out the darkness, but only until we put them under a «bushel» (v.15), that is, under a pedissee «measure» - wich is not the different, propulsive and always unprecedent one of the Beatitudes.

In Christ we are led to an evolutionary leap: we are Sapidity though minute of things, and limited Lights, yes - but not inhibited.

The life of Faith guides and stimulates the building of a realm of personal Taste and Love, without hysteria or intimate dissociations.

This adventure is configured as a New Alliance between soul, reality, global and local world, signs of time and Mystery.

Light of Freedom that coincides with our Vocation by Name. Intelligent energy that knows how to draw alternative life even from the wounds inflicted.

[5th ​​Sunday in O.T. (year A)  February 8, 2026]

Fullness of minimal and beautiful works, not small and insignificant

(Mt 5:13-16)

    "Beautiful works" [which express fullness] are good works, enriched by the splendour of selflessness, listening, hospitality, humble prayer and dialogue, and cordial fraternity.

The plural term (v. 16) indicates - beyond abilities and circumstances - our vocation to reinterpret in a personal way the Self-Portrait of Christ imprinted in the Beatitudes just proclaimed (vv. 1-12).

The theme of the passage is that of fidelity, which integrates and overcomes inconstancy - and the need to seal love with risk, which makes us authentic [last Beatitude: vv.10-12].

The Lord has a surprising trust, because his Plan is to become the flavour and fundamental orientation of human history - not only 'in favour of all', but for each individual (even those considered insignificant).

Of course, only Jesus is the liturgical Amen: the icon of fulfilled humanity, consistency of dedication, the Yes and the finality of the Promises.

But his story has always been contrary to the current mentality.

Therefore, even we - perhaps 'seen' as inadequate - can embody a path where the Gospel arises not only as something common, and therefore 'halfway'.

We each have an irreplaceable role in moments of disruption and Exodus.

We are legitimised without conditions.

God has respect for shortcomings and missing functions: who knows what blessed novelties they hide and are preparing.

In his commentary on the Tao (ii), Master Ho-shang Kung states:

'The original ch'i gives life to all creatures and does not appropriate them', that is, it does not go back, it does not confer the old, backward and fixed order. It does not run for cover; rather, it gives a charge - not partial, but vital and illuminating.

Of course, it is precisely in consumer goods that constant change lies: this confuses the conventional religious idea.

But the fact that our Vocation is: to be and become more and more the Source of Life like the Father, and signs of the Covenant between Heaven and earth (with equal dignity to the Son) values every small divine element in us, or that we promote in our brothers and sisters.

We cannot escape our essence, and we do so with passion - not out of an iron will to 'be' 'salt' and 'light' according to opinion.

So, instead of yearning to return to functioning like everyone else or as before, we will begin to respect our own and others' retreats of the soul.

In its pauses and questions of meaning, it is nurturing the future of the Kingdom.

In Jesus' time, flames were obtained from fats: extinguishing a lamp with a breath meant filling the House with nauseating miasmas. 

This is what happens in a voluntarist and inattentive Church, when there is an excess of dirigisme that does not respect the unrepeatable vocational dignity - replaced by manners.

Every blade of grass makes its own distinct contribution to making the field green; this does not mean that it feels constrained - nor can it be extinguished or reduced by a pretentious and ostentatious context that would risk altering it.

The Beatitudes have their own fragrance, but it is entirely personal: it would be futile to attenuate their aroma by adding ordinary cream, which sweetens various dishes (but unifies their peaks). Or candyfloss, more suited to festivals of castagnole, castanets and firecrackers, and variety shows.

Their 'salt' combats the insignificance of vain hopes or those of others (béchamel sauce of appearances). It introduces an internal and savoury wisdom into the world of side dishes, salads, carousels and insipidities.

Children look far away, but they stay with the 'pasta'... remaining a living reminder: between God and man [who is himself even in brotherhood] there is an inviolable bond.

In fact, 'Light' is what does not mix with things, but distinguishes them.

This means that, without too many compliments, spiritual discernment must be wrested from the clutches of those who, out of quietism and in order not to cause annoyance to those complacent with power, mitigate and adapt, indeed hide the Gospel - turning it into a lullaby.

The parallel passage in Luke 11:33 concerns the reception of pagans: to bring 'light' to those who enter the House.

Matthew is primarily concerned with those who already dwell there: whose specific weight and life of relationships based on the conviviality of differences must become Light in itself - to allow everyone to understand the difference between the seeds of death and the paths of complete Life.

The Israelites considered themselves the 'Light of the world' because of their devotion and impeccable religious practice.

A great Roman parish priest told me that one of the things that had struck him on his travels in the USA was seeing too many Catholic citadels on top of hills, clearly visible to the eye but equally clearly equipped with everything - therefore detached, able to provide for themselves, closed to comparison with today's real urban life.

This approach is diametrically opposed to that of many evangelical communities, which are less conspicuous and do not seek to attract people with their external beauty. They are integrated into the fabric of the city and are therefore able to shed light on the daily lives of people seeking a personal and real relationship with God the Father.

For Jesus, the faithful and the community are 'Light' because they walk in the friendly glory of the Master.

He remains the slaughtered Lamb who becomes available food, and does not give the impression of magnificence or clamour; he does not shut himself up in fortresses, nor does he terrorise.

The disciple and the Assembly are 'Salt' because they appear in the world in all circumstances as those who give it meaning, Wisdom [from the Latin sapĕre, to have flavour].

We are called to be a sign of a new Covenant, because the unexpected Relationship of the Mountain that the Son proposes could no longer be contained in the First Covenant.

Christ replaces the ancient demands of purification with those of full brotherhood, which, in valuing each person, gives taste and (precisely) flavour, and becomes a lamp for our steps.

This 'second Covenant' does not crush the believing people. 

The inclination to unravel one's own evolution by becoming protagonists in the Name of the New Agreement will transmit illumination and fragrance to the journey.

In this way, we will allow ourselves to be moulded, yielding to our Core that wants to grow, express itself, and give space to the sides that are still in shadow.

Signs of a Father who recovers and instils guidance on the individual path and that of the Churches - not from the outside, but starting from our roots and like a leaven.

We become living Beauty thanks to an activity that is imperfect but has its influence on flowering, from within.

Thus preserving people from the decay of dehumanisation and corruption - like 'salt' with food.

In fact, if not properly understood thanks to the qualitative leap of Faith-love, even religious sense can channel women and men into a thousand streams of cunning...

Towards a decomposition of wisdom, and schematic, disembodied, insipid hastiness - as well as, unfortunately, indistinct fog.

'Salt and Light' are every small divine element already within us. Thus, any effort for beauty, solidity and variety will not be lost - although reduced and diminished: it has its own Mystery and Appeal.

Of course, even in traditional religion, the value of small things is not denied, but they remain small and fixed - without leaps.

In a climate where 'Ne quid nimis' [nothing excessive] prevails, the summary conditions all seem aimed at confirming the system of things and roles.

The cloak of customs weakens the peaks, relegates the personalities of simple people to restricted, insignificant areas, which urge them to invest their energies in vacuous, childish aspects.

The idiocy of certain details is always there, stifling evolution.

In Fede's experience, we do not despise even the smallest contribution to the construction of a Kingdom alternative to the current one - sometimes unifying, but based on nonsense and catwalks in obvious disrepair and stench.

Our candles can continue to dispel the darkness, but only until we place them under a 'bushel' (v.15), that is, until we give up, to put them under a slavish 'measure' - which is not the different, propulsive and always new measure of the Beatitudes.

In Christ, we are guided to an evolutionary leap: we are the minute Savouriness of things, and limited Lights, yes - but not inhibited, nor small and 'baby'.

The life of Faith guides and stimulates the building of a kingdom of personal Flavour and Love, without hysteria or intimate dissociations.

This adventure takes the form of a New Covenant between soul, reality, the global and local world, signs of the times and Mystery.

Light of Freedom that coincides with our Vocation by Name. Intelligent energy that knows how to draw alternative life even from the wounds inflicted.

The salt gone mad of religion without Faith: treating ourselves as sick people

(Mt 5:13)

One of the possible translations from the Greek of the expression in v. 13 [perhaps the most plausible] is: 'if the salt goes mad'.

Why does it go mad? It refers to personal harmony with the divine Covenant that dwells within us and to which we do not want to give space, even though it would be truly fulfilling.

All this because we are accustomed to living and feeding on external attitudes.

The Covenant would like to guide our little boat even in this time of recovery from the tragedies that are blocking the world, but it is made difficult by the recitation of scripts - by what 'must be done' according to previous ideas and routine.

This expression in Matthew 5:13 is the same as that of the 'foolish' man (Mt 7:26) who builds his house not on the Rock [of Freedom, which coincides with his Calling].

He also 'builds' ostentatious realities, but on unstable elements that we sometimes see as fragile, lacking in substance - therefore without a solid foundation. Rather, they are a reflection of handed-down thoughts, or of calculation and fantasy; excessively sophisticated.

It is also the age-old detachment between ritual devotion and concrete life, which the Christian community unfortunately sometimes demonstrates in the face of a world that awaits answers to needs that touch us and urgent hopes (not those of a 'flock' that we secretly dislike).

Instead, here and there, we would like to rebuild everything as it 'should be' and as it was before... In this way, we would continue carefree to pursue things that are now useless, neglecting the new reality and the essence of character.

Embryonic and genuine inclinations that would give weight to hidden resources, embedded in our cosmic being as creatures and in our most fragrant personal tendencies.

Internal powers that unblock situations.

The behaviour of those who have become accustomed to listening - and are eager not to celebrate the Presence of the Lord and live their faith intensely, but to return to 'mass' and the old containers - must not be so blatantly empty, duplicitous, formal and disinterested; so openly contradictory to the authentic Appeal, which the believer himself emphatically proclaims to believe in.

There is a Mystery to follow, which is leading to a different uniqueness. And it wants to draw alternative life - truly ours - precisely from the wounds inflicted.

Nothing to be done: the underlying lacerations remain permanently lurking - those caused by those who would like to engage in critical witness, but are not reborn in unique opportunities... and constantly find themselves prey to constructed ideas, rather than inspired (and in their intelligent energy).

In the expression 'salt that goes mad', the author evokes a sort of radical inner split, typical of the personal soul and the unknown Elsewhere that we would finally be called to welcome, instead of opposing.

The Secret that lurks in the present, in fact, can end up being trampled on by external factors, such as institutional expectations, which leave no room for the revolution of habits and goals.

One of these is the precious one of building a praying church in every home.

Even in our spiritual life, we often want to be like the devout models we have in mind, or even stronger (perhaps to resemble our guides).

These are thoughts that neither convince nor stir the heart. In reality, they become vocational blocks, inhibiting the primordial virtue that belongs to us - convincing, it would move us further.

Christ calls us to acknowledge our unfettered uniqueness and unpredictable eccentricity - the only factor for recovery.

Exceptionality that for Him is not a disturbance, but an authentic resource.

We do not know how He will guide us and where He will lead us; what new eras (which will open up Other, and we do not know) He will allow us to enjoy, proceeding in the adventure of the Beatitudes just proclaimed (vv. 1-12).

This is the profound experiential difference between religiosity and Faith.

The latter corresponds to us because it is lovable in its intimacy. It does not take a pessimistic view of the tide of life.

It focuses on the innate perfection of our ways of being, however unique and unexpected.

In short:

We are not people to be cured. In terms of vocation, each of us is already mysteriously gifted and perfect.

By truly entrusting ourselves to the Call by Name instead of to identifications that plagiarise and leave us brooding in vain, we will reach the fullness of being.

The golden age will coincide with the time of experiences that make us feel completely alive.

Even moments of emptiness will serve to regenerate us and shift our perspective. We will realise that nothing is missing.

Instead, by entrusting our story to the narrow-minded idea of perfection and old situations to be regained, multiplying resolutions with expectations that do not concern us, we will only succeed in shattering ourselves.

In this way, we will never feel satisfied with the growth of the sense of immensity in our particular being and development.

The great Models (which then betray us) force us into criticism and the anxiety of chasing after things - to treat ourselves as if we were sick: full of discord within our souls and torment in our minds.

It is the madness of the obvious, which through conformist quietude or a crazy expenditure of energy promises to take possession of who knows what, but does not make the germinal leap of the life of Faith.

Spousal trust and creative gesture that wants to welcome everything: states of discomfort, aspects in shadow, nascent tides - and expand Happiness.

Lumen Fidei

1. The light of faith: with this expression, the tradition of the Church has indicated the great gift brought by Jesus, who, in the Gospel of John, presents himself thus: 'I have come into the world as light, so that whoever believes in me may not remain in darkness' (Jn 12:46). St Paul also expresses it in these terms: "And God, who said, 'Let light shine out of darkness,' has shone in our hearts" (2 Cor 4:6). In the pagan world, hungry for light, the cult of the Sun God, Sol invictus, invoked at sunrise, had developed. Even though the sun rose every day, it was well understood that it was incapable of shining its light on the whole of human existence. The sun, in fact, does not illuminate all of reality; its rays are incapable of reaching the shadow of death, where the human eye is closed to its light. "Because of their faith in the sun," says St Justin Martyr, "no one has ever been seen ready to die." Aware of the great horizon that faith opened up for them, Christians called Christ the true sun, "whose rays give life." To Martha, who weeps for the death of her brother Lazarus, Jesus says: "Did I not tell you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?" (Jn 11:40). Those who believe see; they see with a light that illuminates the entire path, because it comes to us from the risen Christ, the morning star that never sets.

An illusory light?

2. Yet, when we speak of this light of faith, we can hear the objection of many of our contemporaries. In the modern age, it was thought that such a light might have been sufficient for ancient societies, but that it was not needed in the new era, for man who had become an adult, proud of his reason, eager to explore the future in new ways. In this sense, faith appeared to be an illusory light, preventing man from cultivating the audacity of knowledge. The young Nietzsche invited his sister Elisabeth to take risks, travelling "new paths... in the uncertainty of independent progress". He added: 'At this point, the paths of humanity diverge: if you want to achieve peace of mind and happiness, have faith, but if you want to be a disciple of truth, then investigate'. Believing would be opposed to seeking. From this point onwards, Nietzsche developed his criticism of Christianity for diminishing the significance of human existence, robbing life of novelty and adventure. Faith would then be like an illusion of light that prevents our journey as free men towards tomorrow.

3. In this process, faith ended up being associated with darkness. It was thought that it could be preserved, that a space could be found for it to coexist with the light of reason. The space for faith opened up where reason could not illuminate, where man could no longer have certainties. Faith was then understood as a leap into the void that we take for lack of light, driven by a blind feeling; or as a subjective light, perhaps capable of warming the heart, of bringing private consolation, but which cannot be offered to others as an objective and common light to illuminate the path. Little by little, however, it became clear that the light of autonomous reason cannot sufficiently illuminate the future; in the end, it remains in darkness and leaves man in fear of the unknown. And so man has given up the search for a great light, for a great truth, to be content with the small lights that illuminate the brief moment, but are incapable of opening the way. When light is lacking, everything becomes confused; it is impossible to distinguish good from evil, the road that leads to the goal from the one that makes us walk in repetitive circles, without direction.

A light to be rediscovered

4. It is therefore urgent to recover the character of light proper to faith, because when its flame is extinguished, all other lights also lose their vigour. The light of faith has a unique character, being capable of illuminating the whole of human existence. For a light to be so powerful, it cannot come from ourselves; it must come from a more original source, it must come, ultimately, from God. Faith is born in the encounter with the living God, who calls us and reveals his love to us, a love that precedes us and on which we can rely to be steadfast and build our lives. Transformed by this love, we receive new eyes, we experience that in it there is a great promise of fulfilment, and the future opens up before us. Faith, which we receive from God as a supernatural gift, appears as a light on the road, a light that guides our journey through time. On the one hand, it comes from the past; it is the light of a founding memory, that of the life of Jesus, where his fully trustworthy love, capable of overcoming death, was manifested. At the same time, however, since Christ is risen and draws us beyond death, faith is a light that comes from the future, opening up great horizons before us and leading us beyond our isolated 'I' towards the breadth of communion. We understand then that faith does not dwell in darkness; that it is a light for our darkness. Dante, in the Divine Comedy, after confessing his faith before St Peter, describes it as a "spark, / which expands into a lively flame / and sparkles in me like a star in the sky". It is precisely this light of faith that I would like to speak about, so that it may grow to illuminate the present and become a star that shows us the horizons of our journey, at a time when humanity is particularly in need of light.

(Lumen Fidei)

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

In this Sunday’s Gospel the Lord Jesus tells his disciples: “You are the salt of the earth.... You are the light of the world” (Mt 5:13,14). With these richly evocative images he wishes to pass on to them the meaning of their mission and their witness.

Salt, in the cultures of the Middle East, calls to mind several values such as the Covenant, solidarity, life and wisdom. Light is the first work of God the Creator and is a source of life; the word of God is compared to light, as the Psalmist proclaims: “Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path” (Ps 119[118]:105).

And, again in today’s Liturgy, the Prophet Isaiah says: “If you pour yourself out for the hungry and satisfy the desire of the afflicted, then shall your light rise in the darkness and your gloom be as the noonday” (58:10). 

Wisdom sums up in itself the beneficial effects of salt and light: in fact, disciples of the Lord are called to give a new “taste” to the world and to keep it from corruption with the wisdom of God, which shines out in its full splendour on the Face of the Son because he is “the true light that enlightens every man” (Jn 1:9). 

United to him, in the darkness of indifference and selfishness, Christians can diffuse the light of God’s love, true wisdom that gives meaning to human life and action, in the midst of the darkness of indifference and selfishness.

[Pope Francis, Angelus, 6 February 2011]