Solemnity of Christ the King of the Universe [23 November 2025]

May God bless us and may the Virgin protect us. We close the liturgical year C with grateful hearts as we prepare to resume our journey with Advent.

*First Reading from the Second Book of Samuel (5:1-3)

These are the first steps of the monarchy in Israel. It all begins in Hebron, an ancient city in the mountains of Judea, where the patriarchs of Israel rest: Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebecca, Jacob and Leah, and even Joseph, whose bones were brought back from Egypt. It is a place steeped in memory and faith, and it is here that David becomes king of all the twelve tribes of Israel. After the death of Moses, around 1200 BC, the people of Israel settled in Palestine. The tribes lived independently, united only by the memory of their liberation from Egypt and their faith in their one God. In times of danger, God raised up temporary leaders, the Judges, who guided the people and often also acted as prophets. One of these was Samuel, a great man of God. Over time, however, the Israelites wanted to be 'like other peoples' and asked Samuel for a king. The prophet was troubled by this, because Israel was to recognise only God as King, but in the end, on God's command, he consecrated Saul, the first king of Israel. After a promising start, Saul fell into disobedience and madness, and God chose another man: David, the young shepherd from Bethlehem, on whom Samuel poured the oil of anointing. David did not immediately take power: he served Saul faithfully, became his musician and valiant warrior, loved by the people and bound by deep friendship to Jonathan, Saul's son. But the king's jealousy turned to hatred, and David was forced to flee, while always refusing to raise his hand against 'the Lord's anointed'. After Saul's death, Israel was divided: David reigned in Hebron over the tribe of Judah, while in the north, one of Saul's sons reigned for a short time. When the latter was killed, the northern tribes gathered at Hebron and recognised David as their king. On that day, the united kingdom of Israel was born: twelve tribes under one shepherd, chosen by God and recognised by his brothers. The anointing with sacred oil made David the 'Messiah', that is, the 'anointed one of the Lord'. He was to be a king after God's own heart, a shepherd who would lead his people towards unity and peace. But history showed how difficult it was to realise this ideal. Nevertheless, hope did not die: Israel always waited for the true Messiah, the descendant of David who would establish an eternal kingdom. And a thousand years later, Jesus Christ, called "Son of David," presented himself as the Good Shepherd, the one who offers his life for his flock. Every Sunday, in the Eucharist, he renews his covenant and tells us: "You are of my own blood."

*Responsorial Psalm (121/122:1-2, 3-4, 5-6a, 7a)

"What joy when they said to me, 'We will go to the house of the Lord'." A pilgrim recounts his emotion: after a long journey, his feet finally stop at the gates of Jerusalem. We are in the time of the return from Babylonian exile: the city has been rebuilt, the Temple restored (around 515 BC), and the people find in the house of the Lord the living sign of the Covenant. Before the resurrected city, the pilgrim exclaims: Jerusalem, here you are within your walls, a compact city, where everything together forms one body! Jerusalem is not only a geographical location: it is the heart of God's people, a symbol of unity and communion. Every stone, every wall reminds us that Israel is a people gathered together by a single promise and a common destiny. God himself wanted Israel to make an annual pilgrimage to Jerusalem, so that the common journey and shared effort would keep the bond of the Covenant alive. This is why the Psalm proclaims: "There the tribes go up, the tribes of the Lord... to praise the name of the Lord." The verb "to go up" indicates both the elevated position of the city and the spiritual ascent of the people towards their liberating God, the same God who brought them up, that is, out of Egypt. The phrase 'the tribes of the Lord' recalls the mutual belonging of the Covenant: 'You shall be my people, and I will be your God.' The pilgrimage, made on foot, amid fatigue, thirst and songs, is a journey of faith and fraternity. When the pilgrim exclaims, 'Now our journey is over!', he expresses the joy of one who has reached not only a geographical destination but also a spiritual one: the encounter with God in the city of his presence. Giving thanks to the Lord is Israel's vocation. Until the whole world recognises God, Israel is called to be the people of thanksgiving in the world, witnesses to divine faithfulness. Thus, every pilgrimage to Jerusalem renews Israel's mission: to give thanks, to praise and to show the way to other nations. The prophet Isaiah had foretold this universal plan: "At the end of days, the mountain of the Lord's temple will be firm on the top of the mountains, and all nations will flock to it... From Zion will go forth the law, and from Jerusalem the word of the Lord." (Is 2:2-3) Jerusalem then becomes a prophetic sign of the renewed world, where all peoples will be united in the same praise and the same peace. The Psalm recalls again: "There the thrones of judgement are set, the thrones of the house of David." With these words, Israel recalls the promise made by God to David through the prophet Nathan: "I will raise up a king from your descendants, and I will make his kingdom firm." (2 Sam 7:12). After the exile, there is no longer a king on the throne, but the promise remains alive: God does not go back on his word. In the celebrations at the Temple, this memory becomes prayer and hope: the day will come when God will raise up a king after his own heart, just and faithful, who will restore peace and justice. The very name Jerusalem means "city of peace." When we pray, "Pray for the peace of Jerusalem; may those who love you be secure" (Ps 122:6), we are not simply expressing a wish, but a profession of faith: only God can give true peace, and Israel is called to be a witness to this in the world. With the passing of the centuries, the hope for a righteous king is fulfilled in Jesus Christ, the Son of David. It is He who inaugurates the Kingdom of life and truth, of grace and holiness, of justice, love and peace, as proclaimed in the liturgy of the feast of Christ the King. In Him, the earthly Jerusalem becomes the new Jerusalem, the city of the definitive encounter between God and man. Every Eucharist is an ascent towards that city, a pilgrimage of the soul that ends in the heart of God. Israel's pilgrimage to Jerusalem then becomes a symbol of the journey of all humanity towards communion with God. And like the pilgrims of the Psalm, we too, the Church of the New Testament, can say with joy: "What joy when they said to me, 'We will go to the house of the Lord'."

*Second Reading from the letter of St. Paul the Apostle to the Colossians (1:12-20)

The invisible face of God. Once upon a time, there was a world that sought God but did not know how to see him. People looked up to the sky, built temples, offered sacrifices, but God remained invisible, distant. Then, one day, the Word became flesh: the God whom no one had ever seen took on a human face, and that face was that of Jesus of Nazareth. Since then, every time a man looks at Jesus, he looks at God. St Paul said it with words that sound like a song: "He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation." In Him, everything that exists finds its origin and meaning. He is not only the beginning of the world, but also its heart: in Him everything was created, and in Him everything was reconciled. This plan of God did not come about yesterday, and Paul speaks of a design that has always been in place: 'He has delivered us from the power of darkness and transferred us to the Kingdom of the Son of his love.' God has always dreamed of a free, luminous human being, capable of communion. But what God had prepared in eternity was realised in time, in the present of Christ. This is why Paul writes: "In Him we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins." The mystery of Jesus is not a memory; it is a living reality that continues to work in the hearts of believers every day. God had made man "in His own image and likeness." But that image, in sin, had become clouded. So God Himself came to show us what it means to be human. In Jesus, man is restored to his original beauty. When Pilate shows him to the crowd and says, 'Behold the man!', he does not know that he is uttering a prophecy: in that wounded face, in that humble silence, the true man is revealed, as God had intended him to be. But in that face there is also the face of God. Jesus is the visibility of the invisible. He is God who allows himself to be seen, touched, heard. "Whoever has seen me has seen the Father," he will say to Philip. And Paul will add: "In him dwells all the fullness of the Godhead bodily." In Jesus, God and man meet forever. The infinite has taken flesh, heaven has become flesh. This is the mystery of the Cross. But how can the Cross be a sign of peace and reconciliation? Paul explains it this way: "God wanted to reconcile all things to himself, making peace through the blood of his cross." It is not God who wants the suffering of his Son. It is the hatred of men that kills him. Yet God transforms that hatred into redeeming love. It is the great reversal of history: violence becomes forgiveness, death becomes life, the cross becomes a tree of peace. We have seen men in history who have witnessed to peace and been killed for it — Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Itzhak Rabin, Sadat... — but only Christ, being both man and God, was able to transform evil into grace for the whole world. In his forgiveness of his crucifiers — “Father, forgive them” — God’s own forgiveness is revealed. From that day on, we know that no sin is greater than God’s love. On the cross, everything is accomplished. Paul writes: “God wanted all fullness to dwell in him, and through him to reconcile everything.” Creation finally finds its unity, its peace. The first to enter this Kingdom is the repentant thief: "Today you will be with me in paradise." And from then on, every person who opens themselves to forgiveness enters into that same light. The Eucharist is the heart of the mystery. Faced with such a gift, there is only one possible response: to give thanks. This is why Paul invites us: "Give thanks to God the Father, who has made you capable of sharing in the lot of the saints in the light." The Eucharist — in Greek, eucharistia means precisely "giving thanks" — is the place where the Church relives this mystery. Every Mass is a living memory of this reconciliation: God gives himself, the world is renewed, man finds himself again. It is there that everything is recomposed: the visible and the invisible, earth and heaven, man and God. And so, in the history of the world, a face has revealed the invisible. A pierced heart has brought peace. A broken loaf continues to make present the fullness of love. And every time the Church gathers for the Eucharist, Paul's song is renewed as a cosmic praise: Christ is the image of the invisible God, the first and the last, the one who reconciles the world with the Father, the one in whom everything subsists. In Him, everything finds meaning. In Him, everything is grace. In Him, the invisible God finally has a face: Jesus Christ, Lord of heaven and earth.

*From the Gospel according to Luke (23:35-43)

The logic of men and the logic of God. Three times, at the foot of the cross, the same provocation is repeated to Jesus: "If you are..." — "If you are the Messiah," the religious leaders mock; 'If you are the King of the Jews', sneer the Roman soldiers; 'If you are the Messiah', insults one of the criminals crucified with him. Each speaks from his own point of view: the leaders of Israel expect a powerful Messiah, but before them is a defeated and crucified man; the soldiers, men of earthly power, laugh at a defenceless 'king'; the criminal, on the other hand, awaits a saviour who will free him from death. These three voices recall the three temptations in the desert (Lk 4): even then, the tempter repeated, 'If you are the Son of God...'. Temptations of power, dominion and miracles. Jesus responded each time with the Word: 'It is written: man does not live on bread alone...' 'You shall worship the Lord your God and him alone shall you serve...' 'You shall not tempt the Lord your God'. Scripture was his strength to remain faithful to the mission of the poor and obedient Messiah. On the cross, however, Jesus is silent. He no longer responds to provocations. Yet he knows well who he is: the Messiah, the Saviour. But not according to the logic of men, who would like a God capable of saving himself, of dominating, of winning by force. Jesus dies precisely because he does not correspond to this human logic. His logic is that of God: to save by giving himself, without imposing himself. His silence is not empty, but full of trust. His very name, Jesus, means 'God saves'. He awaits his redemption from God alone, not from himself. The temptations are overcome forever: he remains faithful, totally surrendered into the hands of men, but trusting in the Father. Amidst the insults, two words encapsulate the mystery of the Cross. The first: "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." The second, addressed to the "good thief": "Today you will be with me in Paradise." Forgiveness and salvation: two gestures that are both divine and human. In Jesus, God himself forgives and reconciles humanity. The repentant thief — who turns to him and says, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your Kingdom" — is the first to understand who Christ truly is. He does not ask to come down from the cross, but to be welcomed. In that plea of humility and trust, the "remember" becomes the prayer that opens Paradise. Where Adam, in the Garden of Eden, had succumbed to the temptation to "be like God," Jesus, the new Adam, wins by waiting for everything from God. Adam had wanted to decide his own greatness and had been cast out of Paradise; Jesus, on the other hand, by accepting to be the Son in total abandonment, reopens Paradise to humanity. In the story of the Passion, two logics intersect: that of men, who seek a powerful God, and that of God, who saves through love and weakness. Jesus rejects the temptation to demonstrate his strength; instead, he chooses to trust the Father until the end. In his silence and forgiveness, divine power manifests itself as mercy. Beside him, the repentant thief becomes the first witness of the Kingdom: he recognises Christ as the true King, not of the powerful, but of the saved. Where Adam had closed the gates of Paradise, Jesus reopens them: 'Today you will be with me in Paradise' is God's definitive response to the logic of the world.

+ Giovanni D'Ercole

XXXIII Sunday in Ordinary Time C [16 November 2025]

First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Malachi (3:19-20a)

When Malachi wrote these words around 450 BC, the people were discouraged: faith seemed to be dying out, even among the priests of Jerusalem, who now celebrated worship in a superficial manner. Everyone asked themselves: 'What is God doing? Has he forgotten us? Life is unfair! The wicked succeed in everything, so what is the point of being the chosen people and observing the commandments? Where is God's justice?" The prophet then fulfils his task: to reawaken faith and inner energy. He rebukes priests and lay people, but above all he proclaims that God is just and that his plan of justice is advancing irresistibly. "Behold, the day of the Lord is coming": history is not a repeating cycle, but is moving towards fulfilment. For those who believe, this is a truth of faith: the day of the Lord is coming. Depending on the image that each person has of God, this coming can be frightening or arouse ardent expectation. But for those who recognise that God is Father, the day of the Lord is good news, a day of love and light. Malachi uses the image of the sun: "Behold, the day of the Lord is coming, burning like an oven." This is not a threat! At the beginning of the book, God says, "I love you" (Malachi 1:2) and "I am Father" (Malachi 1:6). The "furnace" is not punishment, but a symbol of God's burning love. Just as the disciples of Emmaus felt their hearts burning within them, so those who encounter God are enveloped in the warmth of his love. The 'sun of righteousness' is therefore a fire of love: on the day we encounter God, we will be immersed in this burning ocean of mercy. God cannot help but love, especially all that is poor, naked and defenceless. This is the very meaning of mercy: a heart that bends over misery. Malachi also speaks of judgement. The sun, in fact, can burn or heal: it is ambivalent. In the same way, the 'Sun of God' reveals everything, illuminating without leaving any shadows: no lie or hypocrisy can hide from its light. God's judgement is not destruction, but revelation and purification. The sun will 'burn' the arrogant and the wicked, but it will 'heal' those who fear his name. Arrogance and closed hearts will be consumed like straw; humility and faith will be transfigured. Pride and humility, selfishness and love coexist in each of us. God's judgement will take place within us: what is 'straw' will burn, what is 'good seed' will sprout in God's sun. It will be a process of inner purification, until the image and likeness of God shines within us. Malachi also uses two other images: that of the smelter, who purifies gold not to destroy it, but to make it shine in all its beauty; and that of the bleacher, who does not ruin the garment, but makes it shine. Thus, God's judgement is a work of light: everything that is love, service and mercy will be exalted; everything that is not love will disappear. In the end, only what reflects the face of God will remain. The historical context helps us to understand this text: Israel is experiencing a crisis of faith and hope after the exile; the priests are lukewarm and the people are disillusioned. The prophet's message: God is neither absent nor unjust. His 'day' will come: it is the moment when his justice and love will be fully manifested. The central image is the Sun of Justice, symbol of God's purifying love. Like the sun, divine love burns and heals, consumes evil and makes good flourish. In each of us, God does not condemn, but transforms everything into salvation by discerning what glorifies love and dissolves pride. Fire, the sun, the smelter and the bleacher indicate the purification that leads to the original beauty of man created in the image of God. Finally, there is nothing to fear: for those who believe, the day of the Lord reveals love. "The sun of righteousness shall rise with healing in its wings" (Malachi 3:20).

Responsorial Psalm (97/98:5-6, 7-8, 9)

This psalm transports us ideally to the end of time, when all creation, renewed, joyfully acclaims the coming of the Kingdom of God. The text speaks of the sea and its riches, the world and its inhabitants, the rivers and the mountains: all creation is involved. St Paul, in his Letter to the Ephesians (1:9-10), reminds us that this is God's eternal plan: 'to bring all things in heaven and on earth together under one head, Christ'. God wants to reunite everything, to create full communion between the cosmos and creatures, to establish universal harmony. In the psalm, this harmony is already sung as accomplished: the sea roars, the rivers clap their hands, the mountains rejoice. It is God's dream, already announced by the prophet Isaiah (11:6-9): 'The wolf shall dwell with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid... no one shall do evil or destruction on all my holy mountain'. But the reality is very different: man knows the dangers of the sea, conflicts with nature and with his fellow men. Creation is marked by struggle and disharmony. However, biblical faith knows that the day will come when the dream will become reality, because it is God's own plan. The role of prophets, such as Isaiah, is to revive the hope of this messianic Kingdom of justice and faithfulness. The Psalms also tirelessly repeat the reasons for this hope: Psalm 97(98) sings of the Kingdom of God as the restoration of order and universal peace. After so many unjust kings, a Kingdom of justice and righteousness is awaited. The people sing as if everything were already accomplished: "Sing hymns to the Lord who comes to judge the earth... and the peoples with righteousness." At the beginning of the psalm, the wonders of the past are recalled—the exodus from Egypt, God's faithfulness in the history of Israel—but now it is proclaimed that God is coming: his Kingdom is certain, even if not yet fully visible. The experience of the past becomes a guarantee of the future: God has already shown his faithfulness, and this allows the believer to joyfully anticipate the coming of the Kingdom. As Psalm 89(90) says: "A thousand years in your sight are like yesterday." And Saint Peter (2 Pt 3:8-9) reminds us that God does not delay his promise, but waits for the conversion of all. This psalm therefore echoes the promises of the prophet Malachi: "The sun of righteousness shall rise with healing in its wings" (Mal 3:20). The singers of this psalm are the poor of the Lord, those who await the coming of Christ as light and warmth. Once it was only Israel that sang: "Acclaim the Lord, all the earth, acclaim your king!" But in the last days, all creation will join in this song of victory, no longer just the chosen people. In Hebrew, the verb "to acclaim" evokes the cry of triumph of the victor on the battlefield ("teru'ah"). But in the new world, this cry will no longer be one of war, but of joy and salvation, because — as Isaiah says (51:8): "My righteousness shall endure forever, my salvation from generation to generation." Jesus teaches us to pray, "Thy Kingdom come," which is the fulfilment of God's eternal dream: universal reconciliation and communion, in which all creation will sing in unison the justice and peace of its Lord.

Second Reading from the Second Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Thessalonians (3:7-12)

Saint Paul writes: "If anyone does not want to work, let him not eat" (2 Thessalonians 3:10). Today, this phrase cannot be repeated literally, because it does not refer to the unemployed of good will of our time, but to a completely different situation. Paul is not talking about those who cannot work, but those who do not want to work, taking advantage of the expectation of the imminent coming of the Lord to live in idleness. In Paul's world, there was no shortage of work. When he arrived in Corinth, he easily found employment with Priscilla and Aquila, who were in the same trade as him: tentmakers (Acts 18:1-3). His manual labour, weaving goat hair cloth, a skill he had learned in Tarsus in Cilicia, was tiring and not very profitable, but it allowed him not to be a burden to anyone: 'In toil and hardship, night and day we worked so as not to be a burden to anyone' (2 Thessalonians 3:8). This continuous work, supported also by the financial help of the Philippians, became for Paul a living testimony against the idleness of those who, convinced of the imminent return of Christ, had abandoned all commitment. His phrase 'if anyone does not want to work, let him not eat' is not a personal invention, but a common rabbinical saying, an expression of ancient wisdom that combined faith and concrete responsibility. The first reason Paul gives is respect for others: not taking advantage of the community, not living at the expense of others. Faith in the coming of the Kingdom must not become a pretext for passivity. On the contrary, waiting for the Kingdom translates into active and supportive commitment: Christians collaborate in the construction of the new world with their own hands, their own intelligence, their own dedication. Paul implicitly recalls the mandate of Genesis: 'Subdue the earth and subjugate it' (Gen 1:28), which does not mean exploiting it, but taking part in God's plan, transforming the earth into a place of justice and love, a foretaste of his Kingdom. The Kingdom is not born outside the world, but grows within history, through the collaboration of human beings. As Father Aimé Duval sings: "Your heaven will be made on earth with your arms." And as Khalil Gibran writes in The Prophet: "When you work, you realise a part of the dream of the earth... Work is love made visible." In this perspective, every gesture of love, care and service, even if unpaid, is a participation in the building of the Kingdom of God. To work, to create, to serve, is to collaborate with the Creator. Saint Peter reminds us: “With the Lord, one day is like a thousand years and a thousand years like one day... He is not slow in keeping his promise, but he is patient, wanting everyone to come to repentance” (2 Peter 3:8-9). This means that the time of waiting is not empty, but a time entrusted to our responsibility. Every act of justice, every good work, every gesture of love hastens the coming of the Kingdom. Therefore, the text concludes, if we truly desire the Kingdom of God to come sooner, we have not a minute to lose. Here is a small spiritual summary: Idleness is not simply a lack of work, but a renunciation of collaboration with God. Work, in whatever form, is part of the divine dream: to make the earth a place of communion and justice. Waiting for the Kingdom does not mean escaping from the world, but committing ourselves to transforming it. Every gesture of love is a stone laid for the Kingdom to come. Those who work with a pure heart hasten the dawn of the 'Sun of Justice' promised by the prophets.

From the Gospel according to Luke (21:5-19)

'Not a hair of your head will be lost.' This is prophetic language, not literal. We see every day that hair is indeed lost! This shows that Jesus' words are not to be taken literally, but as symbolic language. Jesus, like the prophets before him, does not make predictions about the future: he preaches. He does not announce chronicles of events, but keys of faith to interpret history. His discourse on the end of the Temple should also be understood in this way: it is not a horoscope of the apocalypse, but a teaching on how to live the present with faith, especially when everything seems to be falling apart. The message is clear: 'Whatever happens... do not be afraid!' Jesus invites us not to base our lives on what is passing. The Temple of Jerusalem, restored by Herod and covered with gold, was splendid, but destined to collapse. Every earthly reality, even the most sacred or solid, is temporary. True stability does not lie in stones, but in God. Jesus does not offer details about the 'when' or 'how' of the Kingdom; he shifts the question: 'Be careful not to be deceived...'. We do not need to know the calendar of the future, but to live the present in faithfulness. Jesus warns his disciples: "Before all this, they will persecute you, they will drag you before kings and governors because of my Name." Luke, who writes after years of persecution, knows well how true this is: from Stephen to James, from Peter to Paul, to many others. But even in persecution, Jesus promises: "I will give you a word and wisdom that no one will be able to resist." This does not mean that Christians will be spared death — "they will kill some of you" — but that no violence can destroy what you are in God: "Not a hair of your head will be lost." It is a way of saying: your life is kept safe in the hands of the Father. Even through death, you remain alive in God's life. Jesus twice uses the expression "for my Name's sake." In Hebrew, "The Name" refers to God himself: to say "for the Name's sake" is to say "for God's sake." Thus Jesus reveals his own divinity: to suffer for his Name is to participate in the mystery of his love. In the Acts of the Apostles, Saint Luke shows Peter and John who, after being flogged, "went away rejoicing because they had been counted worthy of suffering for the Name of Jesus" (Acts 5:41). It is the same certainty that Saint Paul expresses in his Letter to the Romans: "Neither death nor life, nor any creature can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus" (Rom 8:38-39). Catastrophes, wars, epidemics — all these "shocks" of the world — must not take away our peace. The true sign of believers is the serenity that comes from trust. In the turmoil of the world, the calmness of God's children is already a testimony. Jesus sums it up in one word: "Take courage: I have overcome the world!" (Jn 16:33). And here is a spiritual synthesis: Jesus does not promise a life without trials, but a salvation stronger than death. Not even a hair...' means that no part of you is forgotten by God. Persecution does not destroy, but purifies faith. Nothing can separate us from the love of God: our security is the risen Christ. To believe is to remain steadfast, even when everything trembles.

+ Giovanni D'Ercole

Little House of God? No more haggling with loan sharks

(Lk 19:45-48)

The teaching of Jesus in the sacred place is presented by Lk as enduring: «He was teaching every day» (v.47). Main topic: the Grace.

So over time we learn conviviality: encouraged to dialogue with our personal, unrepeatable Vocation, which captivates because it really corresponds.

And the intimate conviction is alone, incomparable, precious energy of transformative valence - which leads to not withdrawing from oneself, nor disregarding the reality of sisters and brothers.

Rather it induces to make Exodus, explore new conditions of being, transfigure perception into blissful action.

Hunting the false friends of religiosity, the Lord is not so much oriented to compensate the purity of the Place, nor to mend and revive the enamel of the sober original cult - as Prophets wanted.

He renders a holy service not to ancient God, but to people - by that system [or tangle] made totally unaware of their vocational dignity: only chained, milked, and sheared.

The first Tent of God is therefore humanity itself, its beating heart - not a delimited space:

Upon entering Jerusalem, the Master takes possession of the heavenly House - which is not the Temple, but the People.

He doesn’t teach to enter into habitual and formal armor accepted by the contour, but distant from persons.

Rather, He stimulates us not to restrain our true nature with costume hoods, according to which "it’s never enough".

Our inner world should not be hysterically regarded as a dangerous stranger.

Innate roots and our natural energy have the right to flourish and prevail over common manners or ideas: they are an experimental trace of the Divine.

In them there is a Personal bond, which wins every intimate torment.

We must therefore change our approach. He himself is the essential point of the Eternal’s worship.

In this light of Person in his Person, everyone can embrace proposals that are not of others and intruders; wich will not turn out to be ballasts.

The phantasmagorical ancient culmination is becoming periphery, it’s decaying. And to find ourselves, we have difficulties.

An opportunity not to be missed to proceed in a living and singular way, in tune with an ever new teaching on unprecedented Love, which takes our step.

It’s the burning Appeal of «the Mount», which focusses on ‘passion’: precisely on Desire.

No more a strict call to the "no" of great appearances - but finally Listening to the Voice in the soul, which amazes (v.48).

Authentic sacred of the temple.

No more loan sharks in power.

With what does not correspond, even from a cultural, social and spiritual point of view, we no longer haggle.

[Friday 33rd wk. in O.T.  November 21, 2025]

Little Home of God or a place of business and usury? No more haggling

(Lk 19:45-48)

Jesus notes that around the activity that took place within the perimeters of the Temple a whole ambiguous structure of sin had been articulated.

The Sanctuary's business eagerness was not even hidden - indeed, it even confronted it.

But the priestly perspectives of the holy tribute and the horizons of the people's full life conflicted.

Ditto for the aims of jurists and doctors, who willingly flocked especially under Solomon's porch [on the other side, towards the east] to 'grant' advice.

The exclusive function of fostering an encounter with the presence of God was totally mortified.

The sacred area had become a den of shrewd merchants, businessmen perpetually on the prowl, always intent on changing currency.

This was with the blessing of the sect of the ruling Sadducees, who could not resist the temptation to pull the strings of the lavish trade.

In ousting the false friends of the succouring Father, the parasites of religiosity, the Lord does not so much aim to restore the purity of the Place, nor to restore the polish of the original sober worship - as the Prophets intended.

He renders a holy service not to the ancient God (as in the religions) but to the people - by that system [or tangle] rendered totally unaware of their own vocational dignity: only chained, milked, and sheared.

Indeed, the Zealots aimed to restore the purity of rituals. They imagined that they could somehow recover their coherence.

The Essenes, on the other hand, had abandoned the Temple altogether. They considered the shameful situation now compromised.

John the Baptist had made the same detachment.

Although of priestly lineage, he preached to the people the forgiveness of sins through a conversion of life, not through the sacrifices of the liturgy [only in Jerusalem].

Instead, the authentic Angel of the Covenant was definitely intransigent, far more radical than any of them!

In fact, according to the very first Christians, who frequented the Temple, the place of encounter with God, the land from which his Love radiated, was no longer linked to material aspects.

Nor was it in itself religious; much less imbued with doctrinal observances, moralistic codes, or one-sided worldviews.

Thus, for us too, the divine Presence and its Communion are not caught in mythical purity, ancient magnificence, perfectionist endeavours - or à la page adherence.

Service to God is honouring woman and man as and where they are: sacred respect starts from a Gift that already runs through our lives. Opinions are of no use.

The unknown Friend wants to dwell in us not to appropriate, but to merge and expand our relational and qualitative capacities. Our own, not others' or on the side.

In Christ, we move from obedience to more or less dated norms [even futuristic ones] to the style of personal likeness. That which builds living shrines.

Honour to the Father is realised not in the details or in the spirit of the body already dictated, but in the sons and daughters, however - if they live in fraternity.

This happens especially when they assimilate Jesus' Teaching [on Grace] (v.47).

Thus in time, they learn conviviality from Himself, and together they are encouraged to dialogue with their exceptional and unrepeatable Vocation, which captivates because it truly corresponds.

And intimate conviction is alone, incomparable and precious energy of transformative value - which leads one not to withdraw from oneself, one's own exceptionalism, nor to overlook the reality of one's brothers.

Rather, it induces one to make Exodus, to explore new conditions of being, to transfigure perception into blissful action.

Only from here does coexistence arise.

And Sin indeed remains deviation, but no longer transgression of the law - but inability to correspond to the Call that characterises, unleashes and empowers a surprising uniqueness of Relationship.

The first Tent of God is thus humanity itself, its beating heart - not a space of stones and bricks, fixed, delimited, or fanciful... to be adorned with overlays.

Having entered Jerusalem, the Master takes possession of the heavenly House - which is not the Temple, but the People.

That is why He casts out of the sacred imagery inculcated in the naive, precisely the most uneducational traits of the festival - and especially teaches the unhealthy, to feel already adequate!

Unbelievable: to each Christ changes the mental atmosphere.

The true Lord does not teach us to enter into habitual or abstract and formal armour, accepted in outline but distant from ourselves, from creatures.

Rather, he encourages us not to restrain our true nature with cloaks of habit [dated or not] according to which 'it is never enough'.

Behind our character essence lies a fruitful, unrepeatable, singular Calling; with visual and social implications that we do not know.As we are - just so - we are fine.

There is no need to exorcise anything of our deepest being, which spontaneously manifests its compressed discomforts and joyful correspondences, even in outward eccentricities.

Rather, any conventional epidermal, adaptive, or cunning domestication stifles the core of the Calling by Name - authentic Guidance, impulse of Spirit.

Our inner world is not to be hysterically regarded as a dangerous outsider to be reconfigured.

Our innate roots and natural energy have the right to flourish and prevail over common ways or ideas: they are experimental traces of the Divine.

There is a Personal bond in them.

The Lord's claim is immediately countered by the hostility of the paludates, interested in the give-and-take of that mannerist theatre.

They make him out to be deranged, to be eliminated immediately: a very dangerous dreamer, because he activates and enhances souls, instead of the mediating structure.

This is the condemnation handed down by the 'big boys' in society: the outcome of any truth operation.

This is how they try to tarnish any attempt at emancipation of the oppressed in spirit, in the core of the self - whether through fear of God or obsession with unworthiness.

But in today's reality, which heels us in, the Risen One continues to demythologise the excessive preoccupation with identified places, the "heights" of settled and material character.

With their implications that do not nourish in a full and stable way - on the contrary, they become a cankerworm.

In short, a change of approach is needed.

He himself is the essential point of worship of the Eternal.

In such a light of Person in His Person, each one can embrace proposals that are not others and intrusive; that will not prove to be ballast.

And the Church's authentic prestige will be to echo the proclamation that liberates and truly pleases.

Obviously provoking the same mercantile tensions; litmus test of our divine action.

Through the work of apostles frightened by the bluntness of the authorities, and perhaps themselves prone to compromise - the magnificent sanctuary that Jesus had explicitly described as a den of scoundrels will once again become the centre of the ecclesial assembly [Lk 24:53; Acts 5:12].

It will provide more effectively... not the burning conscience, but the tragic history of the holy city, to make its excess of importance fade away.

Even today: the ancient phantasmagorical culmination is becoming periphery, decay. And to find ourselves, we make it difficult.

An opportunity not to be missed to move forward in a lively and singular way, in tune with an ever new teaching on Love, which takes our step.

It is the burning Call of "the Mount", which centres on passion: precisely on Desire.

No longer a stern call to the 'no' of great appearances - but finally Listening to the Voice in the soul, which amazes (v.48).

Authentic sacredness of the temple.

Jesus' teaching in the venerable place is presented by Lk 19:47 as enduring: "he was teaching every day" [Greek text].

Through the Word that does not remain on high but partakes of our humanity (finally opened wide) He also finds His Temple today. 

Dwelling place cleared of old and new hunters.

He only longs for his People - women and men freed from the cave of robbers [Jer 7:11; Lk 19:46] who still try to penetrate our quality of relationship.

Paraphrasing the encyclical Fratelli Tutti (No. 226) we gladly reiterate with Pope Francis: "there is no more room for empty diplomacies, for dissimulations, double talk, cover-ups, good manners that hide the reality" (irritating) of business partners with God.

The rubbish must be eliminated. The stakes are too high and personal.

With what does not correspond, even culturally, socially and spiritually, one no longer bargains.

No more loan sharks in power.

To internalise and live the message:

Do you still need set times, carved-out places, gestures of atonement and propitiation, or do you feel a living relationship with God?

What is your House of Prayer?

Churches of service, not supermarkets.

The most important temple of God is our heart

"Churches of service, churches that are gratuitous, just as salvation was gratuitous, and not 'supermarket churches'": Pope Francis did not mince words in re-proposing the relevance of Jesus' gesture of driving the merchants out of the temple. And "vigilance, service and gratuitousness" are the three key words he relaunched in the mass celebrated on Friday 24 November at Santa Marta.

"Both readings of today's liturgy," the Pontiff explained, "speak to us of the temple, indeed of the purification of the temple. Taking his cue from the passage in the first book of Maccabees (4:36-37, 52-59), the Pope pointed out that "after the defeat of the people that Antiochus Epiphanes had sent to paganise the people, Judas Maccabaeus and his brothers wanted to purify the temple, that temple where there had been pagan sacrifices, and to restore the spiritual beauty of the temple, the sacredness of the temple". For this "the people were joyful". Indeed, we read in the biblical text that "great was the joy of the people, because the shame of the pagans had been wiped away". Therefore, the Pope added, "the people rediscovered their own law, they rediscovered their own being; the temple became, once again, the place of the encounter with God".

"Jesus does the same when he expels those who were selling in the temple: he purifies the temple," said Francis, referring to the Gospel passage from Luke (19:45-48). In doing so, the Lord makes the temple "as it should be: pure, only for God and for the people who go to pray". But, on our part, "how do we purify the temple of God?". The answer, said the Pope, lies in "three words that can help us understand. First: vigilance; second: service; third: gratuitousness'.

"Vigilance", therefore, is the first word suggested by the Pontiff: "Not only the physical temple, the palaces, the temples are the temples of God: the most important temple of God is our heart, our soul". So much so that, the Pope pointed out, St Paul tells us: 'You are the temple of the Holy Spirit'. Therefore, Francis reiterated, 'within us dwells the Holy Spirit'.

And this is precisely 'why the first word' proposed by Francis is 'vigilance'. Hence some questions for an examination of conscience: "What is happening in my heart? What is happening within me? How do I deal with the Holy Spirit? Is the Holy Spirit one more of the many idols I have within me or do I care for the Holy Spirit? Have I learnt to be vigilant within myself, so that the temple in my heart is only for the Holy Spirit?"

Here, then, is the importance of "purifying the temple, the inner temple, and keeping watch," said the Pope. With an explicit invitation: "Be careful, be vigilant: what happens in your heart? Who is coming, who is going... What are your feelings, your ideas? Do you speak with the Holy Spirit? Do you listen to the Holy Spirit?" It is, therefore, a matter of "watchfulness: be attentive to what is happening in our temple, within us".

The "second word is service," continued the Pontiff. "Jesus," he recalled, "makes us understand that he is present in a special way in the temple of those in need". And "he says it clearly: he is present in the sick, those who suffer, the hungry, the imprisoned, he is present there". For the word "service" Francis also suggested some questions to ask oneself: "Do I care for that temple? Do I take care of the temple with my service? Do I approach it to help, to clothe, to console those in need?"

"St John Chrysostom," Francis noted, "rebuked those who made so many offerings to adorn, to beautify the physical temple and did not take care of those in need: he rebuked and said: 'No, this is not good, first the service then the ornaments'". In short, we are called to "purify the temple that is others". And to do this well, we must ask ourselves: "How do I help to purify that temple?". The answer is simple: "With service, with service to the needy. Jesus himself says that he is present there". And 'he is present there,' the Pope explained, 'and when we approach to give service, to help, we resemble Jesus who is there'.

In this regard, Francis confided that he had 'seen such a beautiful icon of Cyrene helping Jesus carry the cross: looking closely at that icon, the Cyrene had the same face as Jesus'. Therefore, 'if you guard that temple which is the sick, the imprisoned, the needy and the hungry, your heart will also be more like that of Jesus'. Precisely "that is why guarding the temple means service".

"The first word, vigilance," the Pontiff summarised, expresses something that "happens within us". While "the second word" leads us towards "service to the needy: that is purifying the temple". And "the third word that comes to mind," he continued, "reading the Gospel is gratuitousness. In the Gospel passage, Jesus says: "My house shall be a house of prayer. You, on the other hand, have made it a den of thieves'. Precisely with these words of the Lord in mind, said the Pope, "how many times with sadness do we enter a temple - think of a parish, a bishopric - and we do not know whether we are in the house of God or in a supermarket: there are businesses there, even the price list for the sacraments" and "gratuitousness is missing".

But 'God saved us gratuitously, he did not make us pay for anything,' the Pontiff insisted, inviting us to be of help 'so that our churches, our parishes are not a supermarket: that they are a house of prayer, that they are not a den of thieves, but that they are free service'. Of course, the Pope added, someone could object that 'we must have money to maintain the structure and also we must have money to feed the priests, the catechists'. The Pontiff's answer is clear: "You give freely and God will do the rest, God will do what is lacking"."Guarding the temple," Francis affirmed, "means this: vigilance, service and gratuitousness". First of all "vigilance in the temple of our heart: what happens there, be careful because it is the temple of the Holy Spirit". Then "service to the needy" he repeated, also suggesting reading chapter 25 of Matthew's gospel. Service also "to the hungry, the sick, the imprisoned, those in need because Christ is there", always with the certainty that "the needy is the temple of Christ".

Finally, the Pope concluded, the 'third' point is the 'gratuitousness in the service that is given in our churches: churches of service, churches that are gratuitous, just as salvation was gratuitous, and not 'supermarket churches'."

[Pope Francis, St. Martha, in L'Osservatore Romano 25/11/2017]

Today, all this must give us, as Christians, food for thought. Is our faith sufficiently pure and open so that starting from it "pagans", the people today who are seeking and who have their questions, can intuit the light of the one God, associate themselves in the atriums of faith with our prayers and, with their questions, perhaps also become worshippers? Does the awareness that greed is idolatry enter our heart too and the praxis of our life? Do we not perhaps in various ways let idols enter even the world of our faith? Are we disposed to let ourselves be ceaselessly purified by the Lord, letting him expel from us and the Church all that is contrary to him? 

In the temple's purification, however, it was a matter of more than fighting abuses. A new time in history was foretold. What Jesus had announced to the Samaritan woman concerning her question about true worship is now beginning: "The hour is coming, and now is, when true worshippers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for such the Father seeks to worship him" (Jn 4: 23). The time when animals were sacrificed to God was over. Animal sacrifices were only a substitute, a nostalgic gesture for the true way to worship God. The Letter to the Hebrews on the life and work of Jesus uses a sentence from Psalm 40[39]: "Sacrifices and offerings you have not desired, but a body have you prepared for me" (Heb 10: 5). Christ's body, Christ himself, enters to take the place of bloody sacrifices and food offerings. Only "love to the end", only love for human beings given totally to God is true worship, true sacrifice. Worshipping in spirit and truth means adoring in communion with the One who is Truth; adoring in communion with his Body, in which the Holy Spirit reunites us. 

The Evangelists tell us that in Jesus' trial false witnesses were produced who asserted that Jesus had said: "I am able to destroy the temple of God, and to rebuild it in three days" (Mt 26: 61). In front of Christ hanging on the Cross some people, taunting him, referred to these same words: "You who would destroy the temple and build it in three days, save yourself!" (Mt 27: 40). The correct version of these words as Jesus spoke them has been passed on to us by John in his account of the purification of the temple. In response to the request for a sign by which Jesus could justify himself for such an action, the Lord replied: "Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up" (Jn 2: 18ff.). John adds that, thinking back to this event of the Resurrection, the disciples realized that Jesus had been referring to the Temple of his Body (cf. 2: 21ff.). It is not Jesus who destroys the temple; it is left to destruction by the attitude of those who transformed it from being a place for the encounter of all peoples with God into a "den of robbers", a haven for their dealings. But as always, beginning with Adam's fall, human failure becomes the opportunity for us to be even more committed to love of God. The time of the temple built of stone, the time of animal sacrifices, is now passed: the fact that the Lord now expels the merchants does not only prevent an abuse but points to God's new way of acting. The new Temple is formed: Jesus Christ himself, in whom God's love descends upon human beings. He, by his life, is the new and living Temple. He who passed through the Cross and was raised is the living space of spirit and life in which the correct form of worship is made. Thus, the purification of the temple, as the culmination of Jesus' solemn entry into Jerusalem, is at the same time the sign of the impending ruin of the edifice and the promise of the new Temple; a promise of the kingdom of reconciliation and love which, in communion with Christ, is established beyond any boundary.

[Pope Benedict, Palm Sunday homily 16 March 2008]

5. “He spoke of the temple of his body” (Jn 2:21).

In the Gospel we again read the story about the driving of the merchants from the temple. St John’s description is vivid and eloquent: on one side there is Jesus, who, “making a whip of cords, drove them all, with the sheep and oxen, out of the temple” (Jn 2:14-15), and on the other are the Jews, particularly the Pharisees. The contrast is so strong that some of those present ask Jesus: “What sign have you to show us for doing this?” (Jn 2:18).

“Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up” (Jn 2:19), Christ answers. To which the people reply: “It has taken 46 years to build this temple, and will you raise it up in three days?” (Jn 2:20). They had not understood —St John notes — that the Lord was talking about the living temple of his body, which, during the paschal events, would be destroyed by his death on the cross but would be raised up on the third day. “When therefore he was raised from the dead”, the Evangelist writes, “his disciples remembered that he had said this; and they believed the scripture and the word which Jesus had spoken” (Jn 2:22).

It is the paschal event that gives authentic meaning to all the various elements of today’s readings. At Easter the power of the incarnate Word is fully revealed, the power of the eternal Son of God, who became man for us and for our salvation.

 “Lord you have the words of eternal life”.

We believe that you are truly the Son of God.

And we thank you for having made us sharers in your own divine life.

Amen.

[Pope John Paul II, homily 2 March 1997]

"Churches of service, churches that are gratuitous, just as salvation was gratuitous, and not 'supermarket churches'": Pope Francis did not mince words in re-proposing the relevance of Jesus' gesture of driving the merchants out of the temple. And "vigilance, service and gratuitousness" are the three key words he relaunched in the mass celebrated on Friday 24 November at Santa Marta.

"Both readings in today's liturgy," the Pontiff explained, "speak to us of the temple, indeed of the purification of the temple. Taking his cue from the passage in the first book of Maccabees (4:36-37, 52-59), the Pope pointed out how "after the defeat of the people that Antiochus Epiphanes had sent to paganise the people, Judas Maccabaeus and his brothers wanted to purify the temple, that temple where there had been pagan sacrifices, and restore the spiritual beauty of the temple, the sacredness of the temple". For this "the people were joyful". Indeed, we read in the biblical text that "great was the joy of the people, because the shame of the pagans had been wiped away". Therefore, the Pope added, "the people rediscovered their own law, they rediscovered their own being; the temple became, once again, the place of the encounter with God".

"Jesus does the same when he expels those who were selling in the temple: he purifies the temple," said Francis, referring to the Gospel passage from Luke (19:45-48). In doing so, the Lord makes the temple "as it should be: pure, only for God and for the people who go to pray". But, on our part, "how do we purify the temple of God?". The answer, said the Pope, lies in "three words that can help us understand. First: vigilance; second: service; third: gratuitousness'.

"Vigilance", therefore, is the first word suggested by the Pontiff: "Not only the physical temple, the palaces, the temples are the temples of God: the most important temple of God is our heart, our soul". So much so that, the Pope pointed out, St Paul tells us: 'You are the temple of the Holy Spirit'. Therefore, Francis reiterated, 'within us dwells the Holy Spirit'.

And this is precisely 'why the first word' proposed by Francis is 'vigilance'. Hence some questions for an examination of conscience: "What is happening in my heart? What is happening within me? How do I deal with the Holy Spirit? Is the Holy Spirit one more of the many idols I have within me or do I care for the Holy Spirit? Have I learnt to be vigilant within myself, so that the temple in my heart is only for the Holy Spirit?"

Here, then, is the importance of "purifying the temple, the inner temple, and keeping watch," said the Pope. With an explicit invitation: "Be careful, be vigilant: what happens in your heart? Who is coming, who is going... What are your feelings, your ideas? Do you speak with the Holy Spirit? Do you listen to the Holy Spirit?" It is, therefore, a matter of "watchfulness: be attentive to what is happening in our temple, within us".

The "second word is service," continued the Pontiff. "Jesus," he recalled, "makes us understand that he is present in a special way in the temple of those in need". And "he says it clearly: he is present in the sick, those who suffer, the hungry, the imprisoned, he is present there". For the word "service" Francis also suggested some questions to ask oneself: "Do I care for that temple? Do I take care of the temple with my service? Do I approach it to help, to clothe, to console those in need?"

"St John Chrysostom," Francis noted, "rebuked those who made so many offerings to adorn, to beautify the physical temple and did not take care of those in need: he rebuked and said: 'No, this is not good, first the service then the ornamentation'". In short, we are called to "purify the temple that is others". And to do this well, we must ask ourselves: "How do I help to purify that temple?". The answer is simple: "With service, with service to the needy. Jesus himself says that he is present there". And 'he is present there,' the Pope explained, 'and when we approach to give service, to help, we resemble Jesus who is there'.

In this regard, Francis confided that he had 'seen such a beautiful icon of Cyrene helping Jesus carry the cross: looking closely at that icon, the Cyrene had the same face as Jesus'. Therefore, 'if you guard that temple which is the sick, the imprisoned, the needy and the hungry, your heart will also be more like that of Jesus'. Precisely "that is why guarding the temple means service".

"The first word, vigilance," the Pontiff summarised, expresses something that "happens within us". While "the second word" leads us towards "service to the needy: that is purifying the temple". And "the third word that comes to mind," he continued, "reading the Gospel is gratuitousness. In the Gospel passage, Jesus says: "My house shall be a house of prayer. You, on the other hand, have made it a den of thieves'. Precisely with these words of the Lord in mind, said the Pope, "how many times with sadness do we enter a temple - think of a parish, a bishopric - and we do not know whether we are in God's house or in a supermarket: there are businesses there, even the price list for the sacraments" and "gratuitousness is missing".

But 'God saved us gratuitously, he did not make us pay for anything,' the Pontiff insisted, inviting us to be of help 'so that our churches, our parishes are not a supermarket: that they are a house of prayer, that they are not a den of thieves, but that they are free service'. Of course, the Pope added, someone could object that 'we must have money to maintain the structure and also we must have money to feed the priests, the catechists'. The Pontiff's answer is clear: "You give freely and God will do the rest, God will do what is lacking".

"Guarding the temple," Francis said, "means this: vigilance, service and gratuitousness". First of all "vigilance in the temple of our heart: what happens there, be careful because it is the temple of the Holy Spirit". Then "service to the needy" he repeated, also suggesting reading chapter 25 of Matthew's gospel. Service also "to the hungry, the sick, the imprisoned, those in need because Christ is there", always with the certainty that "the needy is the temple of Christ".

Finally, the Pope concluded, the 'third' point is the 'gratuitousness in the service that is given in our churches: churches of service, churches that are gratuitous, just as salvation was gratuitous, and not 'supermarket churches'."

[Pope Francis, St. Martha, in L'Osservatore Romano 25/11/2017]

Weeping over the eternal city, with tears of a father, mother and son

(Lk 19:41-44)

We like to be in the wake of fashion or opportunism, but rejecting the Lord’s Call is a great responsibility.

We must recognize His Visit, in Presence, in the inspiration that emerges.

Scrutinizing the signs, seizing the moments of grace instead of closing stubbornly; and do not turn back.

All this changes life in root - guides to the heart of history [even in its breaking places].

Jesus wants to conquer the closed doors of every citadel; above all of the toughest bone: Jerusalem.

Sometimes the search for the divine and human tension are made vain, because of a world of the sacred that seems under the sign of a completely different ‘deity’.

In fact, the choice of an ideology of power feeds illusions - but leads to disaster the entire people.

By blurring the gaze, it doesn’t allow us to get rid of the most insidious idols, and distorts the path to the Shalôm.

Once, here are trenches, killings and destruction of the walls and houses by Nebuchadnezzar; then the Roman one of 70 which the text more directly alludes to.

But the gloomy prediction extends, and perhaps the image of the pile of ruins concerns us. Historical background, ecclesial and pastoral meditation.

Unfortunately we continue to condemn Jesus-Peace as a criminal to be expelled. Situation that drags problems.

Thus in filigree the Christ stands out in the position of King, who reluctantly pronounces a definitive sentence.

Where salvation is prepared, offered and re-proposed so intensely but in vain, rejection becomes certainly more painful - for us and for this passionate, moving Son.

Yet the class of the elect still chooses to fall and ruin, self-destructing their own people.

Rejecting the Messiah as a servant and ignoring even in time the work of Good of its authentic witnesses, the religious centre will continue to lose its special character of a saving sign.

Even today it’s time for the Master’s Visit, who knocks and asks for permission to enter, to open the seals of the great questions of history and life.

The warning is global, communitarian and personal; again with tears of father, mother and son.

The encyclical Brothers All [FT] denounces precisely the regression of an extravagant world that - with a sense of the “here and now” shrunken - seems to have learned little from the tragedies of the twentieth century, until rekindling anachronistic conflicts (nn.11.13).

To internalize and live the message:

What do you think is hidden from your eyes, but previously announced - and is crying bitterly?

With what orientation you are willing to live in the «craftsmanship of Peace», even family or social, putting aside the enmities and the ephemeral [cf. FT nn. 57. 100. 127. 176. 192. 197. 216-217. 225-236. 240-243. 254-262. 271-272. 278-285]?

[Thursday 33rd wk. in O.T.  November 20, 2025]