"Cooperating in the coming of the Kingdom of God in the world" (Mt 13:31-33)

All are called to build God's kingdom

1. In this Great Jubilee year, the basic theme of our catecheses has been the glory of the Trinity as revealed to us in salvation history. We have reflected on the Eucharist, the greatest celebration of Christ under the humble signs of bread and wine. Now we want to devote several catecheses to what we must do to ensure that the glory of the Trinity shines forth more fully in the world.

Our reflection begins with Mark's Gospel, where we read:  "Jesus came into Galilee, preaching the gospel of God and saying, "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel'" (Mk 1: 14-15). These are the first words Jesus spoke to the crowd:  they contain the heart of his Gospel of hope and salvation, the proclamation of God's kingdom. From that moment on, as the Evangelists note, Jesus "went about all Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and preaching the gospel of the kingdom and healing every disease and every infirmity among the people" (Mt 4: 23; cf. Lk 8: 1). The Apostles followed in his footsteps and with them Paul, the Apostle to the Gentiles, called to "preach the kingdom of God" among the nations even to the capital of the Roman Empire (cf. Acts 20: 25; 28: 23, 31).

2. The Gospel of the kingdom links Christ with the Sacred Scriptures that, using a royal image, celebrate God's lordship over the cosmos and history. Thus we read in the Psalter:  "Say among the nations, "The Lord reigns! Yea, the world is established, it shall never be moved; he will judge the peoples'" (Ps 96: 10). The kingdom is thus God's effective but mysterious action in the universe and in the tangle of human events. He overcomes the resistance of evil with patience, not with arrogance and outcry.

For this reason Jesus compares the kingdom of God to a mustard seed, the smallest of all seeds, but destined to become a leafy tree (cf. Mt 13: 31-32), or to the seed a man scatters on the ground:  "he sleeps and rises night and day, and the seed sprouts and grows, he knows not how" (Mk 4: 27). The kingdom is grace, God's love for the world, the source of our serenity and trust:  "Fear not, little flock", Jesus says, "for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom" (Lk 12: 32). Fears, worries and nightmares fade away, because in the person of Christ the kingdom of God is in our midst (cf. Lk 17: 21).

3. But man is not a passive witness to God's entrance into history. Jesus asks us "to seek" actively "the kingdom of God and his righteousness" and to make this search our primary concern (Mt 6& ;33). To those who "supposed that the kingdom of God was to appear immediately" (Lk 19: 11), he prescribed an active attitude instead of passive waiting, telling them the parable of the 10 pounds to be used productively (cf. Lk 19: 12-27). For his part, the Apostle Paul states that "the kingdom of God does not mean food and drink but righteousness" (Rom 14: 17) above all, and urges the faithul to put their members at the service of righteousness for sanctification (cf. Rom 6: 13, 19).

The human person is thus called to work with his hands, mind and heart for the coming of God's kingdom into the world. This is especially true of those who are called to the apostolate and are, as St Paul says, "fellow workers for the kingdom of God" (Col 4: 11), but it is also true of every human person.

4. Those who have chosen the way of the Gospel Beatitudes and live as "the poor in spirit", detached from material goods, in order to raise up the lowly of the earth from the dust of their humiliation, will enter the kingdom of God. "Has not God chosen those who are poor in the world", James asks in his Letter, "to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom which he has promised to those who love him?" (Jas 2: 5). Those who lovingly bear the sufferings of life will enter the kingdom:  "Through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God" (Acts 14: 22; cf. 2 Thes1: 4-5), where God himself "will wipe away every tear ... and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain anymore" (Rv 21: 4). The pure of heart who choose the way of righteousness, that is, conformity to the will of God, will enter the kingdom, as St Paul warns:  "Do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived; neither the immoral, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, ... nor the greedy, nor drunkards, nor revilers nor robbers will inherit the kingdom of God" (1 Cor 6: 9-10; cf. 15: 50; Eph 5: 5).

5. All the just of the earth, including those who do not know Christ and his Church, who, under the influence of grace, seek God with a sincere heart (cf. Lumen gentium, n. 16), are thus called to build the kingdom of God by working with the Lord, who is its first and decisive builder. Therefore, we must entrust ourselves to his hands, to his Word, to his guidance, like inexperienced children who find security only in the Father:  "Whoever does not accept the kingdom of God like a child", Jesus said, "shall not enter it" (Lk 18: 17).

With this thought we must make our own the petition:  "Thy kingdom come!". A petition which has risen to heaven many times in human history like a great breath of hope:  "May the peace of your kingdom come to us", Dante exclaimed in his paraphrase of the Our Father (Purgatorio, XI, 7). A petition which turns our gaze to Christ's return and nourishes the desire for the final coming of God's kingdom. This desire however does not distract the Church from her mission in this world, but commits her to it more strongly (cf. CCC, n. 2818), in waiting to be able to cross the threshold of the kingdom, whose seed and beginning is the Church (cf. Lumen gentium, n. 5), when it comes to the world in its fullness. Then, Peter assures us in his Second Letter, "there will be richly provided for you an entrance into the eternal kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ" (2 Pt 1: 11).

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 6 December 2000]

“Jesus began to preach” (Mt 4:17). With these words, the evangelist Matthew introduces the ministry of Jesus. The One who is the Word of God has come to speak with us, in his own words and by his own life. On this first Sunday of the Word of God, let us go to the roots of his preaching, to the very source of the word of life. Today’s Gospel (Mt 4:12-23) helps us to know how, where and to whom Jesus began to preach.

1. How did he begin? With a very simple phrase: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand” (v. 17). This is the main message of all Jesus’ sermons: to tell us that the kingdom of heaven is at hand. What does this mean? The kingdom of heaven means the reign of God, that is, the way in which God reigns through his relationship with us. Jesus tells us that the kingdom of heaven is at hand, that God is near. Here is the novelty, the first message: God is not far from us. The One who dwells in heaven has come down to earth; he became man. He has torn down walls and shortened distances. We ourselves did not deserve this: he came down to meet us. Now this nearness of God to his people is one of the ways he has done things since the beginning, even of the Old Testament. He said to his people: “Imagine: what nation has its gods so near to it as I am near to you?” (cf. Dt 4:7). And this nearness became flesh in Jesus. 

This is a joyful message: God came to visit us in person, by becoming man. He did not embrace our human condition out of duty, no, but out of love. For love, he took on our human nature, for one embraces what one loves. God took our human nature because he loves us and desires freely to give us the salvation that, alone and unaided, we cannot hope to attain. He wants to stay with us and give us the beauty of life, peace of heart, the joy of being forgiven and feeling loved.

We can now understand the direct demand that Jesus makes: “Repent”, in other words, “Change your life”. Change your life, for a new way of living has begun. The time when you lived for yourself is over; now is the time for living with and for God, with and for others, with and for love. Today Jesus speaks those same words to you: “Take heart, I am here with you, allow me to enter and your life will change”. Jesus knocks at the door. That is why the Lord gives you his word, so that you can receive it like a love letter he has written to you, to help you realize that he is at your side. His word consoles and encourages us. At the same time it challenges us, frees us from the bondage of our selfishness and summons us to conversion. Because his word has the power to change our lives and to lead us out of darkness into the light. This is the power of his word. 

2. If we consider where Jesus started his preaching, we see that he began from the very places that were then thought to be “in darkness”. Both the first reading and the Gospel speak to us of people who “sat in the region and shadow of death”. They are the inhabitants of “the land of Zebulun and Naphtali, on the road by the sea, the land beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the nations” (Mt 4:15-16; cf. Is 8:23-9:1). Galilee of the nations, this region where Jesus began his preaching ministry, had been given this name because it was made up of people of different races and was home to a variety of peoples, languages and cultures. It was truly “on the road by the sea”, a crossroads. Fishermen, businessmen and foreigners all dwelt there. It was definitely not the place to find the religious purity of the chosen people. Yet Jesus started from there: not from the forecourt of the temple of Jerusalem, but from the opposite side of the country, from Galilee of the nations, from the border region. He started from a periphery. 

Here there is a message for us: the word of salvation does not go looking for untouched, clean and safe places. Instead, it enters the complex and obscure places in our lives. Now, as then, God wants to visit the very places we think he will never go. Yet how often we are the ones who close the door, preferring to keep our confusion, our dark side and our duplicity hidden. We keep it locked up within, approaching the Lord with some rote prayers, wary lest his truth stir our hearts. And this is concealed hypocrisy. But as today’s Gospel tells us: “Jesus went about all Galilee preaching the gospel of the kingdom and healing every disease and every infirmity” (v. 23). He passed through all of that varied and complex region. In the same way, he is not afraid to explore the terrain of our hearts and to enter the roughest and most difficult corners of our lives. He knows that his mercy alone can heal us, his presence alone can transform us and his word alone can renew us. So let us open the winding paths of our hearts – those paths we have inside us that we do not wish to see or that we hide – to him, who walked “the road by the sea”; let us welcome into our hearts his word, which is “living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword… and able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart” (Heb 4:12).

3. Finally, to whom did Jesus begin to speak? The Gospel says that, “as he walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon who is called Peter and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea; for they were fishermen. And he said to them, ‘Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men’” (Mt 4:18-19). The first people to be called were fishermen: not people carefully chosen for their abilities or devout people at prayer in the temple, but ordinary working people. 

Let us think about what Jesus said to them: I will make you fishers of men. He was speaking to fishermen, using the language they understood. Their lives changed on the spot. He called them where they were and as they were, in order to make them sharers in his mission. “Immediately they left their nets and followed him” (v. 20). Why immediately? Simply because they felt drawn. They did not hurry off because they had received an order, but because they were drawn by love. To follow Jesus, mere good works are not enough; we have to listen daily to his call. He, who alone knows us and who loves us fully, leads us to put out into the deep of life. Just as he did with the disciples who heard him.

That is why we need his word: so that we can hear, amid the thousands of other words in our daily lives, that one word that speaks to us not about things, but about life.

Dear brothers and sisters, let us make room inside ourselves for the word of God! Each day, let us read a verse or two of the Bible. Let us begin with the Gospel: let us keep it open on our table, carry it in our pocket or bag, read it on our cell phones, and allow it to inspire us daily. We will discover that God is close to us, that he dispels our darkness and, with great love, leads our lives into deep waters.

[Pope Francis, homily 26 January 2020]

Childbirth and Manifestation

(Mt 2:1-12)

Mt writes in the 80s for the third generation worshippers. It is a time when he sees that in the first communities the pagans entered in droves, while precisely those who for centuries had been waiting for the Light to which they seemed so fond were disdainfully rejecting it.

The narrative of the Epiphany draws inspiration from what was happening before the eyes of believers at the end of the first century.

People who have always had the habit of waiting, by now they did not wait or see anything. They had become so accustomed to ancient expectations that they no longer imagined that they could have a real Encounter with the Newness of God.

The impact of those who honestly were looking for the Star was quite different: a distinct approach, albeit in precarious balance, which nevertheless allowed indeed the distant ones on the way to ask the right questions.

Without interests to defend, the new seekers of God were still on the march, they were moved away from all the ancient shackles and from their own ideas. Without respite they walked a long and new Way.

They were not just looking for quietist reassurances. They understood that the Treasure of God is in a Journey, for a not mediocre wonder; all of Origin.

While addressing religious authorities and experts in the ancient Scriptures (vv.1-2), authentic pilgrims continued to head forward.

In this way, flying over the habitual fences of respect for roles, social prominence, conformist interpretation.

But if the throne feared for its power, the temple was afraid of losing the exclusivity on God, then hegemony over consciences.

[In the Gospels, thrones and altars are under the banner of supremacy, strength, dowry, deception: here vv.3-4].

However, the Explorers did not submit to ceremonies of established verticism, nor to the influence of a fake uniformity.

Thus receiving the Radiance of Christmas Revelation: God is not a ruler, but unarmed. Tender and Small, among defenseless.

By tradition, the people of Messianic promises were considered to be awarded a regal, priestly and sponsal dignity.

These Gifts [gold and incense and myrrh: v.11] are now passed on to people of any cultural background.

Pope Francis would perhaps mention those who are endowed with a «freewheeling intuitions» - remote, «effective» treasures, so precious for the synodal path (and equally neglected) [Speech September 18, 2021].

In short, the seekers of God are called and drawn from an unthinkable geography and history, because they remain the only ones who have the liver to constantly embark on a different route: «other Way» (v.12).

Because the normality of the dictated courses kills life - annihilating the spirit of adventure and surprise that bothers to dive into the present.

And those born from wave to wave produce healthy opportunities.

The Lord knows to what potentialities of good the even more embarrassing creatures can be converted, and chaises them.

At some point in our journey - then from time to time - we will understand that the discomfort of exploration had the function of bringing to light the Child in us, hidden and misjudged.

In short, some "religious" defects make us Unique, Special. They guide us to venerate that Frugolus present, who is complicit in us.

They bring us Home, our very own.

[Epiphany of the Lord, January 6]

Birth and Manifestation

Mt 2:1-12 (1-18)

The Epiphany narrative takes its cue from what was happening before the eyes of believers at the end of the first century.

Mt writes in the 1980s for the third generation of believers.

It was a time when even in the earliest communities it was noticeable that pagans had entered in droves - while those who had been waiting for centuries for the Light they seemed so fond of were disdainfully rejecting it.

The self-confident people, all pious, chosen, always installed, who had been in the habit of waiting ... were now waiting for nothing.

They saw every happening the same as before; nothing new.

They had become so accustomed to their old hopes or their certainties, that they no longer imagined that they could make a personal, real encounter with the Newness of God.

They took refuge in their own little world of habit, known and safe; without remedy - some even out of opportunism of position.

Thus they avoided the hassle of having to rethink a fundamental thought.

They were the experts in religious practice; how to contradict the role-minded, veteran Judaizers, top of the class?

It was not the young life, the face-to-face, nor the reality, that engaged them. Only perhaps the regrets of the glorious past; imperial, even.

No earthquake had to claim space, within the convictions and image of the chosen people.

After all, those who conceive according to common ranks have nothing to think about but their own illusory clichés - losing touch with events.

Ultimately floundering in the attempt to cling to the usual motifs, always repeated; without present incisiveness, nor future trajectory.

The veterans at the head of the same fraternities of the origins found it difficult to abandon themselves to the new tide of people and impulses coming at them - yielding to the stimuli with confidence, enjoying new breath.

Mt notes that the already secure and titled felt bound by 'cultural' and religious merits that did not admit of fractures, variations, other basic ideas.

In particular, because they did not trust in the power of concrete life, they did not allow themselves to be saved or sustained by Providence, which was renewing the face of the earth.

Rather, devout people seemed bound to the habit of the usual external scaffolding of worship, and ways of understanding and doing.

So in this pericope the evangelist encourages the believing brethren of his communities, to shift their gaze, to open their vision.

For a Faith that could know more, and grasp-beyond what was stagnating in the mechanical identity world of established religiosity, now almost useless.

Quite different was the impact of those who honestly sought Salvation, the Light, the Star; even from an intimate sense of emptiness, rather than from certainties.

The option of Faith is also for us a different approach, all precariously balanced, which nevertheless allows even those far away to ask the right questions.

Deprived of interests to defend, the wayfarers of the truly sacred abandon their conceptions. They set out, freed from all the fetters of (particular, inherited) custom or of the dominant à la page thinking.

Undeterred, the pilgrims of the divine Spirit walk their long Way; without falsehood.

They do not seek only quietist assurances; they are not content with what is in their pockets, nor with the easy external consensus.

They understand that God's Treasure is hidden in a mysterious Path, but one that flanks and is worth more than comfort or approval.

Presence [nothing clamorous, but] on which one can paradoxically lean, for a wonder that is not mediocre; all of Origin.

While addressing religious authorities and experts in the ancient Scriptures (vv.1-2) the travellers continue to move forward.

They fly over the habitual fences of role-respect, social prominence, conformist interpretation.

Meanwhile, if the throne fears for power, the temple fears losing exclusivity over God, hence hegemony over consciences.

[In the Gospels, thrones and altars stand for supremacy, power, dowry, deception: here vv.3-4].

However, the Explorers do not submit to ceremonials of established verticality, nor to the influence of a feigned uniformity.

Thus they receive the radiance of the Revelation of Christmas: God is not a ruler, but defenceless. Tender and Small, among the helpless.

Traditionally, the people of the messianic promises considered themselves endowed with royal, priestly and spousal dignity.

These Gifts [gold and frankincense and myrrh: v.11] are now passed on to people of all backgrounds.

To add to the dose, Mt sets the stage not only for distant pagans, but for the worst that the ethical target audience of the time could imagine: magicians!

Remarkable people at that time, if they acted as astrologers: a kind of scrutinisers of the heavens and intellectuals of the sacred places - thus eminent representatives of different cultures. 

But the Greek term "màgoi" - literally: "magicians" - also indicated charlatans, corrupters, even deviators of biblical spirituality.

An activity severely condemned by the Scriptures, and in the Didaché put on the index among the most degrading activities: between the prohibition of abortion and that of stealing.

God welcomes and recognises first not the powerful (or the religious) drunkards and addicts of appearance; rather, the distant ones.

And among them, those precisely those who are strangers to any label or usual criterion of discernment.

Pope Francis would perhaps mention those who are endowed with a "flair without citizenship" - a remote, "effective" treasure, so precious for the synodal path (and equally neglected) [Address 18 September 2021].

The Christmas of Lk introduces the shepherds, the prairie dogs who led an impure and wild life, like the beasts they tended.

In Mt we find the magicians: even the deceivers!

In short, the seekers of God are called and drawn from an unthinkable geography and history, because they are the only ones who have the guts to constantly take a different path: "another Way" (v.12).

The critical witnesses do not stop at the melancholy of the third wheel: they want the risk of direct love.

The normality of comfort zones, of reasoning, procedures, dictated paths, kills life - annihilating the spirit of adventure and surprise that bristles at diving into the present.

The waters of the new energy that feeds on astonishment are contaminated by commonplaces, by the usual nests that do not evolve and only prop up roles or positions - making the astonishment of the vital quest pale.

But when we gloss over banal judgements, conformisms, mental cages, local customs, glamorous fantasies - our Uniqueness dares to give birth to an unknown Person.

And he who is born from wave to wave produces healthy opportunities.

At some point along our path - then from time to time - we will realise that the discomfort of exploration had the function of giving birth to the Child within us, concealed and misjudged.

The Lord knows to what potential for good precisely the most awkward creatures can be converted, and He tampers with them.

But one can risk it all not out of habit: only out of Faith, that is, trusting Friendship and Hope, in action.

In short, certain 'religious' faults make us Unique, Special. They make us venerate that present Frugolo, who is our accomplice.

They make us return Home, the one that is truly ours.

Revelation, support, new Way and new People

The energy of sadness

(Mt 2:13-18)

The cruelty of Herod - an exasperated egomaniac - became proverbial even in Rome.

In his last years, absurdly withdrawn into a restless adherence to himself, he caused three of his sons to perish and issued a decree [not executed due to his death] by which he ordered the most influential among the Jews to be eliminated - both the (supposed) pretenders to the throne and the dissenters on the land.

In the Gospel passage the king is an icon of the will to power that kills those who recall the spirit of Christ's childhood: the Son of God placed his being in the Father's Mission.

[Such decentralised humility not only saves us in the order of grace, but also in that of human equilibrium].

Mt wrote his Gospel in response to the situation the Church was experiencing at a very critical time.

After the year 70, the only groups that survived the destruction of Judaism were the Messianic Christians and the Pharisees - both convinced that the armed struggle against the Roman Empire had nothing to do with the fulfilment of the Promises.

Not many years after the disaster in Jerusalem, it was precisely the sect of the Pharisees, now deprived of their place of worship - the centre of national identity - that began to organise themselves to centralise the governance of the synagogues.

Accused of betraying their particular culture and customs, the Judaizers who recognised Jesus as the Son of God were eventually driven out of the synagogues themselves.

Growing opposition and then explicit separation from the covenant people made the bewilderment of the faithful and the problem of the very identity of the early Assemblies of Faith acute; groups in obvious distress.

Mt encouraged them to avoid defections, supporting those who had received the sharp excommunication from the leaders of popular religiosity - hitherto admired for their strong devotion, and held in high regard.

To help overcome the trauma, the Glad Tidings addressed to the Judaizing converts set out to reveal Jesus as the true fulfilment of the Prophecies and the authentic Messiah - in the figure of the new Moses who fulfils the promises of liberation.

Like him, a persecuted man who had to relentlessly move and flee (cf. Ex 4:19).

According to a generalised belief in Judaism, the time of the Lord's Anointed One would re-actualise the time of Moses. 

But the ancient leader of "the Mount" had imposed a relationship between God and the people based on banal obedience to a Law.

The genuine and transparent Son, on the other hand, now proposes to the brethren of Faith a creative relationship of blessedness and communion based on Likeness.

A relationship called to overcome the old righteousness of the Pharisees (Mt 5:20).

No fear then - even for us - of harassment, which must simply be taken into account.

On the contrary, taken as opportunities to witness love and strong involvement, in the Master's own story - reinterpreted in the first person.

Here is also indicated a new Path of seeking the Light or Star that guides our steps.

All like the Magi - strangers, yet authentic worshippers of the Lord.

They were able to avoid the vigilance of the ruler - thus they found their own dwelling place, deviating from the path already planned.

Like God's Envoy par excellence who experienced the same fate as his people, the churches of all times can experience in him an identical Exodus story.

An unprecedented journey, a forge of exploration and change of mentality; of consolation and more vivid hope - with inexorable contrasts.

Christ is the hidden and persecuted Messiah, founder of a new People, resigned and fraternal. Germ of an alternative society to the ruthless one in the field.

Crowning of the hopes of all men.

Denial of the Lord's way itself projects a dark atmosphere: it becomes preservation of the belligerent.

Rejection of humanisation... whose therapy lies in the trust of the 'little ones', in the youthful and 'childlike' audacity that does not know the impossible.

The innocent children of that extermination are the figure of the children of God of every century, as the 'peers' of Jesus, able to re-actualise the spontaneous time - contrary to violence and death.

They are the persecuted and taken out because of the paradoxical subversive force of their tender, outspoken faith.

The opposite of the servile and flattering, devoured by calculation; always ready for deference to the fierce holders of power. Intimidated by the possibility that a soft and puny life-form might destabilise their positions.

But in the event of severe anguish, even the energy of sadness that runs through painful events (vv.17-18) will rediscover what really matters.

This will allow for rebirth (in weeping, in darkness) separating us too from that kind of character.

To internalise and live the message:

In the realisation of yourself in Christ, how have you tenderly broken down the prison of common thought, power and its fears?

Let us set out

to change our minds, to find ourselves

Dear young people!

On our pilgrimage with the mysterious Magi of the East, we have reached that moment which St Matthew in his Gospel describes to us as follows: "When they entered the house (on which the star had stopped), they saw the child with Mary his mother, and prostrating themselves they adored him" (Mt 2:11). The outward journey of those men was over. They had reached the goal. But at this point a new journey began for them, an inner pilgrimage that changed their whole life. For surely they had imagined this newborn King differently. They had indeed stopped in Jerusalem to gather news from the local king about the promised king who had been born. They knew that the world was in disarray, and therefore their hearts were restless. They were certain that God existed and that he was a just and benign God. And perhaps they had also heard of the great prophecies in which the prophets of Israel announced a King who would be in intimate harmony with God, and who in His name and on His behalf would restore the world to order. To seek this King they had set out: from the depths of their innermost being they were in search of the right, of the righteousness that was to come from God, and they wished to serve that King, to prostrate themselves at his feet and thus to serve themselves in the renewal of the world. They belonged to that kind of people "who hunger and thirst for righteousness" (Mt 5:6). This hunger and thirst had followed them on their pilgrimage - they had made themselves pilgrims in search of the righteousness they were waiting for from God, in order to serve it.

Although the other men, those who stayed at home, may have thought them utopians and dreamers - they were instead people with their feet on the ground, and they knew that to change the world one must have power. That is why they could not look for the child of promise except in the palace of the king. Now, however, they bowed before a child of poor people, and soon learned that Herod - that King to whom they had gone - intended to undermine them with his power, so that the family would be left with nothing but flight and exile. The new king, before whom they had prostrated themselves in adoration, differed greatly from their expectation. So they had to learn that God is different from how we usually imagine him. Here began their inner journey. It began at the very moment when they prostrated themselves before this child and recognised him as the promised King. But these joyful gestures they still had to achieve inwardly.

They had to change their ideas about power, about God and man, and in doing so, they also had to change themselves. Now they saw: God's power is different from the power of the world's powerful. God's way of acting is different from how we imagine it and how we would like to impose it on Him. God in this world does not compete with earthly forms of power. He does not pit His divisions against other divisions. To Jesus, in the Garden of Olives, God does not send twelve legions of angels to help him (cf. Matthew 26:53). He contrasts the noisy and overbearing power of this world with the defenceless power of love, which on the Cross - and then again and again throughout history - succumbs, and yet constitutes the new, divine thing that then opposes injustice and establishes the Kingdom of God. God is different - that is what they now recognise. And that means that they themselves must now become different, they must learn God's way.

They had come to put themselves at the service of this King, to model their kingship on his. This was the meaning of their gesture of homage, of their worship. Also part of it were the gifts - gold, frankincense and myrrh - gifts that they offered to a King they considered divine. Worship has a content and also involves a gift. Wanting by the gesture of adoration to recognise this child as their King at whose service they intended to put their power and possibilities, the men from the East were certainly following the right track. By serving and following Him, they wished together with Him to serve the cause of justice and goodness in the world. And in this they were right. But now they learn that this cannot be achieved simply by commands and from the top of a throne. Now they learn that they must give themselves - a gift less than this is not enough for this King. Now they learn that their lives must conform to this divine way of exercising power, to this way of being of God himself. They must become men of truth, of right, of goodness, of forgiveness, of mercy. They will no longer ask: What is this for? They must instead ask: With what do I serve God's presence in the world? They must learn to lose themselves and in this way find themselves. As they leave Jerusalem, they must remain in the footsteps of the true King, following Jesus.

Dear friends, we wonder what all this means for us. For what we have just said about the different nature of God, which must guide our lives, sounds beautiful, but remains rather nuanced and vague. That is why God has given us examples. The Magi from the East are only the first in a long procession of men and women who in their lives have constantly looked for the star of God, who have sought that God who is close to us, human beings, and shows us the way. This is the great host of saints - known or unknown - through whom the Lord, throughout history, has opened the Gospel before us and turned its pages; this, He is still doing today. In their lives, as in a large picture book, the richness of the Gospel is revealed. They are the luminous wake of God that He Himself throughout history has traced and still traces. My venerable predecessor Pope John Paul II, who is with us at this moment, beatified and canonised a great host of people from ages far and near. In these figures, he wanted to show us how to be a Christian; how to conduct one's life rightly - to live according to God's way. The blessed and the saints were people who did not stubbornly seek their own happiness, but simply wanted to give of themselves, because they were reached by the light of Christ. They thus show us the way to become happy, they show us how to be truly human persons. In the vicissitudes of history, they have been the true reformers who have so many times raised it from the dark valleys into which it is always in danger of sinking again; they have always enlightened it again as much as was necessary to make it possible to accept - perhaps in pain - the word spoken by God at the end of the work of creation: 'It is good'. It is enough to think of figures such as St Benedict, St Francis of Assisi, St Teresa of Avila, St Ignatius of Loyola, St Charles Borromeo, the founders of the Religious Orders of the 19th century who animated and directed the social movement, or the saints of our time - Maximilian Kolbe, Edith Stein, Mother Teresa, Padre Pio. By contemplating these figures we learn what it means to 'worship', and what it means to live according to the measure of the child of Bethlehem, according to the measure of Jesus Christ and God himself.

The saints, we have said, are the true reformers. Now I would like to express it even more radically: only from the saints, only from God comes the true revolution, the decisive change in the world. In the century just gone by we experienced revolutions whose common programme was to no longer wait for God's intervention, but to take the fate of the world totally into their own hands. And we saw that, with that, always a human and partial point of view was taken as the absolute measure of orientation. The absolutization of what is not absolute but relative is called totalitarianism. It does not free man, but takes away his dignity and enslaves him. It is not ideologies that save the world, but only turning to the living God, who is our creator, the guarantor of our freedom, the guarantor of what is truly good and true. The true revolution consists solely in turning unreservedly to God who is the measure of what is right and at the same time is eternal love. And what could save us if not love?

Dear friends! Allow me to add just two brief thoughts. There are many who speak of God; in the name of God, hatred is also preached and violence is practised. That is why it is important to discover the true face of God. The Magi of the East found it, when they prostrated themselves before the child of Bethlehem. "He who has seen me has seen the Father", Jesus said to Philip (Jn 14:9). In Jesus Christ, who allowed his heart to be pierced for us, the true face of God appeared in Him. We will follow him together with the great host of those who have gone before us. Then we shall walk on the right path.

This means that we do not construct for ourselves a private God, we do not construct for ourselves a private Jesus, but that we believe in and prostrate ourselves before that Jesus who is shown to us in the Holy Scriptures and who in the great procession of the faithful called the Church is revealed as living, always with us and at the same time always before us. One can criticise the Church a great deal. We know it, and the Lord himself has told us so: she is a net with good fish and bad fish, a field with wheat and darnel. Pope John Paul II, who in the many blesseds and saints has shown us the true face of the Church, has also asked forgiveness for what evil has happened in the course of history through the actions and speech of men of the Church. In this way he also showed us our true image and urged us to enter with all our faults and weaknesses into the procession of the saints, which began with the Magi from the East. After all, it is consoling that there is discord in the Church. Thus, with all our faults we can nevertheless hope to find ourselves still in the following of Jesus, who called precisely sinners. The Church is like a human family, but it is also at the same time the great family of God, through which He forms a space of communion and unity across all continents, cultures and nations. That is why we are happy to belong to this big family that we see here; we are happy to have brothers and friends all over the world. We experience right here in Cologne how beautiful it is to belong to a family as large as the world, which includes heaven and earth, past, present and future, and all parts of the earth. In this great group of pilgrims we walk together with Christ, we walk with the star that illuminates history.

"When they entered the house, they saw the child and Mary his mother, and bowing down they adored him" (Mt 2:11). Dear friends, this is not a distant story that happened long ago. This is presence. Here in the sacred Host He is before us and in our midst. Just as then, He mysteriously veils Himself in holy silence, and just as then, He reveals the true face of God. He became for us a grain of wheat that falls into the earth and dies and bears fruit until the end of the world (cf. Jn 12:24). He is present as then in Bethlehem. He invites us to that inner pilgrimage called adoration. Let us now set out on this pilgrimage and ask Him to guide us. Amen.

[Pope Benedict, WYD Cologne Vigil 20 August 2005].

Dear young friends,

In our pilgrimage with the mysterious Magi from the East, we have arrived at the moment which St Matthew describes in his Gospel with these words: "Going into the house (over which the star had halted), they saw the child with Mary his mother, and they fell down and worshipped him" (Mt 2: 11). Outwardly, their journey was now over. They had reached their goal.

But at this point a new journey began for them, an inner pilgrimage which changed their whole lives. Their mental picture of the infant King they were expecting to find must have been very different. They had stopped at Jerusalem specifically in order to ask the King who lived there for news of the promised King who had been born. They knew that the world was in disorder, and for that reason their hearts were troubled.

They were sure that God existed and that he was a just and gentle God. And perhaps they also knew of the great prophecies of Israel foretelling a King who would be intimately united with God, a King who would restore order to the world, acting for God and in his Name.

It was in order to seek this King that they had set off on their journey:  deep within themselves they felt prompted to go in search of the true justice that can only come from God, and they wanted to serve this King, to fall prostrate at his feet and so play their part in the renewal of the world. They were among those "who hunger and thirst for justice" (Mt 5: 6). This hunger and thirst had spurred them on in their pilgrimage - they had become pilgrims in search of the justice that they expected from God, intending to devote themselves to its service.

Even if those who had stayed at home may have considered them Utopian dreamers, they were actually people with their feet on the ground, and they knew that in order to change the world it is necessary to have power. Hence, they were hardly likely to seek the promised child anywhere but in the King's palace. Yet now they were bowing down before the child of poor people, and they soon came to realize that Herod, the King they had consulted, intended to use his power to lay a trap for him, forcing the family to flee into exile.

The new King, to whom they now paid homage, was quite unlike what they were expecting. In this way they had to learn that God is not as we usually imagine him to be. This was where their inner journey began. It started at the very moment when they knelt down before this child and recognized him as the promised King. But they still had to assimilate these joyful gestures internally.

They had to change their ideas about power, about God and about man, and in so doing, they also had to change themselves. Now they were able to see that God's power is not like that of the powerful of this world. God's ways are not as we imagine them or as we might wish them to be.

God does not enter into competition with earthly powers in this world. He does not marshal his divisions alongside other divisions. God did not send 12 legions of angels to assist Jesus in the Garden of Olives (cf. Mt 26: 53). He contrasts the noisy and ostentatious power of this world with the defenceless power of love, which succumbs to death on the Cross and dies ever anew throughout history; yet it is this same love which constitutes the new divine intervention that opposes injustice and ushers in the Kingdom of God.

God is different - this is what they now come to realize. And it means that they themselves must now become different, they must learn God's ways.

They had come to place themselves at the service of this King, to model their own kingship on his. That was the meaning of their act of homage, their adoration. Included in this were their gifts - gold, frankincense and myrrh - gifts offered to a King held to be divine. Adoration has a content and it involves giving. Through this act of adoration, these men from the East wished to recognize the child as their King and to place their own power and potential at his disposal, and in this they were certainly on the right path.

By serving and following him, they wanted, together with him, to serve the cause of good and the cause of justice in the world. In this they were right.

Now, though, they have to learn that this cannot be achieved simply through issuing commands from a throne on high. Now they have to learn to give themselves - no lesser gift would be sufficient for this King. Now they have to learn that their lives must be conformed to this divine way of exercising power, to God's own way of being.

They must become men of truth, of justice, of goodness, of forgiveness, of mercy. They will no longer ask:  how can this serve me? Instead, they will have to ask:  How can I serve God's presence in the world? They must learn to lose their life and in this way to find it. Having left Jerusalem behind, they must not deviate from the path marked out by the true King, as they follow Jesus.

Dear friends, what does all this mean for us?

What we have just been saying about the nature of God being different, and about the way our lives must be shaped accordingly, sounds very fine, but remains rather vague and unfocused. That is why God has given us examples. The Magi from the East are just the first in a long procession of men and women who have constantly tried to gaze upon God's star in their lives, going in search of the God who has drawn close to us and shows us the way.

It is the great multitude of the saints - both known and unknown - in whose lives the Lord has opened up the Gospel before us and turned over the pages; he has done this throughout history and he still does so today. In their lives, as if in a great picture-book, the riches of the Gospel are revealed. They are the shining path which God himself has traced throughout history and is still tracing today.

My venerable Predecessor Pope John Paul II, who is with us at this moment, beatified and canonized a great many people from both the distant and the recent past. Through these individuals he wanted to show us how to be Christian:  how to live life as it should be lived - according to God's way. The saints and the blesseds did not doggedly seek their own happiness, but simply wanted to give themselves, because the light of Christ had shone upon them.

They show us the way to attain happiness, they show us how to be truly human. Through all the ups and downs of history, they were the true reformers who constantly rescued it from plunging into the valley of darkness; it was they who constantly shed upon it the light that was needed to make sense - even in the midst of suffering - of God's words spoken at the end of the work of creation:  "It is very good".

One need only think of such figures as St Benedict, St Francis of Assisi, St Teresa of Avila, St Ignatius of Loyola, St Charles Borromeo, the founders of 19-century religious orders who inspired and guided the social movement, or the saints of our own day - Maximilian Kolbe, Edith Stein, Mother Teresa, Padre Pio. In contemplating these figures we learn what it means "to adore" and what it means to live according to the measure of the Child of Bethlehem, by the measure of Jesus Christ and of God himself.

The saints, as we said, are the true reformers. Now I want to express this in an even more radical way:  only from the saints, only from God does true revolution come, the definitive way to change the world.

In the last century we experienced revolutions with a common programme - expecting nothing more from God, they assumed total responsibility for the cause of the world in order to change it. And this, as we saw, meant that a human and partial point of view was always taken as an absolute guiding principle. Absolutizing what is not absolute but relative is called totalitarianism. It does not liberate man, but takes away his dignity and enslaves him.

It is not ideologies that save the world, but only a return to the living God, our Creator, the guarantor of our freedom, the guarantor of what is really good and true. True revolution consists in simply turning to God who is the measure of what is right and who at the same time is everlasting love. And what could ever save us apart from love?

Dear friends! Allow me to add just two brief thoughts.

There are many who speak of God; some even preach hatred and perpetrate violence in God's Name. So it is important to discover the true face of God. The Magi from the East found it when they knelt down before the Child of Bethlehem. "Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father", said Jesus to Philip (Jn 14: 9). In Jesus Christ, who allowed his heart to be pierced for us, the true face of God is seen. We will follow him together with the great multitude of those who went before us. Then we will be travelling along the right path.

This means that we are not constructing a private God, we are not constructing a private Jesus, but that we believe and worship the Jesus who is manifested to us by the Sacred Scriptures and who reveals himself to be alive in the great procession of the faithful called the Church, always alongside us and always before us.

There is much that could be criticized in the Church. We know this and the Lord himself told us so:  it is a net with good fish and bad fish, a field with wheat and darnel.

Pope John Paul II, as well as revealing the true face of the Church in the many saints that he canonized, also asked pardon for the wrong that was done in the course of history through the words and deeds of members of the Church. In this way he showed us our own true image and urged us to take our place, with all our faults and weaknesses, in the procession of the saints that began with the Magi from the East.

It is actually consoling to realize that there is darnel in the Church. In this way, despite all our defects, we can still hope to be counted among the disciples of Jesus, who came to call sinners.

The Church is like a human family, but at the same time it is also the great family of God, through which he establishes an overarching communion and unity that embraces every continent, culture and nation. So we are glad to belong to this great family that we see here; we are glad to have brothers and friends all over the world.

Here in Cologne we discover the joy of belonging to a family as vast as the world, including Heaven and earth, the past, the present, the future and every part of the earth. In this great band of pilgrims we walk side by side with Christ, we walk with the star that enlightens our history.

"Going into the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother, and they fell down and worshipped him" (Mt 2: 11). Dear friends, this is not a distant story that took place long ago. It is with us now. Here in the Sacred Host he is present before us and in our midst. As at that time, so now he is mysteriously veiled in a sacred silence; as at that time, it is here that the true face of God is revealed. For us he became a grain of wheat that falls on the ground and dies and bears fruit until the end of the world (cf. Jn 12: 24).

He is present now as he was then in Bethlehem. He invites us to that inner pilgrimage which is called adoration. Let us set off on this pilgrimage of the spirit and let us ask him to be our guide. Amen.

[Pope Benedict, World Youth Day Vigil Cologne 20 August 2005]

1. "Arise, shine out Jerusalem, for your light has come. The glory of the Lord is rising on you" (Is 60: 1).

The prophet Isaiah turns his gaze to the future. He is not looking so much at the secular future, but, enlightened by the Spirit, he directs his gaze to the fullness of time, to the fulfilment of God's plan in the messianic age.

The prediction uttered by the prophet concerns the Holy City, which he sees brightly shining:  "Though night still covers the earth and darkness the peoples, above you the Lord now rises and above you his glory appears" (Is 60: 2). This is exactly what happened with the incarnation of the Word of God. With him "the true light that enlightens every man came into the world" (Jn 1: 9). From now on everyone's destiny will be decided by whether he accepts or rejects this light:  for the life of men is found in him (cf. Jn 1: 4).

2. Today the light that appeared on Christmas extends its rays:  it is the light of God's epiphany. It is no longer only the shepherds of Bethlehem who see and follow it; it is also the Magi Kings, who came to Jerusalem from the East to adore the newborn King (cf. Mt 2: 1-12). With the Magi came the nations, which begin their journey to the divine Light.

Today the Church celebrates this saving Epiphany by listening to the description of it in Matthew's Gospel. The well-known account of the Magi, who came from the East in search of the One who was to be born, has always inspired popular piety as well, becoming a traditional part of the crib.
Epiphany is both an event and a symbol. The event is described in detail by the Evangelist. The symbolic meaning, however, was gradually discovered as the Church reflected more and more on the event and celebrated it liturgically […]

5. Today's liturgy urges us to be joyful. There is a reason for this:  the light that shone from the Christmas star to lead the Magi from the East to Bethlehem continues to guide all the peoples and nations of the world on the same journey.

Let us give thanks for the men and women who have made this journey during the past 2,000 years. Let us praise Christ, Lumen gentium, who guided them and continues to guide the nations down the path of history!

To him, the Lord of time, God from God, Light from Light, we confidently address our prayer.

May his star, the Epiphany star, continually shine in our hearts, showing to individuals and nations the way of truth, love and peace in the third millennium. Amen.

[Pope John Paul II, homily for the ordination of bishops 6 January 2000]

“Lumen requirunt lumine”. These evocative words from a liturgical hymn for the Epiphany speak of the experience of the Magi: following a light, they were searching for the Light. The star appearing in the sky kindled in their minds and in their hearts a light that moved them to seek the great Light of Christ. The Magi followed faithfully that light which filled their hearts, and they encountered the Lord.

The destiny of every person is symbolized in this journey of the Magi of the East: our life is a journey, illuminated by the lights which brighten our way, to find the fullness of truth and love which we Christians recognize in Jesus, the Light of the World. Like the Magi, every person has two great “books” which provide the signs to guide this pilgrimage: the book of creation and the book of sacred Scripture. What is important is that we be attentive, alert, and listen to God who speaks to us, who always speaks to us. As the Psalm says in referring to the Law of the Lord: “Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path” (Ps 119:105). Listening to the Gospel, reading it, meditating on it and making it our spiritual nourishment especially allows us to encounter the living Jesus, to experience him and his love.

The first reading echoes, in the words of the prophet Isaiah, the call of God to Jerusalem: “Arise, shine!” (Is 60:1). Jerusalem is called to be the city of light which reflects God’s light to the world and helps humanity to walk in his ways. This is the vocation and the mission of the People of God in the world. But Jerusalem can fail to respond to this call of the Lord. The Gospel tells us that the Magi, when they arrived in Jerusalem, lost sight of the star for a time. They no longer saw it. Its light was particularly absent from the palace of King Herod: his dwelling was gloomy, filled with darkness, suspicion, fear, envy. Herod, in fact, proved himself distrustful and preoccupied with the birth of a frail Child whom he thought of as a rival. In realty Jesus came not to overthrow him, a wretched puppet, but to overthrow the Prince of this world! Nonetheless, the king and his counsellors sensed that the foundations of their power were crumbling. They feared that the rules of the game were being turned upside down, that appearances were being unmasked. A whole world built on power, on success, possessions and corruption was being thrown into crisis by a child! Herod went so far as to kill the children. As Saint Quodvultdeus writes, “You destroy those who are tiny in body because fear is destroying your heart” (Sermo 2 de Symbolo: PL 40, 655). This was in fact the case: Herod was fearful and on account of this fear, he became insane.

The Magi were able to overcome that dangerous moment of darkness before Herod, because they believed the Scriptures, the words of the prophets which indicated that the Messiah would be born in Bethlehem. And so they fled the darkness and dreariness of the night of the world. They resumed their journey towards Bethlehem and there they once more saw the star, and the gospel tells us that they experienced “a great joy” (Mt 2:10). The very star which could not be seen in that dark, worldly palace.

One aspect of the light which guides us on the journey of faith is holy “cunning”. This holy “cunning” is also a virtue. It consists of a spiritual shrewdness which enables us to recognize danger and avoid it. The Magi used this light of “cunning” when, on the way back, they decided not to pass by the gloomy palace of Herod, but to take another route. These wise men from the East teach us how not to fall into the snares of darkness and how to defend ourselves from the shadows which seek to envelop our life. By this holy “cunning”, the Magi guarded the faith. We too need to guard the faith, guard it from darkness. Many times, however, it is a darkness under the guise of light. This is because the devil, as saint Paul, says, disguises himself at times as an angel of light. And this is where a holy “cunning” is necessary in order to protect the faith, guarding it from those alarmist voices that exclaim: “Listen, today we must do this, or that...”. Faith though, is a grace, it is a gift. We are entrusted with the task of guarding it, by means of this holy “cunning” and by prayer, love, charity. We need to welcome the light of God into our hearts and, at the same time, to cultivate that spiritual cunning which is able to combine simplicity with astuteness, as Jesus told his disciples: “Be wise as serpents and innocent as doves” (Mt 10:16).

On the feast of the Epiphany, as we recall Jesus’ manifestation to humanity in the face of a Child, may we sense the Magi at our side, as wise companions on the way. Their example helps us to lift our gaze towards the star and to follow the great desires of our heart. They teach us not to be content with a life of mediocrity, of “playing it safe”, but to let ourselves be attracted always by what is good, true and beautiful… by God, who is all of this, and so much more! And they teach us not to be deceived by appearances, by what the world considers great, wise and powerful. We must not stop at that. It is necessary to guard the faith. Today this is of vital importance: to keep the faith. We must press on further, beyond the darkness, beyond the voices that raise alarm, beyond worldliness, beyond so many forms of modernity that exist today. We must press on towards Bethlehem, where, in the simplicity of a dwelling on the outskirts, beside a mother and father full of love and of faith, there shines forth the Sun from on high, the King of the universe. By the example of the Magi, with our little lights, may we seek the Light and keep the faith. May it be so.

[Pope Francis, Epiphany 2014]

Incarnation: raw life is filled with powers

(Jn 1:1-18)

According to ancient cultures, Logos-Sarx is a bold and impossible juxtaposition. Yet it marks the difference between religiosity and Faith.

Incarnation: raw life is filled with energies.

Our eternal side - which has pitched a tent in us - sends things so that by perceiving, by accepting, by becoming aware, we can prepare the development of the soul, of our Home.

It would be impossible to take the path to full Happiness if we did not gather and take in every bit of our being scattered across the world and across time, making every expectation, every moment, every oscillation even broken, meaningful and divine.

The Logos has innumerable Seeds already planted in us: they are all mouldable, non-crystalline energy polarities: points of tension.

Many of them seemingly unsteady, but they restart at the destination of completeness.

[All conversion has its root in the perception of the defect of being: it is dissatisfaction that drives us on].

Provisionalities called to become fixed points - then shaky again, because only through processes of fluctuation are the dynamics triggered that will lead to total growth (with other moments of Exodus).

As a Zen aphorism [collected in Ts'ai Ken T'an] suggests: «Water that is too pure has no fish».

Already here and now we thrive on the earth of a precious seed of the Word. His authentic Tent is 'in-us' and in all motives.

Therefore the «Light of men» (v.4) will no longer be - according to the convictions of the time - the arid regulations of the Law, but the «Life» in its fullness. Spontaneous, real and unrefined: raw, therefore full of powers.

«And the ‘Light’ shines in the darkness» (v.5)!

Just like a plant, which neither takes root nor expands in a distilled environment.

In order to welcome the ever-new and bubbling, we must allow access to all our soul “guests” - who will make us meet ourselves; even the neuroses.

He who Lives proposes a profound Exodus, to become ever-born again. Man's going is not subservient to a one-sided Master.

No longer precisely named 'heights'; inaccessible and distant places to go - on pain of exclusion - but rather Images and Likeness of a God who comes to find us at Home, where we are.

It is the same marginality encountered within - now without hysteria - that infallibly points us to the existential peripheries of others, which we are called to frequent, regenerate, sublimate, move, let rise.

The new relationship with God is no longer founded on discrepant purity and obedience, lavished on rigid precepts and unquestionable traditions or fashions.

Rather, in personal vicissitudes and in the conviviality of differences, Similarity with the Word takes over.

It is the Dream of each and all - in Christ already introduced into the Breasts of the Eternal One convincing and lovable because He is 'inclusive' of Being; not in the way of paternalisms ultimately good-naturedly bestowed.

We have in common the 'Displacement'. An end «Word» on univocity.

To internalise and live the message:

How do you start the day? Do you welcome your guests (even emptiness)? Or do you approach them with excessive judgement?

[2nd Christmas Sunday, January 5, 2025]

Power of raw life

(Jn 1:1-18)

Gialal al-Din Rumi, a 13th century Persian mystic and lyricist (founder of the Sufi confraternity of dervishes) writes in his poem 'The Inn

The human being is an inn,

every morning someone new arrives.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,

a moment of awareness arrives from time to time,

like an unexpected visitor.

Welcome them all, entertain them all!

Even if there is a crowd of sorrows

violently ravaging the house

stripping it of all furniture,

still, treat every guest with honour:

it may be that he is freeing you

in view of new pleasures.

To gloomy thoughts, to shame, to malice,

go to the door laughing,

and invite them in.

Be thankful for everything that comes,

for everything has been sent

as a guide to the hereafter.

We recognise in this poem-emblem some keys to discernment, underlying the existential paradoxes of the theology of the Incarnation.

A Sufi mystic helps to understand the pillars of our Path, far better than many evasive one-way doctrines.

They are identical laws of the soul already expressed in the famous Prologue of the Fourth Gospel: raw life is filled with powers.

Synthesis of underlying themes that specify Life in the Spirit in comparison to common religious experience.

Incarnation: our innermost fulcrums distinguish the adventure of Faith from the believer's one-sided existence in God.

Waking up in the morning, there is a new arrival in our 'inn' - not always overtly uplifting.

But in the many-roomed inn reception there must be a welcome, so that the unplanned encounter can open us up, become an aspect, or motive and engine of the decisive encounter - perhaps also unexpected.

Happenings, situations, insights, advice, relationships, even strange emotions, new realisations, other projects that we had not previously imagined or were simply unexpressed, come to visit us and leave us amazed.

Guests are to be welcomed, they have their dignity and they all express sides of ourselves: we are bound to welcome each one of them; even the anger, the sadness, the fears.

Missionaries know well that doubts are more fruitful than certainties, and that insecurity is safer than all 'certainties'.

The crowd of guests can call into question what is in our dwelling or inn, and sweep away all or part of it - even the foundations.

By being patient enough to honour each tenant - be they ancient memories or scapegoating utopias - we prepare our souls for an experience of fullness of being, launched from our own slums (muck become sprout territory).

Beginning with respect for our different boundaries and because of them, each new or re-emerging presence focuses us on listening to all the chaos that we are - chaos that prepares the delights that belong to us, and only in this way engage.

Our eternal side - which has pitched a tent in us - sends things so that by perceiving, welcoming, becoming aware, we can prepare the development of the soul, of our Home.

Evolution whose principles [and opportunities to step forward towards the completion of our full and divine personality] we simply find innate, within, and not in extrinsic adhesions - typical of external civilisation and of not a few expressions of faith reduced to religion.

The Prologue of John only reiterates the eternal pillars of a Wisdom that is revealed but natural, within the reach of all because it narrates love, even in the inner journey; difficult to understand only for those who allow themselves to be influenced by opinions and coded, abbreviated catechisms.

The Gospel reassures: it is News in our favour, because it makes us aware that the "lords" who come along are Gifts that clean up the dwelling, and if they throw it away, it is only to strengthen our essence, chiselling an unrepeatable Vocation: the one capable of recovering every shred of our history and making it a masterpiece.

It would be impossible to take the road to full Happiness if we did not gather and assume every shred of our being scattered in the world and in time, making every expectation, every moment, every oscillation even broken, meaningful and divine.

The Logos has countless Seeds already planted in us: they are all mouldable energy polarities; not crystalline. Points of tension. Many of them seemingly unsteady, but restarting at the destination of completeness.

Provisionalities called to become fixed points - then wobbly again, because only through processes of fluctuation are the dynamics that will lead to total growth triggered - with other moments of Exodus.

As a Zen aphorism [collected in Ts'ai Ken T'an] suggests: "Water that is too pure has no fish".Jn does not write that the Logos became 'man', but 'flesh' in the Semitic sense of a being full of limits, unfinished; for this reason devoted to the incessant search for meaning, partial to the point of death.

The weakness of women and men is not redeemed by admiring a heroic model and imitating it off the scale, but in a process of recovery of the whole being and of our history.

There are no Gifts of the Spirit that do not pass through the human dimension.

Already here and now we thrive on the earth of a precious seed of the Word. His authentic Tent is in us and in all motives.

The more we can bring our creaturely and humanising reality to its fullest, the more we will be on the path to the divine condition. Rooted on the earth of the inestimable lineage generated by the Logos.

To make us conscious and dilate life, the Eternal asks that we host the proposals with which it bursts in, with the sole purpose not to condition us but to complete us, and increase the self-confidence with which we face the present and activate the future, face to face.

We will not do this by becoming winners, but by welcoming what comes from Providence, from people and emotions (even from discomforts) without prejudice - not even that of always seeming to be accompanied by many people, being seen on the outside as confident, strong, performing.

Scenarios that invade life and take away the essential Perception of being present to minimal acts and relationships, to looking in and out. Clear awareness of self, of the human, of the world that guides towards our direction and our true nature.

Not the Ten Words - a typical Semitic category - but the One inclusive Word, Dream and Meaning of Creation, are the foundation of the Father's Work.

The Logos that takes root is qualitative, not partial, nor centred on a single name: One because it is One.

The story of Jesus of Nazareth suggests that sin has been shattered, i.e.: imperfection is not an obstacle to communion with Heaven, but a spring.

Imperfections do not make us inadequate: they set us on our way.

The Lord has annihilated the sense of inadequacy of the carnal condition and the humiliation of unbridgeable distances.

The Creator's 'initial' project is to share his own Life with all humanity. In this way, the Lord enters the world with confidence, without fear of contamination, nor cuts and separations - prejudice typical of the archaic mentality.

The Plan of Salvation is realised and has its summit in the defence, promotion, expansion of our relational quality of life.

Therefore: "Light of men" (v.4) will no longer be - according to the convictions of the time - the arid regulations of the Law, but rather "Life" in its complete fullness. Spontaneous, real and unrefined: raw, therefore full of power.

The Tao Tê Ching (xix), which considers the most celebrated virtues to be external, writes: "Teach that there is something else to adhere to: show yourself simple and keep yourself raw".

Master Wang Pi comments: 'Formal qualities are totally insufficient'.

And Master Ho-shang Kung adds: "Forget the regularity and creation of the saints; return to what was at the Beginning".

Thus in the Paths of Faith, it is no longer outwardness or convention that dictates the path and wisdom in the discernment of spirits.

Each has its own innate desire for fulfilment and totality of expression: this will be the sole criterion of our path.

Such will remain the intimate Light that guides our steps; such the Word of the invisible Friend who leads us and acts as a canon.

"And the Light shines in the darkness" (v.5)!

Just like a plant, which neither takes root nor expands in a distilled environment.

So what does not have or limit life does not proceed from God, the Living One, the promoter of all that expresses and unfolds exuberance.

Our vocation is to stand alongside the integral life, with its opposite sides making a covenant.

Religions do not welcome all guests [they turn out to be far more fertile than we imagine] who knock on the inner hotel.

But it is not with the parameters of established thought that one can understand or discover what complete Life is, because Life is always expansive, lush and new, full of facets.

Hence the need for constant change, from the old.

In short, the single non-negotiable principle is the real good of the concrete man; the rest escapes our foresight.

The classic risk is that: in the name of a God of the past [doctrine, customs, disciplines, ways of thinking and doing] we fail to notice and recognise the invitation, the empathic energy; the divine virtue that protrudes Present.

In order to welcome the ever new and bubbling, we must allow access to all our soul 'guests' - who will allow us to meet ourselves; even the neuroses.

He who lives proposes a profound Exodus, to become ever-born again. Man's going is not subject to a Master, not even a heavenly one.

We do not exist 'for' God, as is believed and preached in ancient devotions. They clog us up with external or intimist forms; they block the development of personality.

They do not allow us to draw on "our" own strength.

The Father asks to be accepted, not obeyed. In this way we will live by Him, and with Him and like Him we will go out to meet our brothers and sisters, managing also to make ourselves Food for our neighbour - without restless constraints that depersonalise.

Here are at work the new Shrines of flesh and blood that have replaced, supplanted, that of stone.

Presences, meeting places between history, joy and vertigo; between human and divine nature. Centres of irradiation of Love without conditions - nor reductions.

No longer precisely named heights, inaccessible and distant places to go - on pain of exclusion - but images and likenesses of a God who comes to find us at home, where we are.

It is the same marginality encountered within - now without hysteria - that infallibly points us to the existential peripheries of others, which we are called to frequent, regenerate, sublimate, move, resurrect.

The new relationship with God is no longer founded on discrepant purity and obedience, lavished on rigid precepts and unquestioning conformity.

Rather, in personal vicissitudes and in the conviviality of differences, similarity to the Word will take over.

Patriarch Athenagoras confessed:

"We need Christ, without him we are nothing. But he needs us to act in history. The entire history of humanity from the resurrection onwards, and even from the origins onwards, constitutes a kind of pan-Christianity. The ancient covenant involves a whole series of covenants that still exist side by side today. And so the covenant of Adam, or rather of Noah, subsists in the archaic religions, those of India especially, with their cosmic symbolism [...].

We know that light radiates from a face. It took the covenant of Abraham, and it needed to be renewed in Islam. That of Moses subsists in Judaism [...].

But Christ recapitulated everything. The Logos who became flesh is he who creates the universe and manifests himself there, and he is also the Word who guides history through the prophets [...].

That is why I consider Christianity the religion of religions, and I happen to say that I belong to all religions'.

It is the Dream of each and all, in Christ already introduced into the bosom of the Eternal One who is convincing and lovable, because He is Comprehensive [not in the sense of paternalism eventually good-naturedly bestowed, but of Being].

As Pope Francis pointed out:

"In life bears fruit not he who has so many riches, but he who creates and keeps alive so many bonds, so many relationships, so many friendships through the different 'riches', that is, the different Gifts with which God has endowed him."

Only in this way will we - all of us in the Son - become special Events of the Word-flesh: small fish, but with full rights to the pre-eminence of the Logos... coryphaeans of impossible recoveries.

We have in common the displacement. Fine "Word" on univocity.

To internalise and live the message:

How do you start your days? Do you welcome your guests (even emptiness)? Or do you face them with excessive judgement?

Light and Treasure

Spark of beauty and humanism, or no future

(Jn 8:12-20)

In all religions the term Light is used as a metaphor for the forces of good.

On the lips of Jesus [present in his intimates] the same word stands for a fulfilment of humanity (even of the religious institution) according to the divine plan, recognisable in his own Person.

The distinction between light and darkness in Christ is somehow not comparable to the more conventional dualist binomial - about good and evil. The Creator's activity is multifaceted.

The evangelical term therefore does not designate any static fixed judgement on what is usually assessed as 'torch' or 'shadow', 'correct' or 'wrong' and so on.

There is room for new perceptions and reworkings. Nor are we always called upon to fight against everything else, and the passions.

Classical moral, pious or general religious evaluations must be overcome, because they remain on the surface and do not grasp the core of being and becoming humanising.

Not infrequently, the most valuable things arise precisely from what disturbs standardised thinking.

The same mind that believes it is only in the light is a one-sided, partial, sick mind; bound to an idea, therefore poor.

God knows that it is the incompletenesses that launch the Exodus, it can be the insecurities that keep us from crashing into the patterns... that make us lose who we are.

In fact, the energies that invest created reality have an entirely positive potential root.

Sunsets prepare other paths, ambivalences give the 'la' to impossible recoveries and growths.

"Light" was in Judaism the term that designated the righteous path of humanity according to the Law, without eccentricity or decline.But with Jesus, it is no longer the Torah that acts as a guide, but life itself [Jn 1:4: "Life was the Light of men"] that is characterised by its varying complexity.

Thus, even the "world" - that is, (in Jn) first and foremost the complex of the institution (so pious and devout) now installed and corrupted: it must return to a wiser Guide, one that illuminates real existence.

The appeal that Scripture addresses to us is very practical and concrete.

But in contexts with a strong structure of mediation between God and man, spirituality often tends towards the legalism of customary fulfilments.

Jesus is not for grand parades, nor for solutions that cloak people's lives in mysticism, escapism, rituals or abstinence.

All of this was perhaps also the fabric of much of medieval spirituality - and the assiduous, ritualistic, beghine spirituality of days gone by.

But in the Bible, God's servants do not have haloes. They are women and men normally inserted in society, people who know the problems of everyday life: work, family, bringing up children....

The professionals of the sacred, on the other hand, try to put a pretty dress on very ungodly things - sometimes cunning minds and perverse hearts. Cultivated behind the magnificent respectability of screens and incense.

To do this, Jesus understands that he must drive out both merchants and customers (Jn 2:13-25) and supplant the fatuous glow of the great sanctuary.

During the Feast of Tabernacles, huge street lamps were lit in the courtyards of the Temple in Jerusalem.

One of the main rituals consisted in staging an admirable night procession with lit fairies - and in making the great lamps shine (they rose above the walls and illuminated the whole of Jerusalem).

It was the appropriate context to proclaim the very Person of Christ as the authentic sacred and humanising Word, the place of encounter with God and the torch of life. There was nothing external and rhetorical about it.

But in that "holy world" marked by the intertwining of epic, religion, power and interest, the Master stands out - with contrary evidence - precisely in the place of the Treasury (the real centre of gravity of the Temple, v.20) as the true and only Extreme Point that pierces the darkness.

The Lord invites us to make our own his own sharply missionary path: from the shrine of stone to the heart of flesh, as free as that of the Father.

Clear call and intimate question that never goes out: we feel it burning alive without being consumed.

There is no need to fear: the Envoy is not alone. He does not testify to himself, nor to his own foibles or utopian derangements: his Calling by Name becomes divine Presence - Origin, Path, authentic "Return".

Do we look like pilgrims and exiles who do not know how to be in "the world"? But each of us is (in Faith) like Him-and-the-Father: overwhelming majority.

By Faith, in the authentic Light: Dawn, Support, Friendship and unequivocal, invincible leap, which rips through the haze.

It bursts from the core, assuming the same shadows and being reborn; bringing our dark sides alongside the roots.

Intimate place and time (outside of all ages) from which the outgoing Church springs forth: here it is from the jewels and sacristies, to the peripheries Spark of beauty and humanism, or without a future

And from the sacred society of the outside, to the hidden Pearl that genuinely connects the present with the 'timelessness' of the Free - even if here and there it undermines so much theology with its preceptistic, greedy and cunning meaning, neither plural nor transparent.

In the end, it is all simple: the full wellbeing and integrity of man is more important than the one-sided 'good' of doctrine and institution - which advocates it without even believing in it.

To internalise and live the message:

In what situations do I consider myself a "Witness"?

What is the torch in my steps? Who is my Present Light?

Mysticism of Coversion-Light: the unseen spaces of growth

Waiting and Receiving (the taste of God, in Rebirth)

(Jn 12:44-50)

"He that despiseth me, and receiveth not my words, hath he that judgeth him: the Word that I have spoken, that shall judge him in the last day" (v.48).

"And I know that his Commandment is the Life of the LORD. The things therefore that I proclaim, as the Father has spoken to me, so I proclaim" (v.50).

We are at the end of the Book of Signs (Jn 2-12) which is followed by the so-called time of the Hour.

The particular Gospel passage of Jn 12 acts as an inclusion to the Prologue, and introduces the final drama of Christ - with all the weight of unbelief already perceived.

But it is a primordial imprint, also for us, generated to life by the animation in the Spirit of the Son, to be sent to the Annunciation (of likeness, not obedience).

Like Him we are in God, and together... for the women and men of every time and culture.

Therefore, Jesus' "cry" (v.44) is a privileged "clamour", of decisive self-presentation, as well as of unprecedented revelation of the very Life of the Eternal already present here (v.50) within ourselves.He who acts in the name of Risen Love, brings forth the glad tidings of resurrection and deliverance, and the definitive approval of the Father.

We are no longer in the world as a function of God (as in religions) but live with Him and of Him - for the Message and Mission: the complete humanisation, emancipation, redemption of mankind.

Father and Son are One. Jesus reflects God, brings Him closer to us; He reveals and communicates Him to us, without a gap.

So for us "Seeing" Christ means believing him, that is, grasping the glorious outcome of a life that seemed destined for insignificance.

The indispensable Light of the Lord not only dispels the darkness, but uncovers, encounters and transforms it from within. And unbelief becomes Faith - like a Womb of gestations, gifts of new Creation.

Our fate and quality of believing life is tightly decided in the confrontation between two motions: pious life, or Vision-Faith. The latter able to unleash dilations and ministerial imperatives.

This dilemma acts as a dividing line: between a life as saved now, and doubt about future destiny. A question typical of empty spirituality - or of romantic visions that after the first enthusiasms lead to groping in the dark, in dissatisfaction.

Original adherence to Christ is in the state of the Task, germinated in the bosom - not planned at the table nor prepared on the sidelines without the faces, the ways, and with only national or local history - or mannerisms.

In Christ we do not eagerly cling to ourselves, to the conforming environment, to ancient knowledge or to the most reassuring fashion. We are prepared for an itinerary of continuous beginnings, as if on the trail of guide-images (changing, but knowing where to go).

We will encounter the Action of God that saves... precisely in the unexpected territories that transcend the sanctuary of habits. And in the ways that gloss over our old intentions - though in themselves confessional, plausible, or even noble.

The Law chock-full of chiselled verdicts is outdated (v.47). Christ did not come to accuse us of inadequacy and punish us: on the contrary, to make us invent ways - and unheard-of torches.

Criterion of 'judgement' is the Word and his Person, transparency of the Father - absolute, genuine and free coincidence. He as the Eternal One comes for surpassing Life; and new Light.

Not to regard him as a seal of exception, a step and rhythm to be reinterpreted, and not to give him space as an intrinsic trait, motive and motor, is to dissipate in vain the best energies - which make us wander, yes, but to lead to fullness.

The world is not all there is: there is a clarity (v.46) that makes one feel at home and can dispel all disturbance, closure and darkness.

This is the great 'conversion', the mindset to be renewed, enjoying the Call to the full.

Life in Christ is not - as in various archaic religious forms - restricted against oneself and the world.

It is to assert the Action of the Father (vv.43-44.49-50) who has disposed that even eccentricities, hardships, discomforts may convey to us the idea, the taste, of a different fulfilment; open spaces of unexpressed growth.

The Inner Friend mysteriously leads to the crumbling of the proud self that rushes to adjust according to conventional and other people's opinions - so that we allow ourselves to radiate.

It is this eminent and intense Self of uniqueness that will make us grasp the astonishing (impossible) fruitfulness of victory in defeat, of triumph through loss, of life amidst signs of death.

By thinning out the Call of Darkness, we risk pushing away the new Light, a further genesis of ourselves, an evolution different from the usual expectations - which would really comfort and fulfil us.

By removing the perception of wounds we risk annihilating the healing and rebirth process of the soul.

This is the new decisive Conversion: the true emptying out of one's own plans, ideas and tastes, in order to be inspired by the unthinkable divine Work within us - which does not want to weaken the self but strengthen it with other capacities.

The fullness of extraordinary Light is in Christ a simple (but inverted) self-denial: granting space and time to that Totality that does not take over the Person.

As in Jesus, then it will allow for authenticity and much more than minimal wavering lights, products of a small brain (which does not evolve).

Struggling with symptoms would end up chronicising them - with the drug of ancient or immediately at hand remedies.

It would make us become external and extinguish the inner Genesis, which tinkles with the Coming Work.

In Christ we know the secret of welcoming conversion: the kingdom we do not see can take care of us and the world (vv.47-48).

It is this reference to the Mystery (which calls) that congenital Seed that realises the evolution of the cosmos and of each one, because it possesses the Sense of springing authenticity - and it will bear its Fruit.In the Faith "spark, / which expands into flame then lively / and like a star in heaven in me sparkles" (Dante, Paradise c.XXIV).

To internalise and live the message:

What light did you anticipate cured you and vice versa chronicled your situation? What external crutch has addicted you and made you lame?

Dear Brothers and Sisters, 

Today the liturgy proposes anew for our meditation the same Gospel as that proclaimed on Christmas Day: the Prologue of St John. After the commotion of the recent days with the race to purchase gifts, the Church invites us once again to contemplate the mystery of Christ's Nativity, to understand even better its profound meaning and importance to our lives. This is a wonderful text that offers an impressive synthesis of the whole of the Christian faith. It starts from on high: "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God" (Jn 1: 1); and this is the unheard of and humanly inconceivable news: "the Word became flesh and dwelt among us" (Jn 1: 14a). It is not a rhetorical figure but a lived experience! And it is John, an eyewitness, who tells of it. "We have beheld his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father... full of grace and truth" (Jn 1: 14). These are not the learned words of a rabbi or doctor of law but rather the passionate witness of a humble fisherman. Attracted in his youth by Jesus of Nazareth, in the three years he spent living with him and with the other Apostles, John experienced his love, to the extent that he called himself "the disciple Jesus loved" saw him die on the Cross and appear Risen, and then with the others received his Spirit. From his heart's meditation on the whole of this experience, John drew a deep conviction: Jesus is the Wisdom of God incarnate, he is his eternal Word who became a mortal man. 

For a true Israelite who knows the Sacred Scriptures, this is not a contradiction; on the contrary, it is the fulfilment of the whole of the old Covenant. The mystery of a God who speaks to men and women as his friends, who reveals himself to Moses in the Law, to the wise and the prophets, reaches fulfilment in Christ. In knowing Jesus, in being with him, hearing his preaching and seeing the signs he performed, the disciples recognized that all the Scriptures were fulfilled in him. As a Christian author was later to affirm: "The whole of divine Scripture constitutes one book and this one book is Christ, it speaks of Christ and finds its fulfilment in Christ" (cf. Ugo di San Vittore, De arca Noe, 2, 8). Every man and every woman needs to find a profound meaning for their life. And this is why books do not suffice, not even the Sacred Scriptures. The Child of Bethlehem reveals and communicates to us the true "Face" of a good and faithful God, who loves us and even in death does not abandon us. "No one has ever seen God," concludes John's Prologue; "the only Son, who is in the bosom of the Father, he has made him known" (Jn 1: 18). 

The first to open her heart and to contemplate "the Word who became flesh" was Mary, Mother of Jesus. A humble girl from Galilee, she thus became the "Seat of Wisdom"! Like the Apostle John, each one of us is invited to "[take] her to his own home" (Jn 19: 27), to know Jesus deeply and to experience his faithful and inexhaustible love. And this is my wish for each one of you, dear brothers and sisters, at the beginning of this new year.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 4 January 2009]