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

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

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

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

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

*Responsorial Psalm (111/112)

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

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

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

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

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

+Giovanni D'Ercole

Presentation of Jesus at the Temple [2 February 2026]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

+Giovanni D'Ercole

Sober, but in sandals

(Mk 6:7-13)

The passage of Nazareth - painful for Jesus himself - and the description of the disciples sending, was intended to be a support and light for believers.

The Son of God is rejected by his own people, and what was his country before is no longer.

We must not therefore be discouraged: conflicts force us to be face to face with new ways of being (and opportunities for Communion).

In the relationship with the Father and the circumstances, no one get by on his own, perhaps centering existence on goals and only on himself - or changing residence (v. 10) and then looking for excessive instruments to establish himself [under the pretext of ‘effectiveness’].

The witness of Christ is profound and relational to the point of coexistence; non-individualistic: to be faced by showing reciprocity, capacity for non-alienating exchange; at least between two (v.7).

Furthermore, the goal cannot be pursued if life is disintegrated by the opinions around it, and devoid of any principle of relationships transformation - an expression of the Covenant that arouses spirit of fraternity.

As well as a propulsive “model”, a “principle” of analysis and prognosis for problem-solving, and for a future of coexistence; through a completion of self-recognised 'opposing sides' [through micro-relationships].

In all religions, the ideal of perfection is the achievement of one's own purification, advancement, balance.

But this is not enough for we to proclaim that the Kingdom has come!  It’s the result of an artisanal process, carried out in stages and attempts;  of Love, in the Exodus.

In this way, the Risen One has invested us with a quiet but irresistible and evident strength: his effective Word.

Logos that in us becomes lucidity, charge, impulse, ability to listen [which puts us back on our feet; together, in a position to manage things]: a compassionate power never seen before.

The proposal of the Gospels presupposes a spirit of sobriety, risk, royal fraternity: in this way environments are evangelized, transmitting passion for life and annihilating the forces of death that distance us from our neighbor.

Trusting in hospitality and sharing, the new missionaries finally disregard legalistic purity standards (v.8) and show a different access to purity itself, to relationships, to intimacy with the Father.

Therefore, essential ingredients for building the community elsewhere are: being satisfied and renouncing ambition, sharing also in culture [giving space to all intuitions]; familiarity in normal jobs and wages; welcoming the excluded.

As in the Semitic community, the new ‘envoys’ must become close brothers, defenders and redeemers (Go’el) of the marginalized. In this sense, we too personify the figure of Christ in history and contexts.

Protecting the poor and needy (v.13) unfolds the teaching and work of Jesus, who had done so much to stem the disintegration of community life - then affected by political, economic and religious servility.

Therefore, avoiding the ambiguity of riches, the children of God would not have nourished the instinct to dominate others.

Unfortunately, whoever is a friend of triumphalism and possesses in excess, will easily miss the main thing, characteristic of credibility: trust in Providence - the only spirit that doesn’t invalidate the situation.

Jesus warns us, so that we do not deny him with our grabbing behavior, lover of luxury, ready both to deferences and to indulge in power games;  performing at all costs, always anxious for the role and economic levels.

Of course, the Son of God dreams a poor Church [not only ‘of the poor’] - but he grants an element of opulence for us, indeed he wants it: that we wear sandals (v. 9); at that time in Rome a sign of freedom and dignity not beggar).

Yes, because we have to rediscover the human - and walk a lot.

[Thursday 4th wk.  in O.T.  February 5, 2026]

Sober, but with sandals

(Mk 6:7-13)

And I and You

Truth is not at all what I have. It is not at all what you have. It is what unites us in suffering, in joy. It is what unites us in our union, in the pain and pleasure we give birth to. Neither I nor You. And me and You. Our common work, permanent amazement. Its name is Wisdom.

(Irénée Guilane Dioh)

Mk wrote his Gospel for the Roman communities, at a time when they seemed to have no future. Yet, they lived through this trying situation without shouting.

Nero began persecuting the small fraternities in 64. The following year, the Jewish revolt broke out. In the short period of the four Caesars, civil war reached its peak in Rome. In 70 Jerusalem was razed to the ground.

The passage from Nazareth - painful for Jesus himself - and the description of the sending of the disciples, was intended to be a support and light for the believers.

The Son of God [and in him anyone who authentically witnesses to him] is rejected by his own people, and what used to be his country is now no more.

This is not to be discouraged: conflicts force one to come face to face with new ways of being.

Despite the difficulties that in themselves would only create emotional traps, any situation is not without an orientation and precious horizons of new lightness, of the possibility of surrender that brings one back to life; above all, of true Communion.

In the relationship with the Father and circumstances, no one gets by on his own, perhaps by centring existence on goals and only on himself - or by changing residence (v.10) and then seeking excessive means to establish himself [under the pretext of effectiveness].

The witness of Christ is profound, and relational to the point of coexistence (even more than day-by-day); not individualistic: to be approached by showing reciprocity, a capacity for non-alienating exchange - at least between two (v.7).

It is in the face of a travelling companion that opposites are recognised [the same poles that inhabit each soul, in secret...].

The goal, then, cannot be pursued if the head remains disintegrated by the opinions around it, and the desire devoid of any principle of transforming relations - an expression of the Covenant that still arouses collaboration, a spirit of fraternity, a path.

Therefore 'model', 'principle' of analysis and prognosis for the solution of problems, and for a future of coexistence; through a completion of 'opposite sides' recognised in themselves [through micro-relationships].

In all religions, the ideal of perfection is the attainment of one's own purification, advancement, balance.

But this is not enough for us to proclaim that the Kingdom has come! It is the fruit of craftsmanship, of a journey carried out as in stages and attempts; of Love, in the Exodus.

In this way, the Risen One has invested us with a quiet but irresistible and evident force: his efficacious Word.

Word that in us becomes lucidity, charge, impetus, the ability to listen [which puts us back on our feet; at the same time, it enables us to handle things]: a compassionate power never seen before.

The proposal of the Gospels presupposes a spirit of sobriety, risk, royal empathy: this is how we evangelise environments, transmitting passion for life and annihilating the forces of death that alienate our neighbour.

By trusting in hospitality and sharing, the new missionaries finally disregard the norms of religious purity (v.8) and show a different access to the same purity, to relationships, to intimacy with the Father.

Thus, essential ingredients for building community elsewhere [and everywhere] are: contentment and renouncing ambition, sharing even in culture [giving space to all insights], familiarity in normal work and compensation; welcoming the excluded.

As in the Semitic community mentality, the new 'envoys' must make themselves the next brothers, defenders and redeemers (Go'el) of the marginalised. In this sense, we too personify the Christ figure in history and contexts.

By protecting the wretched and needy (v.13), we unfold the teaching and work of Jesus, who had done so much to stem the disintegration of community life - at that time marred by political, economic and religious servility.

The witnesses have eyes unclouded by habitual thinking: they see the divine in the soul of the seemingly summary human.

Thus - avoiding the ambiguity of riches - God's children would not have nurtured the instinct of domination over others.

Not everyone feels the call to voluntary renunciation, but each must ask himself whether material goods generate the false security and [in fact] slavery that then blocks the inclination to service.

Unfortunately, those who are friends of triumphalism and possess in excess, easily lack the main thing, which is characteristic of credibility: trust in Providence - the only spirit that does not vitiate the situation. 

All the Founders had the same concern as the Lord: not to contradict what was being proclaimed, and to have a free heart.

The Kingdom of God is made present in sobriety more than in abundance, and in the spirit of friendship more than in distinction: this is the new teaching of the Faith, compared to widespread beliefs.

In a situation almost three centuries later, which was rapidly beginning to deteriorate, Hilary of Poitiers thus denounced the seductions of power towards church leaders - already established - to whom the ancient order willingly began to grant lavish privileges (in order to instrumentalise them):

"We do not have an anti-Christian emperor [Constantius II, son of Constantine I]; we used to be persecuted, but now we have to fight against an even more insidious persecutor, against an enemy who does not beat us but flatters us, does not scourge our backs but caresses our bellies; does not confiscate our goods, for then he would give us life, but enriches us, to give us death, to make us become evangelical counter-witnesses. He does not push us towards freedom by putting us in prison, but enslaves us, inviting us to the palace and filling us with honours. He does not strike our bodies, but takes possession of our hearts; he does not cut off our heads with the sword, but kills our souls with money'.

So much for the spirit of dispossession, preached outwardly or to subordinates only!

Commenting on the Tao Tê Ching (xx), Master Wang Pi acknowledges:

"The Tao, the nurturing mother, is the foundation of life. But all men put on one side the foundation that makes people live, and cherish the flourishes of the accessory and the tinsel'.

Jesus warns, lest we disprove him with our grasping, luxury-loving behaviour, ready both for deference and pandering to power games; performing at all costs, always scrambling for role and economic levels.

"I dream of a free and credible Church, a Church that is poor and for the poor!" - stressed Pope Francis immediately after his election as pontiff.

Of course, the Son of God dreams of a poor Church [not just 'of the poor'] - but an element of opulence for us he concedes, indeed he wants it: that we wear sandals (v.9); at that time in Rome a sign of freedom and dignity not begging).

Yes, because we must rediscover the human - and walk a lot.

To internalise and live the message:

How do you participate in the Mission of Jesus and the disciples? How can you avoid cultural, doctrinal or charismatic closures (already all designed-regulated), and live the universality of the new humanisation?

In this […] Gospel, Jesus takes the initiative of sending the Twelve Apostles out on mission (cf. Mk 6:7-13). In fact the term “apostles” means, precisely, “messengers” or “envoys”. Their vocation was to be fully achieved only after Christ’s Resurrection with the gift of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. Yet it is very significant that Jesus wants to involve the Twelve in his action from the outset: it is a sort of “apprenticeship” with a view to the great responsibility that awaited them. The fact that Jesus calls certain disciples to collaborate directly in his mission demonstrates one aspect of his love, namely, he does not spurn the help that other people can contribute to his work; he knows their limitations, their weaknesses, but bears no contempt for them. On the contrary Jesus confers on them the dignity of being his envoys. He sends them out two by two and gives them instructions which the Evangelist sums up in a few sentences. The first concerns the spirit of detachment: the Apostles must not be attached to money or to other comforts. Then Jesus warns the disciples that they will not always receive a favourable welcome. Sometimes they will be rejected; they might even be persecuted. However this must not frighten them: they must speak in Jesus’ name and preach the Kingdom of God without being worried about whether or not they will succeed. Succeed — its success must be left to God [...].

Jesus warns the Twelve that in some places they may be rejected. Should this be the case, they are to go elsewhere, having shaken the dust from their feet in public. This sign expresses detachment in two senses: moral detachment — as if to say it is you who have refused the proclamation offered to you — and material detachment. We did not seek and do not want anything for ourselves (cf. Mk 6:11).

The other very important instruction in the Gospel passage is that the Twelve must not be content with preaching conversion. They must accompany their preaching, in accordance with Jesus’ instructions and example, with care for the sick, with caring for those who are sick in body and in spirit. It speaks of the healing of illnesses and also of driving out demons, that is, of purifying the human mind, cleansing, cleansing the eyes of the soul that are clouded by ideologies and hence cannot see God, cannot see truth and justice. This twofold corporal and spiritual healing is always the mandate of Christ’s disciples. Hence the apostolic mission must always include the two aspects of preaching God’s word and of showing his goodness in gestures of charity, service and dedication.

[Pope Benedict, Frascati homily 15 July 2012]

7. The urgency of missionary activity derives from the radical newness of life brought by Christ and lived by his followers. This new life is a gift from God, and people are asked to accept and develop it, if they wish to realize the fullness of their vocation in conformity to Christ. The whole New Testament is a hymn to the new life of those who believe in Christ and live in his Church. Salvation in Christ, as witnessed to and proclaimed by the Church, is God's self-communication: "It is love which not only creates the good, but also grants participation in the very life of God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. For he who loves desires to give himself."

God offers mankind this newness of life. "Can one reject Christ and everything that he has brought about in the history of mankind? Of course one can. Man is free. He can say 'no' to God. He can say 'no' to Christ. But the fundamental question remains: Is it legitimate to do this? And what would make it legitimate?"

8. In the modern world there is a tendency to reduce man to his horizontal dimension alone. But without an openness to the Absolute, what does man become? The answer to this question is found in the experience of every individual, but it is also written in the history of humanity with the blood shed in the name of ideologies or by political regimes which have sought to build a "new humanity" without God.

Moreover, the Second Vatican Council replies to those concerned with safeguarding freedom of conscience: "The human person has a right to religious freedom.... All should have such immunity from coercion by individuals, or by groups, or by any human power, that no one should be forced to act against his conscience in religious matters, nor prevented from acting according to his conscience, whether in private or in public, whether alone or in association with others, within due limits."

Proclaiming Christ and bearing witness to him, when done in a way that respects consciences, does not violate freedom. Faith demands a free adherence on the part of man, but at the same time faith must also be offered to him, because the "multitudes have the right to know the riches of the mystery of Christ-riches in which we believe that the whole of humanity can find, in unsuspected fullness, everything that it is gropingly searching for concerning God, man and his destiny, life and death, and truth.... This is why the Church keeps her missionary spirit alive, and even wishes to intensify it in the moment of history in which we are living." But it must also be stated, again with the Council, that "in accordance with their dignity as persons, equipped with reason and free will and endowed with personal responsibility, all are impelled by their own nature and are bound by a moral obligation to seek truth, above all religious truth. They are further bound to hold to the truth once it is known, and to regulate their whole lives by its demands.".

[Pope John Paul II, Redemptoris Missio]

I am glad to be able to keep the Sunday Angelus appointment, even here from “Gemelli” Polyclinic. I thank you all: I have felt your closeness and the support of your prayers. Thank you from the bottom of my heart!

The Gospel passage we read today in the Liturgy recounts that Jesus’ disciples, sent by him, “anointed with oil many that were sick and healed them” (Mk 6:13). This “oil” also makes us think of the Sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick, which gives comfort to spirit and body. But this “oil” is also listening, the closeness, the care, the tenderness of those who take care of the sick person: it is like a caress that makes you feel better, soothes your pain and cheers you up. All of us, all, need this “anointing” of closeness and tenderness sooner or later, and we can all give it to someone else, with a visit, a phone call, a hand outstretched to someone who needs help. Let us remember that, in the protocol of the final judgment — Matthew 25 — one of the things they will ask us will be about closeness to the sick.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 11 July 2021]

Apprenticeship: radiating from a Face, from a Centre

Today’s Gospel passage (cf. Mk 6:7-13) narrates the moment Jesus sends the Twelve [Apostles] on mission. After calling each of them by name “to be with him” (Mk 3:14), listening to his words and observing his gestures of healing, he now calls them again to “send them out two by two” (6:7) to the villages he was going to visit. It is a sort of “internship” of what they would be called to do following the Resurrection of the Lord, through the power of the Holy Spirit.

The Gospel passage pauses on the style of the missionary which we can sum up in two points: the mission has a centre; the mission has a face.

First of all, the missionary disciple has his centre of reference who is Jesus himself. The narrative indicates this by using a series of verbs which have him as the subject — “He called to him”; he “began to send them”; he “gave them authority”; “he charged them”, “he said to them” (vv. 7, 8, 10) —, so that the going out and working of the Twelve appears to be radiating from a centre, reaffirming the presence and work of Jesus in their missionary actions. This demonstrates that the Apostles have nothing of their own to proclaim, nor any abilities to manifest, but rather that they speak and act as “emissaries”, as messengers of Jesus.

This episode of the Gospel also applies to us and not only to priests but to all baptized people called to witness to the Gospel of Christ in the various spheres of life. And for us too, this mission is authentic only in so far as its unchanging centre who is Jesus. It is not an initiative of faithful individuals nor of groups and not even of large gatherings. It is the mission of the Church, inseparably united to her Lord. No Christian proclaims the Gospel “on his/her own”, but is only sent by the Church who received the mandate from Jesus himself. Indeed it is Baptism that makes us missionaries. A baptized person who does not feel the need to proclaim the Gospel, to proclaim Jesus, is not a good Christian.

The second characteristic of the missionary’s style is, so to speak, a face, which consists in the poverty of means. His accoutrement responds to a criteria of modesty. Indeed the Twelve have the order to “take nothing for their journey except a staff; no bread, no bag, no money in their belts” (6:8). The Teacher wants them to be free and unhampered, without reserves and without favours, certain only of the love of the One who sends them, strengthened only by his Word which they go to proclaim. The staff and the sandals are the gear of pilgrims because that is what the messengers of the Kingdom of God are, not omnipotent managers, not irreplaceable officials, not celebrities on tour. Let us think for example of this Diocese of which I am Bishop. Let us think about some saints from this Diocese of Rome: Saint Philip Neri, Saint Benedict Joseph Labre, Saint Alessio, Blessed Ludovica Albertoni, Saint Frances of Rome, Saint Gaspare del Bufalo and many others. They were not officials or business people, but rather humble workers of the Kingdom. This was the face they had. And to this “face” also belongs the way the message is received: it can happen that one is not welcomed or listened to (cf. v. 11). This too is poverty: the experience of failure. The experience of Jesus who was rejected and crucified anticipates the destiny of his messenger. And only if we are united to Him, who died and Rose, can we find the courage to evangelize.

May the Virgin Mary, the first disciple and missionary of the Word of God, help us to convey to the world the message of the Gospel in a humble and radiant exultation, beyond any rejection, misunderstanding or tribulation.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 15 July 2018]

Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A)  [1 February 2026]

May God bless us and may the Virgin protect us. Rereading and meditating on the Beatitudes in Matthew's Gospel is always an invitation to rediscover the heart of the Gospel faith and to have the courage to live it faithfully.

*First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Zephaniah (2:3; 3:12-13)

The Book of Zephaniah is striking for its sharp contrasts: on the one hand, there are terrible threats against Jerusalem, with the prophet appearing very angry; on the other hand, there are encouragements and promises of a happy future, always directed at the city. The question is: to whom are the threats addressed and to whom the encouragement? Historically, we are in the 7th century BC, in the kingdom of Judah, the southern kingdom. The young king Josiah ascends the throne at the age of eight, after the assassination of his father, in very turbulent times. The Assyrian empire, with its capital at Nineveh, is expanding, and local kings often prefer to surrender to avoid destruction: Jerusalem becomes a vassal of Nineveh. The prophets, however, firmly support the freedom of the chosen people: asking for an alliance with an earthly king means not trusting in the King of heaven. Accepting Assyrian protection was not only a political act, but also entailed the cultural and religious influence of the ruler, with the risk of idolatry and the loss of Israel's mission. Zephaniah denounced all this and prophesied punishment: 'I will raise my hand against Judah and against all the inhabitants of Jerusalem... on the day of the Lord's wrath' (Zephaniah 1:4-6), a text reminiscent of the famous Dies Irae. Seek the Lord, all you humble of the land. Alongside the threats, Zephaniah addresses a message of comfort to the "humble of the land" (in Hebrew anawim, the bowed down), who are law-abiding and righteous, and therefore protected from the Day of the Lord's wrath: God himself is with them. It is the day when creation will be renewed and evil destroyed. The message is not for others, but for each one of us: we are all called to conversion, to become "the humble of the land," the "Remnant of Israel" that the previous prophets had announced. God, who is faithful, will always save at least a small group that has remained faithful. It will be this small remnant, poor and humble, that will carry on the mission of the chosen people: to reveal God's plan to the world. Being humble means recognising one's own limitations (humus) and trusting totally in God. Thus, God's judgement is not against people, but against the evil that corrupts. The small faithful remnant will be the leaven in the world, preserving the true identity of the people and the divine mission. God's wrath strikes only evil, never the innocent. Zephaniah also criticises the adoption of Assyrian customs, such as foreign clothing (Zeph 1:8): it was not just fashion, but a sign of imitation of the pagans, a risk of losing identity and faith.

*Responsorial Psalm (145/146)

Here we have three verses from the Psalm as an inventory of the beneficiaries of God's mercy: the oppressed, the hungry, the chained, the blind, the afflicted, the strangers, the widows and the orphans—all those whom men ignore or despise. The Israelites know these situations because they have experienced them: oppression in Egypt, then in Babylon. The Psalm was written after the return from the Babylonian exile, perhaps for the dedication of the rebuilt Temple. Liberation from evil and oppression is perceived as proof of God's faithfulness to the covenant: "The Lord brings justice to the oppressed, the Lord frees those in chains." God also provides for material needs: during the Exodus, he fed the people with manna and quails. Gradually, God reveals himself to the blind, lifts up the afflicted and guides the people towards justice: 'God loves the righteous'. The Psalm is therefore a song of gratitude: "The Lord brings justice to the oppressed / gives bread to the hungry / frees those in chains / opens the eyes of the blind / lifts up those who are afflicted / loves the righteous / protects the stranger / supports widows and orphans. The Lord is your God forever." The insistence on the name Lord (7 times) recalls the sacred Tetragrammaton YHVH, revealed to Moses at the burning bush, symbol of God's constant and liberating presence. "The Lord is your God forever," the final phrase recalls the Covenant: "You shall be my people, and I will be your God." The Psalm looks to the future, strengthening the hope of the people. The name of God Ehiè asher ehiè (I am who I am / I will be who I will be) emphasises his eternal presence. Repeating this Psalm serves to recognise God's work and to guide conduct: if God has acted in this way towards Israel, the people must behave in the same way towards others, especially the excluded. The Law of Israel provided rules to protect widows, orphans, and foreigners, so that the people would be free and respectful of the freedom of others. The prophets judged fidelity to the Covenant mainly on the basis of attitude towards the poor and oppressed: the fight against idolatry, the promotion of justice and mercy, as in Hos 6:6 (I desire mercy, not sacrifice) and Mic 6:8 (Act justly, love mercy, walk humbly with God). Sirach also reminds us: 'The tears of the widow flow down the face of God' (Si 35:18), emphasising that those who are close to God must feel compassion for those who suffer.

*Second Reading from the First Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Corinthians (1:26-31).

It would seem to be the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector: the world is 'turned upside down'. Those who appear wise in the eyes of men, as Paul points out, are not considered worthy before God. This does not mean that Paul despises wisdom: since the time of King Solomon, it has been a virtue sought after in prayer, and Isaiah presents it as a gift of the Spirit of God: 'The Spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him, the spirit of wisdom and discernment...' The Bible distinguishes between two types of wisdom: the wisdom of men and the wisdom of God. What seems reasonable in the eyes of men may be far from God's plan, and what is wise in the eyes of God may appear foolish to men. Our logic is human, God's is the logic of love: the folly of divine love, as Paul says, surpasses all human reasoning. This is why the life and death of Christ may seem scandalous. Isaiah says it clearly: "My thoughts are not your thoughts, and your ways are not my ways" (Is 55:8). This distance between human and divine thought is such that Jesus goes so far as to rebuke Peter: "Get behind me, Satan! You are not thinking according to God, but according to men" (Mt 16:23). God is the "All-Other": the hierarchy of human values is overturned before him. Often in the history of the Covenant, God chooses the least: think of David, the youngest of Jesse's sons, or the people of Israel, "the least of all" (Deut 7:7; Deut 9:6). God's choices are gratuitous, independent of human merit. True wisdom, divine wisdom, is a gift from We cannot understand God with our own strength: everything we know about Him is revealed to us by Him. Paul reminds the Corinthians that all knowledge of God is a gift: "In him you have received every spiritual blessing... you are not lacking in any spiritual gift" (1 Cor 1:4-7). The gift of knowledge of God is not a reason for pride, but for gratitude. As Jeremiah says: "Let not the wise man boast of his wisdom... but of having the intelligence to know me, the Lord" (Jer 9:22-23). Paul applies these principles to the Corinthians: in the eyes of the world, they were neither wise, nor powerful, nor noble. Yet God calls them, creating his Church out of their poverty and weakness. Their 'nobility' is Baptism. Corinth becomes an example of God's surprising initiative, recreating the world according to his logic, inviting men not to boast before God, but to give him glory for his love.

*From the Gospel according to Matthew (5:1-12a)

 I pause to reflect on the beatitude that may seem most difficult: 'Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted' (Mt 5:4). It is not a question of rejoicing in mourning itself, nor of considering suffering as good fortune. Jesus himself devoted much of his life to comforting, healing and encouraging people: Matthew reminds us that 'Jesus proclaimed the Good News of the Kingdom and healed every disease and infirmity among the people' (Mt 4:23). The tears Jesus speaks of are, rather, tears of repentance and tears of compassion. Think of St Peter, who wept bitterly after his denial, finding consolation in God's mercy. Or remember the vision of the prophet Ezekiel: on the last day, God "will mark with a cross on the forehead those who groan and lament over the abominations that are committed" (Ezekiel 9:4). These words of Jesus were addressed to his Jewish contemporaries, who were accustomed to the preaching of the prophets. For us, understanding them means rereading the Old Testament. As the prophet Zephaniah invites us: 'Seek the Lord, all you humble of the earth' (Zeph 2:3). And the psalm sings: “I have asked one thing of the Lord: to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life” (Ps 145/146:5). These are the true “poor in spirit,” those who entrust themselves completely to God, like the tax collector in the parable: aware of their sins, they open themselves to the Lord’s salvation. Jesus assures us that those who seek God with all their heart will be heard: "Seek and you will find; knock and it will be opened to you" (Mt 7:7). And the prophets call those whose hearts are turned solely to God "pure". The Beatitudes, therefore, are Good News: it is not power, knowledge or wealth that leads us to the Kingdom, but gentleness, mercy and justice. As Jesus says to his disciples: " I am sending you out like lambs among wolves” (Lk 10:3). Each beatitude points to a path towards the Kingdom: each “Blessed” is an invitation, an encouragement: it is as if it were saying, “take courage, you are on the right path”. Our weaknesses become fertile ground for God’s presence: poverty of heart, tears, hunger for justice, persecution. Paul reminds us: “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord” (1 Cor 1:31). Finally, let us remember that Jesus is the perfect model: poor in heart, gentle, merciful, compassionate, just and persecuted, always grateful to the Father. His life teaches us to look at ourselves and others through the eyes of God, and to discover the Kingdom where we least expect it.

St Augustine writes in his commentary on this beatitude: "Blessed, says the Lord, are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. He does not refer to bodily sadness, but to the sorrow of the heart for sins and the desire to convert to God" (Enarrationes in Psalmos, 30:5).

+Giovanni D'Ercole

Domestic side, not domestications

(Mk 6:1-6)

Where Faith is lacking, only small changes take place, not the staggering wonders of the alternative presence of God’s Kingdom (v.5).

We do not realize that Lord may come from humble, dishonourable origins, as ours could be  - without great dynastic lineages.

But Faith in Christ bids farewell to the idea prevalent in top-down cultures and religions, all of which are ill-suited to deal with the normalcy of life that flows.

Jesus avoids rigid models or great appearance patterns. He gives himself with simplicity to his villagers and aims at the formation of authentic believers.

Their Trust must be placed only in the Kingdom of God - a dimension that really breaks the balance, because it’s introduced into daytime existence, and ferments it from invisible roots.

As Father’s Envoy, he would like all the people to be builders and banners of other dreams - but in his native village he feels like he is blocked by those who are unable to ‘decipher the dimension of the divine in the human’.

He must face the dull incomprehension of the centers of power, but sometimes also defaults and very hopes - quiet or divisive - of the popular reality that frequents places of worship.

The villagers expected the usual now addicted blessings, or perhaps a charismatic leader in the fight against the Romans - and here they gladly used to leverage the blaze of religious identity, to inflame souls.

They would have accepted a belligerent captain, who reflected archaic beliefs - instead they find themselves disappointed in the inapparent reality before their eyes.

They do not know how to discover the God’s plot in the history of the least.

Conversely, there are numerous divine signs inscribed in what is in a minor way manifested, wich can help us discover the not purely earthly dimension of things, relationships, presences.

Many people misunderstand the spirit of strength that Faith transmits to us: it breaks the balance because it does not offer guarantees already imagined - but it’s basically domestic and entirely natural.

Each Seed has its own particular destiny and development.

So why is the boy they have met since birth so different?

For the fact that there is no equation between what is thought in a conformist way, and the Lord. Not even giving emphasis to resolutions.

Both great expectations and proximity can be an obstacle to a daily knowledge of what of extraordinary is hidden behind the ordinary dimension of events and people.

Even many confreres or collaborators of Saints have not been able to grasp the exceptionality of a common life lived in fidelity and dedication to their own Call by Name.

All the more real the less flashy.

Misunderstanding and village jealousy of those who live next door [and chase a god of their own, disfigured] is a source of bitterness, but it does not stop us.

Experience of rejection pushes to change direction (v.6b).

The soul lives under the sign of Uniqueness that renounces prejudice, quiet life, simple approval, easy success.

And closed doors can be an added value! They open us to the journey of the soul in the Spirit, to the eccentric Announcement, to an astounding Mission.

In this way, like Jesus, we too willingly refuse to affix ready-made seals to the spirit of mediocrity that does not annoy anyone.

[Wednesday 4th wk. in O.T.  February 4, 2026]