Once again we find ourselves in the Synagogue of Nazareth, the village where Jesus grew up, where every knew him and his family. Then, after a period of absence, he returned there in a new way: during the Sabbath liturgy he read a prophecy on the Messiah by Isaiah and announced its fulfilment, making it clear that this word referred to him, that Isaiah had spoken about him. The event puzzled the Nazarenes: on the one hand they “all spoke well of him and wondered at the gracious words which proceeded out of his mouth” (Lk 4:22).

St Mark reported what many were saying: “Where did this man get all this? What is the wisdom given to him?” (6:2). On the other hand, however, his fellow villagers knew him too well: “He is one like us”, they say, “His claim can only be a presumption (cf. The Infancy Narratives, English edition, p. 3). “Is not this Joseph’s son?” (Lk 4:22), as if to say “what can a carpenter from Nazareth aspire to?”.

Well-acquainted with this imperviousness which confirms the proverb: “no prophet is acceptable in his own country”, to the people in the synagogue Jesus addressed words that resonate like a provocation. He cited two miracles wrought by the great prophets Elijah and Elisha for men who were not Israelites in order to demonstrate that faith is sometimes stronger outside Israel. At this point there was a unanimous reaction. All the people got to their feet and drove him away; and they even tried to push him off a precipice. However, passing through the midst of the angry mob with supreme calmness he went away. At this point it comes naturally to wonder: why ever did Jesus want to stir up this antagonism? At the outset the people admired him and he might perhaps have been able to obtain a certain consensus.... But this is exactly the point: Jesus did not come to seek the agreement of men and women but rather — as he was to say to Pilate in the end — “to bear witness to the truth” (Jn 18:37). The true prophet does not obey others as he does God, and puts himself at the service of the truth, ready to pay in person. It is true that Jesus was a prophet of love, but love has a truth of its own. Indeed, love and truth are two names of the same reality, two names of God.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 3 February 2013]

7. In his activity as a teacher, which began in Nazareth and extended to Galilee and Judea up to the capital, Jerusalem, Jesus knows how to grasp and make the most of the abundant fruits present in the religious tradition of Israel. He penetrates it with new intelligence, brings out its vital values, and highlights its prophetic perspectives. He does not hesitate to denounce men's deviations from the designs of the God of the covenant.

In this way he works, within the one and the same divine revelation, the passage from the "old" to the "new", without abolishing the Law, but instead bringing it to its full fulfilment (cf. Mt 5:17). This is the thought with which the Letter to the Hebrews opens: "God, who had already spoken in ancient times many times and in various ways to the fathers through the prophets, has lately, in these days, spoken to us through his Son . . ." (Heb 1:1).

8. This transition from the 'old' to the 'new' characterises the entire teaching of the 'Prophet' of Nazareth. A particularly clear example is the Sermon on the Mount in the Gospel of Matthew. Jesus says: "You have heard that it was said to the ancients: Do not kill . . . But I say unto you, whosoever is angry with his brother shall be brought into judgment' (Matthew 5: 21-22). "You have heard that it was said, Do not commit adultery; but I say to you, whoever looks at a woman to lust after her has already committed adultery with her in his heart" (Mt 5:27-28). "You have heard that it was said, 'You shall love your neighbour and hate your enemy; but I say to you, love your enemies and pray for your persecutors . . ." (Mt 5:43-44).

Teaching in this way, Jesus at the same time declares: "Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish, but to fulfil" (cf. Mt 5:17).

9. This "fulfilment" is a key-word that refers not only to the teaching of the truth revealed by God, but also to the whole history of Israel, that is, of the people whose son Jesus is. This extraordinary history, guided from the beginning by the powerful hand of the God of the covenant, finds its fulfilment in Jesus. The plan that the God of the covenant had inscribed in this history from the beginning, making it the history of salvation, tended towards the "fullness of time" (Gal 4:4), which is fulfilled in Jesus Christ. The Prophet of Nazareth does not hesitate to speak of this from his very first speech in the synagogue of his city.

10. Particularly eloquent are the words of Jesus reported in the Gospel of John when he says to his opponents: "Abraham, your father, rejoiced in the hope of seeing my day . . .", and in the face of their disbelief: "Are you not yet fifty years old and have you seen Abraham?", Jesus confirms even more explicitly: "Verily, verily, I say unto you, before Abraham was, I am" (John 8: 56-58). It is evident that Jesus affirms, not only that he is the fulfilment of God's salvific designs, inscribed in Israel's history since Abraham's time, but that his existence precedes Abraham's time, to the point of identifying himself as "he who is" (Ex 3:14). But for this very reason he, Jesus Christ, is the fulfilment of Israel's history, because he "surpasses" this history with his mystery.

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 4 February 1987]

Gospel [...] tells us about the disbelief of Jesus’s fellow villagers. After preaching in other villages in Galilee, Jesus returned to Nazareth where he had grown up with Mary and Joseph; and, one sabbath, he began to teach in the synagogue. Many who were listening asked themselves: “Where does he get all this wisdom? But, isn’t he the son of the carpenter and Mary, that is, of our neighbours that we know so well?” (cf. vv. 1-3). Confronted with this reaction, Jesus confirms the truth that had even become a part of popular wisdom: “A prophet is not without honour, except in his own country, and among his own kin, and in his own house” (v. 4). We say this many times…

Let us reflect on the attitude of Jesus’s fellow villagers. We could say they knew Jesus, but they did not recognise him. There is a difference between knowing and recognizing. In essence, this difference makes us understand that we can know various things about a person, form an idea, rely on what others say about that person, we might perhaps meet that person every now and then in the neighbourhood; but all that is not enough. This is a knowledge, I would say ordinary, superficial, that does not recognise the uniqueness of the person. We all run this risk: we think we know so much about a person, even worse, we use labels and close the person within our own prejudices. Jesus’s fellow villagers knew him for thirty years in the same way and they thought they knew everything! “But isn’t this the boy we saw growing up, the son of the carpenter and Mary? Where do these things come from?”. The distrust…in reality, they never realised who Jesus truly was. They remained at the exterior level and refused what was new about Jesus.

And here, we enter into the true crux of the problem: 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. Instead, brothers and sisters, God incarnated Himself: God is humble, God is tender, God is hidden, he draws near to us, living the normality of our daily life.

And then, the same thing happens to us like Jesus’s fellow villagers, we risk that when he passes by, we will not recognize him. I repeat that beautiful phrase from Saint Augustine: “I am afraid of God, of the Lord, when he passes by”. But, Augustine, why are you afraid? “I am afraid of not recognising him. I am afraid that when the Lord passes by: Timeo Dominum transeuntem. We do not recognize him, we are scandalised by Him, we think with our hearts about this reality.

Now, in prayer, let us ask the Madonna, who welcomed the mystery of God in her daily life in Nazareth, for eyes and hearts free of prejudices and to have eyes open to be amazed: “Lord that we might meet you!”, and when we encounter the Lord there is this amazement. We meet him in the normal: eyes open to God’s surprises, at His humble and hidden presence in daily life.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 4 July 2021]

Being himself and be different. Neighborhood road

(Lk 14:1.7-14)

The Bible often presents Salvation under the image of a banquet in which God himself participates alongside man.

At the table of a "righteous" one did not sit immediately arriving: you had to stick to a strict label - because of class hierarchies absolutely to be respected.

At the center the persons of regard, then the owner; then all the others, but in order: according to social position, religious function, possessed wealth.

Clumsiness and complacency of vanity, the Lord evaluates them. Smoke volutes, strident especially in the case of the Eucharistic Banquet [v.1: «eating bread»; v.8: «wedding feast»].

And the way in which Jesus speaks at the Table is surprising: He imposes himself, reproaches, suggests.

Finally He begins to blame the one who "invited" him [vv.12-14: «this is not how you have to choose the guests...»]. The effect is lashing.

Yet his is not a lesson in etiquette, nor an exhortation to common sense; much less of opportunism.

During the breaking of the Bread, Christ is not an occasional guest, but the amphitryon, the master of the House [here already worried about the possible failure of his proposal].

The banquet of Lk 14 is precisely setting for the sacred Banquet in which everyone is simple summoned - by vocation (not by merit). In fact, the recurring term is what some texts palely translate with "invited" while the Greek ‘kalèo’ means ‘[I] call': the «called».

Here it is necessary that notables and bystanders who willingly participate to show off immediately repent.

Not only must they stay away from grabbing, but they must also keep away from pathetic rush to occupy strategic positions.

With the image of the Eucharistic Banquet, Lk presents the world of relationships as God imagined it - reign where the Creator has «called» all his sons.

"Norm" between family members is not appropriation, nor some catwalk that inflates (only some) of self-respect.

Broken Bread regulates behavior in the sense of Gratuitousness.

It’s Food of life not degrading, but humanizing: mutual recognition, dialogue, love, shared knowledge...

Food for a non-fierce life - despite the criteria of the ancient world may tend to infiltrate again.

Desire to accumulate and get noticed leads out of the logic of the unconditional invitation.

Arrogant pace of the primactors who sit on the throne to overcome and stand out - to be served first, better and with more abundance than the others - will soon be unmasked and overturned (vv.9-11).

With the drafting of the Gospel of Lk (mid-80’s) we are already in a time where disagreements explode over issues of precedence!

Problem perhaps unchanged, that in fact it’s not resolved by moving back two or three places (vv.8-9) but reversing the scale of nomenklature (vv.10-11).

In short, the assembly of sons helps everyone to converge; it cannot be  accomplice of those who transform the world into exteriority, position and business.

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

In the transformation of one’s own goods into encounter, relationship and life of others, the source of joy, of the completeness of being, springs up: different happiness; anticipation of Resurrection.

Divine life not behind the clouds or at the end of history, but even now. Because the sin’s condition doesn’t cancel the plan of salvation.

In this way, different faces and circumstances become sacraments of Grace, Love so open that no human narrowness could annihilate.

Then being yourself and being different will be path of closeness, able to raise people and dilate-motivate relationships.

[22nd Sunday in O.T. (year C)  August 31, 2025]

Lk 14:1,7-14 (1-14)

Being oneself and being different. The path of closeness

The end of a sacred order: crammed together - or free

(Lk 14:1-6)

The Bible often presents salvation as a banquet in which God himself participates alongside man.

Here, specific reference is made to the assembly of those called to break bread ("to eat bread": v. 1 Greek text) - a scene still dominated by traditionalists (Judaizers).

On the surface, everything appears calm. All the more reason for the Lord (who is very mischievous) to throw a stone and shake things up.

Where He makes His presence felt - even in places dedicated to the peaceful celebration of the Sacraments - nothing remains as it was before.

His frankness is still astonishing and unsettles all quietism.

It is strange that a man with dropsy should have entered the house of a Pharisee, but it is significant in the sense of the Gospel message.

In the home of the old-fashioned leader, the human guests are stuffed with vague spiritual platitudes, not with a bright and living faith.

It is difficult to move there.

In the assembly (coincidentally), someone cannot stand up; he is full of things that must be eliminated as soon as possible - or he will not make it.

But it is only Jesus' question that immediately cleanses the useless excesses inoculated drop by drop by false guides into the unfortunate.

Inside the well in verse 5, it is as if not a donkey or an ox has fallen, but a brother or a son. In short: the excuses of ancient religious legalism do not even touch the Father.

The leaders present do not know what to say: in reality, they have nothing to say (to anyone).

They do not even vaguely conceive of God's Will as Love that intervenes promptly, that involves itself in our vulnerabilities.

Pope Francis would say of them in his third encyclical: 'accustomed to turning their gaze away, passing by, ignoring situations' (Fratelli Tutti, n.64).

Instead, the Son - and anyone who makes him Present - takes humanity by the hand and heals its limitations.

But he does not do this to stick to it (as the leaders of the time would have done), but to make it lighter, able to breathe and not just compress itself: liberated, finally autonomous - capable of tracing a path on its own two feet (even if it turns out to be distant).

This is a ruthless brushstroke by Luke, which highlights the difference between empty 'teaching' - albeit in religious form - and the action of Faith (linked to concrete life: v. 3).

In choosing between the real good of the person and the reputation of the group (the ruling clique), Jesus has no doubt.

On the other hand, for the great devotees and leaders, giving credence, the prestige of the institution, the custom of doctrine, the great sophisticated ideas... are their whole life.

The Master still does not remain silent today, and ridicules the personal inconsistency of some teachers of theology... who, while maintaining appearances, feel exempt from everything in their private lives.

In fact, it is precisely the 'experts' who sometimes lack 'the taste for recognising the other [...] for being themselves and for being different' (FT, 217-218).

Theology of the Incarnation. The salt of life is not permanence: it is better to eliminate unnecessary burdens.

In our assemblies there are naive and practising believers, but they are not very aware, rather unprepared and misguided.

We could say: faithful considered as glasses to be filled, devotees destined to say yes sir and not express themselves: evaluated without any spiritual personality of note...

They are not welcomed as a gift, but rather neglected, cloaked in the thoughts, practices and goals of others. For some community leaders, they are just numbers.

Let us try to paraphrase John Paul II (Dives in Misericordia nos. 12-13) but with reference to the figure of the hydropic man.

There are souls - of every Christian denomination - who fear becoming victims of oppression and hide themselves.

They lack inner freedom, the possibility of expressing their vocational character, of expressing what they believe in.

They do not feel able to be guided by the voice of conscience, which intimately indicates the right path to follow.

For fear of retaliation or ridicule, or because of a lack of awareness, they prefer a peaceful existence in all areas of life.

Expressing themselves in a spontaneous, natural and healthy way could be uncomfortable - not in tune with the local programme of domestication.

Thus, while the manipulators tend to use them without scruples, the simple continue to place themselves in a subordinate position.

They do not even remotely imagine or are educated to consider themselves custodians of a precious and unique Pearl for the work of Salvation.

They undergo a daily torture that fills them with external ideas and observances that do not correspond to their soul and their right to truth and freedom.

In short, as the Gospel passage illustrates, the Church takes the educational risk and allows the meaning of Christ in action to shine through only when it brings unstable people closer to the sources of conscience and personal 'flesh'.

The transition from religious sense to a life of Faith brings with it the Easter leap of freedom.

To internalise and live the message:

How would you describe your transition from religiosity to faith?

Have you purified yourself of the inculcated trappings that weighed down your essential personality?

Have you freed yourself from the sophisticated thoughts that gloss over the 'flesh'?

Have you made the Paschal leap of freedom?

Head at the Eucharistic Table

End of strategic positions

The Bible often presents Salvation as a banquet in which God himself participates alongside man.

At the table of a 'righteous' person, one did not sit down immediately upon arrival: one had to adhere to a strict etiquette, due to class hierarchies that had to be respected.

At the centre were the people of importance, then the owner; then everyone else, but in order: according to social position, religious function, wealth possessed.

The Lord judges awkwardness and complacency. These are smoke and mirrors, particularly in the case of the Eucharistic Banquet [v.1: 'eating bread'; v.8: 'wedding feast'].

And the way Jesus speaks at the table is surprising: he imposes himself, rebukes, suggests.

Finally, he begins to take it out on the one who 'invited' him [vv. 12-14: 'this is not how you should choose your guests...']. The effect is scathing.

Yet his is not a lesson in etiquette, nor an exhortation to common sense, much less to opportunism.

During the breaking of the bread, Christ is not a casual guest, but the host, the master of the house [here already concerned about the possible failure of his proposal].

The banquet in Luke 14 is precisely the setting for the sacred banquet in which all are simply summoned - by vocation (not by merit). In fact, the recurring term is what the Italian text translates poorly as 'invited', while the Greek kalèo means 'I call': the 'called'.

Here, the notables and bystanders who willingly participate to show off must immediately repent.

Not only must they refrain from grabbing food, but also from pathetically crowding around to occupy strategic positions.

With the image of the Eucharistic Banquet, Luke presents the world of relationships as God imagined it - where the Creator has 'called' all his children.

The 'norm' among family members is not appropriation, nor is it some kind of catwalk that inflates (only some) with self-love.

The broken bread regulates behaviour in the sense of gratuitousness.

It is food for life that is not degrading but humanising: mutual recognition, dialogue, love, shared knowledge...

Food for a life that is not beastly - despite the fact that the criteria of the ancient world still tend to infiltrate.

Hoarding and the desire to be noticed lead away from the logic of unconditional invitation.

The arrogant behaviour of the leading actors who sit on thrones to tower over and show off - to be served first, better and more abundantly than others - will soon be unmasked and overturned (vv. 9-11).

With the writing of Luke's Gospel (mid-80s), we are already in a time when disagreements over questions of precedence are exploding!

This problem remains unchanged, and in fact is not resolved by moving back two or three places (vv. 8-9) but by overturning the hierarchy (vv. 10-11).

Love is in fact 'a never-ending adventure that brings all the peripheries together towards a full sense of belonging to one another'.

"Jesus told us: You are all brothers (Mt 23:8)" [Fratelli Tutti, n.95].

In short, the assembly of children helps everyone to converge; it cannot be complicit with those who transform the world into outward appearances, positions and business.

Eucharist, gratuitousness and strangers

(Lk 14:12-14)

Inviting the excluded, without self-interest: the Christian community is open to all, especially those who have nothing to offer in return.

It cannot be complicit with those who transform the world into a business.

And today we are finally learning to invite freely, not in a self-interested and mercantile way.

We are well aware that the web of calculation behind our actions is astonishing, almost as complex as the complicated circuits of an electronic computer.

Some even seek to sacralise it:

Before exposing ourselves in a work, we weigh up with incredible speed all the possible repercussions, the reactions that may be useful or harmful to our interests.

Even during the course of our social actions, we recalibrate every change that could produce the desired effect, and at the same time the hoped-for reward.

If this does not happen, we immediately imagine that there must have been a (mechanical) failure somewhere.

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

This also happens with God.

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

In the transformation of one's possessions into Encounter, Relationship, Intimate Life and the lives of others, the source of Joy springs forth.

The joy of the completeness of being, the very Life of the Trinity: a different kind of happiness, without due or expected returns; a foretaste of Resurrection.

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

No exchange is truly worth such boundless and real vertigo.

Thus, the type of participants in the breaking of bread in churches - today of increasingly diverse mentalities - describes the essence of God.

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

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

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

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

A multifaceted personal formation is also well reflected in the thousand unusual presences [as an intimate and concrete appeal]. And today it is finally considered an added value, rather than a carnal expression or impurity.

In short, our attitude as sisters and brothers imitates divine magnanimity: we welcome those who are different freely, not because we are or they are good, but so that we may all become good.

And by being close, together, in an unexpected, superabundant way.

To internalise and live the message:

What does not elevate your relationships? And your complete sense of self?

Dear Brothers and Sisters, 

In this Sunday's Gospel (Lk 14: 1, 7-14), we find Jesus as a guest dining at the house of a Pharisee leader. Noting that the guests were choosing the best places at table, he recounted a parable in the setting of a marriage feast. "When you are invited by any one to a marriage feast, do not sit down in a place of honour, lest a more eminent man than you be invited by him; and he who invited you both will come, and say to you, "Give place to this man'.... But when you are invited, go and sit in the lowest place" (Lk 14: 8-10). The Lord does not intend to give a lesson on etiquette or on the hierarchy of the different authorities. Rather, he insists on a crucial point, that of humility: "Every one who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted" (Lk 14: 11). A deeper meaning of this parable also makes us think of the position of the human being in relation to God. The "lowest place" can in fact represent the condition of humanity degraded by sin, a condition from which the Incarnation of the Only-Begotten Son alone can raise it. For this reason Christ himself "took the lowest place in the world the Cross and by this radical humility he redeemed us and constantly comes to our aid" (Encyclical Deus Caritas Est, n. 35). 

At the end of the parable Jesus suggests to the Pharisee leader that he invite to his table not his friends, kinsmen or rich neighbours, but rather poorer and more marginalized people who can in no way reciprocate (cf. Lk 14: 13-14), so that the gift may be given freely. The true reward, in fact, will ultimately be given by God, "who governs the world.... We offer him our service only to the extent that we can, and for as long as he grants us the strength" (Encyclical Deus Caritas Est, n. 35). Once again, therefore, let us look to Christ as a model of humility and of giving freely: let us learn from him patience in temptation, meekness in offence, obedience to God in suffering, in the hope that the One who has invited us will say to us: "Friend, go up higher" (cf. Lk 14: 10). Indeed, the true good is being close to him. St Louis IX, King of France whose Memorial was last Wednesday put into practice what is written in the Book of Sirach: "The greater you are, the more you must humble yourself; so you will find favour in the sight of the Lord" (3: 18). This is what the King wrote in his "Spiritual Testament to his son": "If the Lord grant you some prosperity, not only must you humbly thank him but take care not to become worse by boasting or in any other way, make sure, that is, that you do not come into conflict with God or offend him with his own gifts" (cf. Acta Sanctorum Augusti 5 [1868], 546).

[Pope Francis, Angelus, 29 August 2010]

5. It becomes more evident that love is transformed into mercy when it is necessary to go beyond the precise norm of justice-precise and often too narrow. The prodigal son, having wasted the property he received from his father, deserves - after his return - to earn his living by working in his father's house as a hired servant and possibly, little by little, to build up a certain provision of material goods, though perhaps never as much as the amount he had squandered. This would be demanded by the order of justice, especially as the son had not only squandered the part of the inheritance belonging to him but had also hurt and offended his father by his whole conduct. Since this conduct had in his own eyes deprived him of his dignity as a son, it could not be a matter of indifference to his father. It was bound to make him suffer. It was also bound to implicate him in some way. And yet, after all, it was his own son who was involved, and such a relationship could never be altered or destroyed by any sort of behavior. The prodigal son is aware of this and it is precisely this awareness that shows him clearly the dignity which he has lost and which makes him honestly evaluate the position that he could still expect in his father's house. 

6. Particular Concentration on Human Dignity 

This exact picture of the prodigal son's state of mind enables us to understand exactly what the mercy of God consists in. There is no doubt that in this simple but penetrating analogy the figure of the father reveals to us God as Father. The conduct of the father in the parable and his whole behavior, which manifests his internal attitude, enables us to rediscover the individual threads of the Old Testament vision of mercy in a synthesis which is totally new, full of simplicity and depth. The father of the prodigal son is faithful to his fatherhood, faithful to the love that he had always lavished on his son. This fidelity is expressed in the parable not only by his immediate readiness to welcome him home when he returns after having squandered his inheritance; it is expressed even more fully by that joy, that merrymaking for the squanderer after his return, merrymaking which is so generous that it provokes the opposition and hatred of the elder brother, who had never gone far away from his father and had never abandoned the home. 

The father's fidelity to himself - a trait already known by the Old Testament term hesed - is at the same time expressed in a manner particularly charged with affection. We read, in fact, that when the father saw the prodigal son returning home "he had compassion, ran to meet him, threw his arms around his neck and kissed him."64 He certainly does this under the influence of a deep affection, and this also explains his generosity towards his son, that generosity which so angers the elder son. Nevertheless, the causes of this emotion are to be sought at a deeper level. Notice, the father is aware that a fundamental good has been saved: the good of his son's humanity. Although the son has squandered the inheritance, nevertheless his humanity is saved. Indeed, it has been, in a way, found again. The father's words to the elder son reveal this: "It was fitting to make merry and be glad, for this your brother was dead and is alive; he was lost and is found."65 In the same chapter fifteen of Luke's Gospel, we read the parable of the sheep that was found66 and then the parable of the coin that was found.67 Each time there is an emphasis on the same joy that is present in the case of the prodigal son. The father's fidelity to himself is totally concentrated upon the humanity of the lost son, upon his dignity. This explains above all his joyous emotion at the moment of the son's return home. 

Going on, one can therefore say that the love for the son the love that springs from the very essence of fatherhood, in a way obliges the father to be concerned about his son's dignity. This concern is the measure of his love, the love of which Saint Paul was to write: "Love is patient and kind.. .love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful...but rejoices in the right...hopes all things, endures all things" and "love never ends."68 Mercy - as Christ has presented it in the parable of the prodigal son - has the interior form of the love that in the New Testament is called agape. This love is able to reach down to every prodigal son, to every human misery, and above all to every form of moral misery, to sin. When this happens, the person who is the object of mercy does not feel humiliated, but rather found again and "restored to value." The father first and foremost expresses to him his joy that he has been "found again" and that he has "returned to life. This joy indicates a good that has remained intact: even if he is a prodigal, a son does not cease to be truly his father's son; it also indicates a good that has been found again, which in the case of the prodigal son was his return to the truth about himself.

[Pope John Paul II, Dives in Misericordia]

This Sunday’s Gospel passage (cf. Lk 14:7-14) shows us Jesus participating in a feast in the house of one of the head Pharisees. Jesus watches and observes how the guests run, make haste to get the best seats. It is rather common behaviour in our time too, and not only when we are invited to lunch: one frequently seeks a place of honour in order to assert a presumed superiority over others. In reality this race to the forefront harms both civil and ecclesial communities because it destroys fraternity. We all know these people: social climbers who always clamber upwards in order to move up, up.... They harm fraternity, they damage fraternity. Faced with this scene, Jesus recounts two short parables.

The first parable is addressed to one who is invited to a feast and Jesus exhorts him not to “sit down in a place of honour, lest a more eminent man than you be invited by him; and he who invited you both will come, and say to you, ‘Please, move back, give place to this man’”. An embarrassment! And “then you will begin with shame to take the lowest place” (cf. vv. 8-9). Jesus instead teaches us to behave in the opposite way: “when you are invited, go and sit in the lowest place, so that when your host comes he may say to you, ‘Friend, go up higher’” (v. 10). Thus, we should not seek the attention and regard of others on our own initiative but, if anything, let others offer them to us. Jesus always shows us the way of humility — we must learn the way of humility! — because it is the most authentic way, which also allows one to enjoy authentic relationships. True humility, not false humility, the kind they call in Piedmont, mugna quacia. No, not that kind. True humility.

In the second parable, Jesus addresses the one who invites and, referring to the method of selecting guests, says to him: “when you give a feast, invite the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you” (vv. 13-14). Here too, Jesus goes completely against the tide, manifesting as always, the logic of God the Father. And he also adds the key by which to interpret this discourse of his. And what is the key? A promise: if you do this, you “will be repaid at the resurrection of the just” (v. 14). This means that those who behave in this way will receive divine compensation, far superior to human repayment: I do this favour for you expecting you to do one for me. No, this is not Christian. Humble generosity is Christian. Indeed, human repayment usually distorts relationships, making them “commercial” by bringing personal interest into a relationship that should be generous and free. Instead, Jesus encourages selfless generosity, to pave our way toward a much greater joy, the joy of partaking in the very love of God who awaits us, all of us, at the heavenly banquet.

May the Virgin Mary, “humble beyond all creatures and more exalted” (Dante, Paradiso, xxxiii, 2), help us to recognize ourselves as we are, that is, small; and to give joyfully, without repayment.

[Pope Francis, Angelus, 1 September 2019]

Talents - Gifts of the new Kingdom

(Mt 25:14-30)

Matthew narrates this parable because some converted Jews of his communities have difficulty unlocking and evolving.

A competition arises between them that concerns the importance of ecclesial positions. It’s the true evangelical sense of «talents according to capacity» (v.15).

We all receive some accent of the Kingdom, "goods" to be multiplied by transmitting; for example, the Word of God.

Unique gift, but not uncommon: immense prosperity with extraordinary life-propulsive virtues... for each and every one.

Thus the spirit of service and sharing; the attitude to discernment and appreciation of unrepeatable uniquenesses, and much more.

The very idea of the ancient God as lawgiver and judge (vv.24-25) induced believers not to grow or transmit - rather to shut themselves up and move away from the Father’s plan.

The Lord strongly reiterates that a deformed idea of ‘Heaven at points’ can negatively affect the bearing lines of personality, and ruin people’s existence.

Even in later history this happened, when the naive masses were “educated” to perceive Freedom as guilt and the risk of Love a danger of sin.

Instead, the Lord wants to create Family, where no one is alarmed or held in check, nor blocked and potted.

Even the little that everyone has in dowry can be invested - through a contribution to be made, available to all.

This is what happens in the community that values us: the ministerial Church [«bank» of v.27] that projects and infinitely expands the resources, the broken Bread, the "goods" of the Kingdom of God.

What promotes people and reveals God’s Presence is personal and unique, yet it must not remain as rare.

Everyone has an opportunity for apostolate, his particular friendship’s attitude, and his skills... they are territories and energies to be explored without limits, so that they are shared, made wiser and propulsive.

In this way, anyone who keeps up to date, engages with others, takes an interest and adds something sees the human and spiritual wealth grow and flourish.

In this way, whoever updates himself, confronts himself, is interested and makes a contribution, sees his own human and spiritual wealth grow and flourish.

Conversely, no one will be surprised that the rearguard or abstract and disembodied situations undergo further declines - finally they perish without leaving regrets (vv.27-30).

In these catecheses of chapter 25, the evangelist Mt tries to make his communities understand and help, remembering that Jesus himself was not under escort, but an involved, willing figure.

He did not want to limit himself to fighting for an appreciable and necessary legal change - but still staying at a safe distance.

In fact, he acted in a laborious, «crafted» way (FT n.217); without placing anything in safe [out of fear].

He was not limited to easy contrasts and grand ex cathedra proclamations, which would not have affected anything.

Did he have alternatives?

Of course: do not move anything, do not guard the minimums, do not protect them, limit himself, keep his mouth closed or open it only to flatter the powerful, the established and well-introduced.

Giving up fighting and neglecting to take winding routes, he would have no problems.

But also for us: the downside and safe game atrophies personal and social life, does not grow a new Kingdom - it loses it.

[Saturday 21st wk. in O.T.   August 30, 2025]

Talents - Gifts of the new Kingdom

(Mt 25:14-30)

How can a community reveal the presence of God? By enhancing and accentuating the facets of life, defending them, promoting them and cheering them up.

Why is it that some grow and others do not? Why is it that those who advance less than others, precisely on the 'religious' path, risk ruin?

We all have unique strengths, bullets, qualities and inclinations. Everyone receives gifts as an outrider (even if only one) and can fit into church services.

Everyone - even the normally excluded [like Zacchaeus, in the parallel passage in Lk 19:1-10.11-28] - has a wealth of unparalleled resources that he or she can pass on, for the enrichment of the community.

Mt tells this parable because some Jewish converts in his communities find it difficult to unlock and evolve. And some just do not flourish, clinging to roles and devotions.

To put it plainly, a competition arises among them concerning the importance of ecclesial assignments [this is the true evangelical meaning of "talents according to ability": v.15].

These tasks are also undermined by the onslaught of those coming from paganism, who are less intimidated and looser than the (somewhat museum-like) Judaizing faithful.

The resulting punctiliousness stiffens the internal atmosphere, accentuates difficulties in collaborating, and exchanging gifts and resources - enriching one another.

Vain and competitive situations we know.

We all receive some accent of the Kingdom, 'goods' to be multiplied by passing on, for example (here) the Word of God.

A unique gift, but not rare: immense prosperity and extraordinary life-promoting virtues... for each and all.

Thus the spirit of service and sharing; the aptitude for discernment and appreciation of unique uniqueness, and much more.

Of course, the community grows not if it produces, showcases and 'yields'. It is made up of members who are all valuable and already 'adults', who spontaneously know where and how to place themselves!

Women and men of Faith do not seek merits, they do not hold back for themselves; they relate to God and their neighbour wisely, even when not in 'correct' terms and formulas (according to the instruction booklet).

Unfortunately, in order to persuade them to respect characters and configuration, and to follow custom, veterans have not infrequently played on fear.

With regard to 'social' fear, in particular, on the popular inclination not to get into trouble (which also paralysed the inner life).

Since the time of Jesus, there has been no lack of fear and the desire to avoid blackmail [my mother used to say in amazement of dishonest leaders: "They use religion as a weapon!"].

The very idea of the ancient God as lawgiver and judge (vv.24-25) induced believers not to grow or pass on, but rather to shut themselves away and distance themselves from the Father's project.

On pain of social exclusion, it was forbidden to welcome new experiences of God, to authentically encounter oneself, to open up personal (even radically identity) spaces, to chart new paths.

Thus for centuries.

To understand the meaning of the parallel passage of Lk 19:11-28 [v.22 where in the CEI translation the King would seem to reiterate the mean idea of the uneducated launderer], it is enough to insert a question mark [the original Greek codes had no punctuation]:

"He says to him: From your own mouth I judge you, wicked servant! Did you know that I am a severe man, that I take what I have not laid down and that I reap what I have not sown?"

The same in Mt 25:26:

"But answering his Lord said to him, 'Wicked and idle servant [...] Did you know that I reap where I have not sown and I gather where I have not scattered?"

As if to say: "But who taught you that!".

The Lord emphatically reiterates that that deformed concept of the doting Heavens can negatively affect the character lines, and ruin people's existence. Especially if Freedom and the risk of Love are perceived as a guilt - in any case a danger of sin that could lead to the deleterious spiritual state of no longer being considered (by traditional religiosity) 'in the grace of God'.

Ancient religions needed followers who were also immature and obtuse, without nerve - who were then content to avoid danger, and clung to the petty securities of the everyday grind.

Instead, the Father desires expanded hearts, which undertake and risk for love, and for love's sake.

If the God of popular piety needs flocks that are sometimes obtuse and servile, Christ needs friends, family members and reckless collaborators, capable of walking on their own legs, who do not dehumanise (others too).

Thus, today, the pastoral of consent [I will give you what you want] presupposes obedient and devout masses, deprived of personality and dreams.

Instead, the Lord wants Family, where no one is alarmed, restrained, blocked, put in the hole. Perhaps for fear of losing the family tranquillity, the little place he has, the fake security he has carved out or taken as alms.

Pope Francis, for example, does not want conquests to frighten us and hold us back, but that as consanguineers of our eternal side, we should be the first to vibrate with prophetic ideals. And ramming through false convictions that do not disturb - indeed, they put us into lethargy - to stimulate more grandiose ideal areas in terms of humanising qualities.

Even the little that each person has in dowry can be invested - through a contribution to be made, available to all.

This is what happens in the community that enhances us: the ministerial Church ["bank" of v.27] that projects and infinitely expands the resources, the broken Bread, the "goods" of the Kingdom of God.

That which promotes people and reveals the Presence of God is personal and unique, yet it must not remain as rare.

Everyone has an opportunity for apostolate, his or her own attitude of friendship and skills... these are territories and energies to be explored without limits, so that they may be shared, made sapiential and propulsive.

As the Pontiff declared:

"The inability of experts to see the signs of the times is due to the fact that they are closed within their system; they know what can and cannot be done, and they stay safe there. Let us ask ourselves: am I only open to my own things and my own ideas, or am I open to the God of surprises?"

Anyone who updates, confronts, takes an interest and makes a contribution - without getting overwhelmed by routine, fear, fatigue - sees their human and spiritual richness grow and flourish.

Conversely, no one will be surprised that rearguard or abstract and disembodied situations - exhausting, though in themselves sluggish, exhausted, spineless and merely boring or fanciful - suffer further downturns and finally perish without leaving regrets (vv.27-30).

In these catecheses of chapter 25, the evangelist Mt tries to make his communities understand, help and act as a springboard, remembering that Jesus himself was not under escort, but an involved, willing figure.

He did not let matters slide, but entered into them - nor did he say: what am I doing here?

Nor did he merely fight for a welcome and necessary legal change - but stood at a safe distance.

Instead, he embodied the gift of self, tracing the path of social choice in the first person, with an arduousness to undertake it; without placing anything in the safe, out of fear.

Paraphrasing the encyclical Fratelli Tutti (No. 262) we would say: he knew that not even norms were sufficient 'if one thinks that the solution to problems consists in dissuading through fear'.

The Lord in fact frequented the out-of-touch and in-between figures; he kept away from envious and smelly circles. He acted in a hard-working, "artisanal" (FT n.217) manner and put his face to it; he did not preach to others ex cathedra.

Did he have alternatives?

Certainly: not to move, not to guard the least, to limit oneself, to keep one's mouth shut; possibly to open it, but only to flatter the powerful, the established and well-connected.

By giving up the struggle and taking tortuous paths, he would have no problems.

And if he had added omertà to the common mediocrity of the spiritual leaders of the time, he might well have had a career.

But for us too: playing it down and safe atrophies personal and social life, does not grow a new kingdom - it loses it.

In everyone, something equal and unequal

The Gospel [...] is the parable of the talents, taken from St Matthew (25:14-30). It tells of a man who, before setting out on a journey, summons servants and entrusts them with his wealth in talents, ancient coins of great value. That master entrusts the first servant with five talents, the second with two, and the third with one. During the master's absence, the three servants must make use of this patrimony. The first and second servants each double the starting capital; the third, however, for fear of losing everything, buries the talent received in a hole. On the master's return, the first two receive praise and reward, while the third, who only returns the coin received, is reprimanded and punished.

The significance of this is clear. The man in the parable represents Jesus, the servants are us, and the talents are the heritage that the Lord entrusts to us. What is the heritage? His Word, the Eucharist, faith in the heavenly Father, His forgiveness... in short, so many things, His most precious possessions. This is the patrimony that He entrusts to us. Not only to be guarded, but to grow! While in common usage the term 'talent' indicates a distinct individual quality - e.g. talent in music, sport, etc. - in the parable the talents represent the Lord's goods, which He entrusts to us so that we may make them bear fruit. The hole dug in the ground by the "wicked and slothful servant" (v. 26) indicates the fear of risk that blocks the creativity and fruitfulness of love. For fear of the risks of love blocks us. Jesus does not ask us to keep his grace in a safe! Jesus does not ask this of us, but he wants us to use it for the benefit of others. All the goods we have received are to give them to others, and so they grow. It is as if he were saying to us: 'Here is my mercy, my tenderness, my forgiveness: take them and make good use of them'. And what have we done with them? Who have we 'infected' with our faith? How many people have we encouraged with our hope? How much love have we shared with our neighbour? These are questions it is good for us to ask ourselves. Any environment, even the most distant and impractical, can become a place where talents can bear fruit. There are no situations or places precluded to Christian presence and witness. The witness that Jesus asks of us is not closed, it is open, it depends on us.

This parable spurs us not to hide our faith and our belonging to Christ, not to bury the Word of the Gospel, but to circulate it in our lives, in relationships, in concrete situations, as a force that challenges, that purifies, that renews. The same goes for forgiveness, which the Lord gives us especially in the Sacrament of Reconciliation: let us not keep it closed within ourselves, but let us allow it to unleash its power, let it bring down walls that our selfishness has put up, let it make us take the first step in blocked relationships, resume dialogue where there is no more communication... And so on. Let these talents, these gifts that the Lord has given us, come to others, grow, bear fruit, with our witness.

I think it would be a nice gesture today for each of you to take the Gospel home, the Gospel of St Matthew, chapter 25, verses 14 to 30, Matthew 25: 14-30, and read this, and meditate a little: 'The talents, the riches, all that God has given me of spiritual, of goodness, the Word of God, how do I make them grow in others? Or do I just keep them in a safe?"

And furthermore, the Lord does not give everyone the same things and in the same way: he knows us personally and entrusts to us what is right for us; but in everyone there is something equal: the same, immense trust. God trusts us, God has hope in us! And this is the same for everyone. Let us not disappoint Him! Let us not be deceived by fear, but let us trust with confidence! The Virgin Mary embodies this attitude in the most beautiful and fullest way. She received and accepted the most sublime gift, Jesus himself, and in turn offered him to humanity with a generous heart. We ask her to help us to be "good and faithful servants", to participate "in the joy of our Lord".

(Pope Francis, Angelus 16 November 2014)