Full dedication, but for a our own’s crossing

(Mt 8:18-22)

Continuing to venerate certainties, points of reference and habits, one can only manage a world of the dead (v.22).

Whoever welcomes Christ opens himself to a Newness - splendid but risky - that he doesn’t know.

The believer must take into account that we are all called to make strenuous crossings to other shores (v.18), compared to the usual.

To overcome this insecurity and the natural fear, initial enthusiasm is not enough.

In view of the difficult moments of evangelization, it is good that the son of God understands his forces or inclinations - and whether they are able to lead him to the point of transgressing even indispensable bonds (v.21).

Not for effort and "resilience". In this way we do not waste attention and energy to sustain things that have no future (v.22).

From the earliest times the Risen One was not identified as a simple model of deprivation and humiliation, to be "imitated".

The Lord was a non-external Motive and an (all intimate) Engine of new life. That’s the point.

Religions teach only one "matter": the story and style of the Founder, which makes you learn beautiful "notions" and heroic deeds.

In the spirituality of the Passage in Christ to other shores [v.18] one can only be in synergy with the Source that gushes inside.

Growth will be faithful to its own Seed. Flowering will be commesurate on the Roots and flow of the Sap, not on the protrusion of the leaves.

In the adventure of Faith our Core generates us and leads us to introduce in the relationship with ourselves, with others and things, in the most different way.

Love is spontaneous and risky; it never has the outline of the standard mechanisms.

In following the Lord there is sobriety, yet pre-established schemes are lacking. As in Friendship: it too is "unsafe", but there is a Source.

It's the unprecedented personal that in the labours continues to convey creative Joy - and makes us take to the field, to remain qualitative and profound.

Lack of imposed tracks teaches the Road of spontaneity that opens stunning breaches.

Nature itself recovers the opposites and sides in half-light, or dim, considered superfluous.

Here we draw on the genuineness of our particular essence, in an uncontaminated way from cerebral or customary taboos.

Discovering it more faceted than we thought.

Moving away from obvious judgments (and from getting along with the mannerisms around) we are introduced to the green light of independence and vocational wealth.

Under the action of the Spirit, it will be precisely in real danger that everyone will finally access the ‘mystical dimension of the Following’.

What if we continue to feel the vertigo of the continuous crossings - of a task too great for such an inferior «me», incapable of constant performances, recognized?

But right here, without scaffolding, personally meeting the Lord, we have already perceived and felt with our whole being his subtle Appeal:

«I do not abandon yourself; you, do not leave yourself: Me in you».

[Monday 13th wk. in O.T.  June 30, 2025]

Full dedication, but for a crossing of our own

(Mt 8:18-22)

Jesus wants us to give new space to His Word; that by listening to Him, we allow Him to speak. And through our choices, that He becomes meaningful again.

His Word is demanding, but it frees us from ballasts, from mental cloaks that solidify in time and in our heads. Our real overburden.

The Sequela is simple but not facile. Easy, after all; in the gratuitousness of deep and immediate attunement, without external filters.

Continuing to venerate securities, landmarks and habits does nothing more than manage a world of the dead (v.22).

He who welcomes Christ opens himself to a Newness - splendid but risky - that he does not know.

The believer must take into account that we are all called to make tiring crossings to other shores (v.18) than the usual ones.

To overcome this insecurity and natural fear, initial enthusiasm is not enough.

In view of the hard times of evangelisation, it is good for the child of God to understand his own strengths or inclinations - and whether they are capable of leading him to the point of transgressing indispensable ties, family interests, "sacred" duties (v.21).

This is to allow new modes of expression and pastoral forms to emerge and flourish. Not by effort and 'resilience'.

It is useless to continue spending one's life propping up dead branches, keeping up sophisticated ideas or traditions, even if they are well established, squandering attention and energy to support things that have no future (v.22).

How do we find energy within ourselves when we are, for example, hindered and despised?

From the earliest times the Risen One was not identified as a mere model of hardship and humiliation, to be "imitated".

The Lord was a non-exterior motive and an (all-intimate) engine of new life. This is the point.

In religions only one "matter" is taught: the story and style of the Founder, who makes you learn splendid "notions" and heroic deeds.

In the spirituality of the Passage in Christ to other shores [v.18] one can only be in synergy with the Source that gushes within.

Growth will be true to one's Seed. Flowering will be commensurate with one's Roots and the flowing of the Sap, not with the prominence of the leaves.

In the adventure of Faith our Core generates us and brings us into relationship with ourselves, others and things, in the most diverse way.

Love is spontaneous and risky; it never has the outline of standard mechanisms.

In the following of the Lord, there is sobriety, yet there is a lack of predetermined patterns. As in Friendship: it too is "unsafe", but there is a Source.

So one does not waste one's life embalming graveyard chimeras, or chasing other people's ideas, disembodied fantasies, (or dehumanising violence) fashionable, which crumble us inside.

It is the personal unseen that in our travails continues to convey creative joy - and makes us take to the field, to remain qualitative and profound.

The lack of imposed binaries - typical of religions - teaches the Road of spontaneity that opens astounding breaches.

Nature itself recovers opposites and sides in the shadows, or shaky, considered superfluous.

Here we tap into the genuineness of our particular essence, transparently and uncontaminated by cerebral or customary taboos.

Discovering it to be more multifaceted than we thought.

Moving away from obvious judgements (and getting along with the mannerisms around) we are introduced to the Free Way of vocational independence and richness.

Under the action of the Spirit, it will be in real danger that each one will finally access the mystical dimension of the Sequela.

We will do so with polish and to the point of building the unthought-of completeness and Happiness for self and all.

Sometimes we, too, keep asking ourselves whether that Path we are treading is actually "ours".

And perhaps we continue to feel the vertigo or fear of the constant crossings - of a task too great, for such an inferior 'I', incapable of constant, recognised performance.

But right here, without scaffolding, personally encountering the Lord, we perceived and felt with our whole being his subtle Appeal:

"Do not forsake thyself: Me in thee".

To internalise and live the message:

What made you decide for the crossing? How did you leave everything or opinions behind?

Where do you share the hardship and joy of the intense and personal apostolate (e.g. in the cloister) or of the new evangelisation (e.g. among the slums)?

Do you do your utmost for the education of young people with varied training, and the action of dialogue and listening to those far away?

How do you approach the hardships and shady areas that you do not expect? Do you return to the reassuring den and nest?

The biblical readings of the Holy Mass [...] give me the opportunity to take up the theme of Christ's call and its requirements, a topic on which I also reflected a week ago, on the occasion of the ordinations of the new priests for the Diocese of Rome. In fact, those who have the good fortune to know a young man or woman who leaves the family and studies and works in order to consecrate him- or herself to God know well what is involved, for they have before them a living example of a radical response to the divine call. This is one of the most beautiful experiences one can have in the Church: seeing and actually touching the Lord's action in people's lives; experiencing that God is not an abstract entity but a reality so great and strong that it fills human hearts to overflowing, he is a Person, alive and close, who loves us and asks to be loved.

The Evangelist Luke presents to us Jesus, walking to Jerusalem, who meets some men on the road probably young men who promise they will follow him wherever he goes. Jesus proves very demanding with them and warns them that "the Son of Man", namely, the Messiah, "has nowhere to lay his head" that is to say, he has no permanent dwelling place of his own and that those who choose to work with him in God's field cannot turn back (cf. Lk 9:57-58; 61-62). On the other hand Christ says to someone else: "Follow me", asking him to sever completely his ties with his family (cf. Lk 9:59-60). These requirements may seem too harsh but in fact they express the newness and absolute priority of the Kingdom of God that is made present in the very Person of Jesus Christ. All things considered, it is a question of that radicalism that is due to the Love of God, whom Jesus himself was the first to obey. Those who give up everything, even themselves, to follow Jesus, enter into a new dimension of freedom that St Paul defines as "walk[ing] by the Spirit" (cf. Gal 5:16). "For freedom Christ has set us free", the Apostle writes, and he explains that this new form of freedom acquired from Christ consists in being "servants of one another" (Gal 5:1, 13). Freedom and love coincide! On the contrary, complying with one's own egoism leads to rivalry and conflict.

Dear friends, the month of June, characterized by the devotion to the Sacred Heart of Christ, is now coming to an end. On the Feast of the Sacred Heart we renewed our commitment to sanctification together with the priests of the whole world. Today, I would like to invite everyone to contemplate the mystery of the divine and human Heart of the Lord Jesus, to draw from the very source of God's Love. Those who fix their gaze on that pierced Heart that is ever open for our love sense the truth of this invocation: "You are my inheritance O Lord" (Responsorial Psalm), and are prepared to leave everything to follow the Lord. O Mary, who answered the divine call without reserve, pray for us!

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 27 June 2010]

1. Among the requests for renunciation made by Jesus to his disciples, there is the one concerning earthly goods, and in particular wealth (cf. Mt 19:21; Mk 10:21; Lk 12:33; 18:22). It is a request addressed to all Christians regarding the spirit of poverty, that is, the inner detachment from earthly goods, detachment that makes one generous in sharing them with others. Poverty is a life commitment inspired by faith in Christ and love for Him. It is a spirit. that also demands a practice, in a measure of renunciation of goods that corresponds to each person's condition both in civil life and in the state in which they find themselves in the Church by virtue of their Christian vocation, whether as an individual or as a member of a particular class of people. The spirit of poverty applies to all; a certain practice in conformity with the Gospel is necessary for each one.

2. The poverty Jesus demanded of the Apostles is a strand of spirituality that could not end with them, nor could it be reduced to particular groups: the spirit of poverty is necessary for everyone, in every place and at every time; to fail to do so would be to betray the Gospel. However, fidelity to the spirit does not imply, either for Christians in general or for priests, the practice of radical poverty with the renunciation of all property, or even the abolition of this human right. The Magisterium of the Church has repeatedly condemned those who advocated this necessity (cf. Denz. 760; 930-931; 1097), seeking to lead thought and practice along a path of moderation. However, it is comforting to note that, in the evolution of the times and under the influence of so many ancient and modern saints, the awareness of a call to evangelical poverty, both in spirit and in practice, in correlation with the demands of priestly consecration, has matured more and more in the clergy. The social and economic situations in which the clergy have found themselves in almost all the countries of the world have contributed to making the condition of real poverty of persons and institutions a reality, even when these by their very nature need many means to be able to fulfil their tasks. In many cases it is a difficult and distressing condition, which the Church tries to overcome in various ways, and mainly by appealing to the charity of the faithful to obtain from them the necessary contribution to provide for worship, works of charity, the maintenance of pastors of souls, and missionary initiatives. But the acquisition of a new sense of poverty is a blessing for priestly life, as for that of all Christians, because it allows one to better adapt to the counsels and proposals of Jesus.

3. Evangelical poverty - it is opportune to clarify this - does not entail contempt for earthly goods, made available by God to man for his life and for his collaboration in the design of creation. According to the Second Vatican Council, the presbyter - like every other Christian -, having a mission of praise and thanksgiving, must recognise and magnify the generosity of the heavenly Father which is revealed in created goods (Presbyterorum Ordinis, 17).

However, the Council adds, Presbyters, while living in the midst of the world must always keep in mind that, as the Lord has said, they do not belong to the world (cf. Jn 17:14-16), and must therefore free themselves from all disordered attachments, in order to acquire "the spiritual discretion that enables them to place themselves in right relationship with the world and earthly realities" (Ibid; cf. Pastores dabo vobis, 30). It must be recognised that this is a delicate issue. On the one hand, "the Church's mission takes place in the midst of the world, and created goods are entirely necessary for man's personal development. Jesus did not forbid his Apostles to accept the goods necessary for their earthly existence. On the contrary, he affirmed their right in this regard when he said in a mission speech: "Eat and drink of what they have, for the worker is worthy of his wages" (Lk 10:7; cf. Mt 10:10). St Paul reminds the Corinthians that "the Lord has ordained that those who proclaim the gospel should live by the gospel" (1 Cor 9:14). He himself insistently prescribes that "those who are instructed in doctrine should share in what they have with those who instruct them" (Gal 6:6). It is right, therefore, that presbyters should have earthly goods and use them "for those purposes for which they can be used, in accordance with the doctrine of Christ the Lord and the guidelines of the Church" (PO 17). The Council did not fail to propose concrete indications in this regard.

First of all, the administration of ecclesiastical goods proper must be ensured 'according to the norms of ecclesiastical laws, and possibly with the help of lay experts'. These goods must always be used for "the ordering of divine worship, the dignified maintenance of the clergy, the support of works of the apostolate and charity, especially for the poor" (Ibid.).The goods procured from the exercise of some ecclesiastical office are to be used first of all 'for one's own honest maintenance and for the fulfilment of the duties of one's state; the remainder is to be used for the good of the Church and for works of charity'. This must be particularly emphasised: the ecclesiastical office cannot be for presbyters - and not even for bishops - an opportunity for personal enrichment or profit for their families. "Priests, therefore, without becoming in any way attached to riches, must avoid all covetousness and abstain from any kind of commerce" (Ibid). In any case, it must be borne in mind that everything, in the use of goods, must be carried out in the light of the Gospel.

4. The same must be said about the presbyter's involvement in profane activities, that is, pertaining to the handling of earthly affairs outside the religious and sacred sphere. The 1971 Synod of Bishops declared that, 'as an ordinary rule, full time must be given to the priestly ministry ... In fact, participation in the secular activities of men is not to be considered as the main purpose, nor can it suffice to express the specific responsibility of priests' (Ench. Vat., IV, 1191).This was a stance taken in the face of the tendency, which had appeared here and there, towards the secularisation of the Priest's activity, in the sense that he could engage, like the laity, in the exercise of a secular trade or profession.

It is true that there are circumstances in which the only effective way to reconnect with the Church a working environment that ignores Christ can be the presence of Priests who exercise a trade in such an environment, becoming, for example, labourers with labourers. The generosity of these Priests is worthy of praise. It should be noted, however, that by taking on profane and secular tasks and positions, the Priest runs the risk of reducing his sacred ministry to a secondary role, or even of eliding it. Because of this risk, which had been reflected in experience, the Council had already emphasised the need for the approval of the competent authority to exercise a manual trade, sharing the living conditions of workers (cf. PO 8). The Synod of 1971 gave, as a rule to be followed, the appropriateness, or otherwise, of a certain commitment to secular work with the aims of the priesthood 'in the judgement of the local bishop with his presbyterate, and after consulting - as far as is necessary - the Episcopal Conference' (Ench. Vat., IV, 1192).

On the other hand, it is clear that there are today, as in the past, special cases in which some particularly gifted and prepared presbyters can carry out an activity in fields of work or culture that are not directly ecclesial. However, every effort must be made to ensure that these remain exceptional cases. And even then, the criterion set by the Synod will always have to be applied if one wishes to be faithful to the Gospel and the Church.

5. We shall conclude this catechesis by turning once again to the figure of Jesus Christ, High Priest, good Shepherd and supreme exemplar of priests. He is the model of the spoliation of earthly goods for the priest who wants to conform to the requirement of evangelical poverty. For Jesus was born and lived in poverty. St Paul admonished: 'From being rich that he was, he became poor for your sake' (2 Cor 8:9). Jesus himself, to one who wanted to follow him, said of himself: "Foxes have their dens and birds of the air their nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head" (Lk 9:57). These words manifest a complete detachment from all earthly comforts. It should not be concluded, however, that Jesus lived in misery. Other passages in the Gospels report that he received and accepted invitations to the homes of rich people (cf. Mt 9:10-11; Mk 2:15-16; Lk 5:29; 7:36; 19:5-6), had female co-workers to support him in his financial needs (Lk 8:2-3; cf. Mt 27:55; Mk 15:40; Lk 23:55-56) and was able to give alms to the poor (cf. Jn 13:29). There is no doubt, however, about the life and spirit of poverty that characterised Him.

The same spirit of poverty will have to animate the conduct of the Priest, characterising his attitude, his life and the very figure of a pastor and man of God. It will translate into disinterestedness and detachment from money, in the renunciation of all greed for the possession of earthly goods, in a simple lifestyle, in the choice of a modest dwelling accessible to all, in the rejection of everything that is or even appears to be luxurious, in a growing tendency towards gratuitousness in dedication to the service of God and the faithful.

6. Finally, let us add that, being called by Jesus and according to his example, to "evangelise the poor", "presbyters - as well as bishops - will seek to avoid anything that could in any way lead the poor to stray" (PO 17). Instead, by nourishing in themselves the evangelical spirit of poverty, they will find themselves in a position to show their preferential option for the poor, translating it into sharing, in personal and community works of help, including material help to the needy. It is a witness to the Poor Christ that comes today from so many priests, the poor and friends of the poor. It is a great flame of love lit in the life of the clergy and the Church. If the clergy could sometimes appear in some places among the categories of the rich, today they feel honoured, with the whole Church, to be in the front row among the "new poor". This is great progress in following Christ on the way of the Gospel.

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 21 July 1993]

I am glad to welcome you to my first General Audience. With deep gratitude and reverence I take up the “witness” from the hands of Benedict XVI, my beloved Predecessor. After Easter we shall resume the Catecheses for the Year of Faith. Today I would like to reflect a little on Holy Week. We began this Week with Palm Sunday — the heart of the whole Liturgical Year — in which we accompany Jesus in his Passion, death and Resurrection.

But what does living Holy Week mean to us? What does following Jesus on his journey to Calvary on his way to the Cross and the Resurrection mean? In his earthly mission Jesus walked the roads of the Holy Land; he called 12 simple people to stay with him, to share his journey and to continue his mission. He chose them from among the people full of faith in God’s promises. He spoke to all without distinction: the great and the lowly, the rich young man and the poor widow, the powerful and the weak; he brought God’s mercy and forgiveness; he healed, he comforted, he understood; he gave hope; he brought to all the presence of God who cares for every man and every woman, just as a good father and a good mother care for each one of their children.

God does not wait for us to go to him but it is he who moves towards us, without calculation, without quantification. That is what God is like. He always takes the first step, he comes towards us.

Jesus lived the daily reality of the most ordinary people: he was moved as he faced the crowd that seemed like a flock without a shepherd; he wept before the sorrow that Martha and Mary felt at the death of their brother, Lazarus; he called a publican to be his disciple; he also suffered betrayal by a friend. In him God has given us the certitude that he is with us, he is among us. “Foxes”, he, Jesus, said, “have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of man has nowhere to lay his head” (Mt 8:20). Jesus has no house, because his house is the people, it is we who are his dwelling place, his mission is to open God’s doors to all, to be the presence of God’s love.

In Holy Week we live the crowning moment of this journey, of this plan of love that runs through the entire history of the relations between God and humanity. Jesus enters Jerusalem to take his last step with which he sums up the whole of his existence. He gives himself without reserve, he keeps nothing for himself, not even life. At the Last Supper, with his friends, he breaks the bread and passes the cup round “for us”. The Son of God offers himself to us, he puts his Body and his Blood into our hands, so as to be with us always, to dwell among us. And in the Garden of Olives, and likewise in the trial before Pilate, he puts up no resistance, he gives himself; he is the suffering Servant, foretold by Isaiah, who empties himself, even unto death (cf. Is 53:12).

Jesus does not experience this love that leads to his sacrifice passively or as a fatal destiny. He does not of course conceal his deep human distress as he faces a violent death, but with absolute trust commends himself to the Father. Jesus gave himself up to death voluntarily in order to reciprocate the love of God the Father, in perfect union with his will, to demonstrate his love for us. On the Cross Jesus “loved me and gave himself for me” (Gal 2:20). Each one of us can say: “he loved me and gave himself for me”. Each one can say this “for me”.

What is the meaning of all this for us? It means that this is my, your and our road too. Living Holy Week, following Jesus not only with the emotion of the heart; living Holy Week, following Jesus means learning to come out of ourselves — as I said last Sunday — in order to go to meet others, to go towards the outskirts of existence, to be the first to take a step towards our brothers and our sisters, especially those who are the most distant, those who are forgotten, those who are most in need of understanding, comfort and help. There is such a great need to bring the living presence of Jesus, merciful and full of love!

Living Holy Week means entering ever more deeply into the logic of God, into the logic of the Cross, which is not primarily that of suffering and death, but rather that of love and of the gift of self which brings life. It means entering into the logic of the Gospel. Following and accompanying Christ, staying with him, demands “coming out of ourselves”, requires us to be outgoing; to come out of ourselves, out of a dreary way of living faith that has become a habit, out of the temptation to withdraw into our own plans which end by shutting out God’s creative action.

God came out of himself to come among us, he pitched his tent among us to bring to us his mercy that saves and gives hope. Nor must we be satisfied with staying in the pen of the 99 sheep if we want to follow him and to remain with him; we too must “go out” with him to seek the lost sheep, the one that has strayed the furthest. Be sure to remember: coming out of ourselves, just as Jesus, just as God came out of himself in Jesus and Jesus came out of himself for all of us.

Someone might say to me: “but Father, I don’t have time”, “I have so many things to do”, “it’s difficult”, “what can I do with my feebleness and my sins, with so many things?”. We are often satisfied with a few prayers, with a distracted and sporadic participation in Sunday Mass, with a few charitable acts; but we do not have the courage “to come out” to bring Christ to others. We are a bit like St Peter. As soon as Jesus speaks of his Passion, death and Resurrection, of the gift of himself, of love for all, the Apostle takes him aside and reproaches him. What Jesus says upsets his plans, seems unacceptable, threatens the security he had built for himself, his idea of the Messiah. And Jesus looks at his disciples and addresses to Peter what may possibly be the harshest words in the Gospels: “Get behind me Satan! For you are not on the side of God, but of men” (Mk 8:33). God always thinks with mercy: do not forget this. God always thinks mercifully. He is the merciful Father! God thinks like the father waiting for the son and goes to meet him, he spots him coming when he is still far off....

What does this mean? That he went every day to see if his son was coming home: this is our merciful Father. It indicates that he was waiting for him with longing on the terrace of his house. God thinks like the Samaritan who did not pass by the unfortunate man, pitying him or looking at him from the other side of the road, but helped him without asking for anything in return; without asking whether he was a Jew, a pagan or a Samaritan, whether he was rich or poor: he asked for nothing. He went to help him: God is like this. God thinks like the shepherd who lays down his life in order to defend and save his sheep.

Holy Week is a time of grace which the Lord gives us to open the doors of our heart, of our life, of our parishes — what a pity so many parishes are closed! — of the movements, of the associations; and “to come out” in order to meet others, to make ourselves close, to bring them the light and joy of our faith. To come out always! And to do so with God’s love and tenderness, with respect and with patience, knowing that God takes our hands, our feet, our heart, and guides them and makes all our actions fruitful.

I hope that we all will live these days well, following the Lord courageously, carrying within us a ray of his love for all those we meet.

[Pope Francis, General Audience 27 March 2013]

(Mt 16:13-19)

Over half of his public life, Jesus has not yet given formulas, but He raises a demanding question - which claims to ask us much more than the usual expressions with a legal structure.

The crowd may have approached Him to eminent characters such as the Baptist [the one who proved to be alien to courtiers] or Elijah [for his activity of denouncing idols] or Jeremiah [the opponent of the blessings’ sale].

But He didn’t come - like ancient prophets - to improve the situation or to regret and mend devotions, nor to purify the Temple, but to replace it!

The images of tradition depict Christ in many ways (for atheists a philanthropist), the most widespread of which is still that of an ancient Lord, guarantor of conventional behavior.

Instead - to make us reflect - He takes the disciples to a construction site environment [north of Palestine, Caesarea Philippi was under construction], far from the interested nomenclature of the "holy" City.

Common mentality evaluated the life’ success - and the truth of a religion - on the basis of glory, domination, enrichment, and security in general.

The question that Jesus rises his disciples leaks a novelty that supplants the whole system: the Call is addressed to every single person.

It’s a border proposal, like the symbolic geographical place of the capital of the reign of Philip, one of the three heir sons of Herod the Great: in Palestine, the farthest point from the center of conformist religiosity.

The Face of the «Son of man» is recognizable only by placing maximum distance from political and veterans schemes - otherwise we too would not be able to perceive His personal ‘light’.

In the community of Mt, an increasingly large participation of pagans was being experienced, who previously felt excluded and gradually integrated.

For our mentality, the house keys are used to close and tighten the door, to prevent the attackers from entering.

In the Semitic one, they were rather an icon of the door’s opening.

In Perugino’s famous masterpiece on the north wall of the Sistine Chapel, Jesus gives the head of the Church two keys: the golden one of Paradise and the silver of Purgatory.

But the meaning of the passage is not the Afterlife - on the contrary, it’s not even institutional. In Hebrew the term ‘key’ is derived from the verb ‘to open’!

The greatest missionary task of community leaders is to keep the Kingdom of Heaven wide open, that is, to ensure a welcoming Church!

Peter mustn’t trace the type of arrogant monarch, image of authority; emperor’ substitute.

Simon must take first responsibility for the acceptance of those who are outside.

It seems strange for any ancient proposal, where God was supposed to be afraid of becoming impure in contact with the world.

The Father is the One who dares the most.

This is the reason why Jesus strictly imposes a total messianic silence (v.20) on the lips and the ancient brain of the Apostles.

Peter and the disciples wanted to return to the usual idea of «the» Messiah [cf. Greek text] expected by everyone.

An all too normal canvas, incapable of regenerating us.

[St Peter and Paul, June 29]

Solemnity of Saints Peter and Paul, 29 June

Disparate: difference between religiosity and faith (the Church to come)

On the same date, the Church celebrates two dissimilar disciples.

Both are far removed from models of conformity and eccentricity - indeed, they are digressive, unsettling and restless.

One grows by accumulating uncertain experiences: a little like Peter (stubborn and hostile), a little like Simon (a disciple, but rarely), a little like Simon Peter (pro and con, with one foot in both camps).

The other grows, yes, but through an immediate fall from the ideology of being and feeling purer and higher than others:

in an instant, from the fiery 'steed' of the leaders and judges to the working class capable of listening and benevolence.

Suddenly, from Saul to Paul.

The first, an apostle out of eagerness and long habit [in coming and going], the other by direct calling. Not by the laying on of hands by superiors with pious lives who should have known better than him.

An immediate vocation - it upsets and overturns the way of seeing things.

Neither of the two protagonists was a devout and obedient son: both were rather stubborn and eager, but each in his own way; one uncertain and diplomatic, the other sharp.

For a long time they were restless and even opposed to Christ.

Even in the Proclamation, Catechesis, Animation, Pastoral Care and works of charity, we begin to realise that the starting point of Evangelisation is not the usual, reassuring one, which only teaches others [and transmits false security].

The input is to raise questions that involve people personally.

And any initiative is useful first and foremost to improve those who propose it - not the crowds who would otherwise remain unaware.

This is the cornerstone of the attitude towards the fullness of good and the fulfilment of every human being.

In the unity of the Faith, diverse gifts come together.

We are not called to be paternalistic or firefighters, rushing to extinguish fires that we do not even know about but which burn brightly (only beyond the chimney of our own homes).

The Church of the future also depends on our mindset.

The cornerstone of living Tradition is believing in the world to come - not despite, but because of its differences.

Divine love manifests itself, makes itself present, intervenes in many ways.

The sparks that fuel the Flame of the Spirit are varied: they all illuminate and warm the world... unless we build a wall of refractory material around them.

This sometimes happens in the territory, at the hands of consortia. With young people's cunning already normalised, or old fogies afraid of losing the privileges on which they float.

A landscape of cunning and still waters, already dead.

But in the personal Christ, even our insecurity opens unexplored paths to new worlds.

Every missionary knows that his 'certainty' is the fruit of a question mark.

An added value that he does not know; the product of a primordial force that arises from the chaos of his own or others' predictability.

The varied formation and even the turmoil of the facets become a place of Peace.

Possibility of the Immense, rather than a foothold for retreat under penalty of punishment typical of religious condemnation.

While doctrine and discipline instil certainties and stubborn expectations that would make us travel only on tracks already laid out, Faith allows itself to be guided by Providence manifested in real life, which surprises us.

An adherence, a creative relationship - Faith - with a mysterious Energy, always pure, clear, transparent, intact, uncontaminated.

An appeal by name that brings us face to face with ourselves and God, without ever depersonalising.

Only in this way can we achieve harmony. This is the church of the future.

In fact, those who are uncertain and cannot immediately draw conclusions go all the way: they do not abandon, marginalise or betray; they do not use their religious position as a weapon of blackmail.

They do no harm.

'When the weaver raises one foot, the other lowers. When the movement stops and one of the feet stops, the fabric is no longer woven. His hands throw the shuttle from one to the other, but no hand can hope to hold it. Like the weaver's gestures, it is the union of opposites that weaves our life'.

[African Peul oral tradition]

Homage to the Polyhedron and not to the Sphere. Diversity and Plurality mean space for each of us, as we are. Expanded, not 'better'.

Not homogeneous, not regular, not standardised. Even if the local chain of command does not want it.

Homage to the Church? Not the uniform and standard one. The strange couple Peter and Paul were not.

Homage to the Church, Homage to Life.

Who I Am to you, and the Keys to the open community

(Mt 16:13-23)

At more than halfway through his public life Jesus has not yet given formulas, but he asks a challenging question - one that purports to ask much more than the usual law-structured expressions.

Globally, the crowd may have likened him to such eminent figures as the Baptist [the one who proved to be a stranger to courtesies] or Elijah [for his denunciation of idols] or Jeremiah [the opponent of the buying and selling of blessings].

But He did not come - like the ancient prophets - to improve the situation or mend devotions, nor to purify the Temple, but to replace it!

The images of tradition depict Christ in many ways (for atheists, a philanthropist), the most common of which is still that of an ancient Lord, guarantor of conventional behaviour.

Instead - to give us pause for thought - he takes the disciples to a construction site [in northern Palestine, Caesarea Philippi was under construction], far from the interested nomenclature of the 'holy' City.

The common mentality evaluated the success of life - and the truth of a religion - on the basis of success, domination, enrichment, security in general.

The question that Jesus poses to his disciples reveals a novelty that supersedes the whole system: the Call is addressed to each and every person.

It is a boundary proposal, as is the symbolic geographical location of the capital of the kingdom of Philip, one of the three heir sons of Herod the Great: in Palestine, the furthest point from the centre of conformist religiosity.

The Face of the 'Son of Man' is recognisable only by placing the greatest distance from political and veteran schemes - otherwise we too would not be able to perceive his personal 'light'.

In the congregation of Mt, we were precisely experiencing an increasing participation of pagans, who previously felt excluded and gradually became integrated.

To our mentality, the keys of the house are used to close and lock the door, so as not to let the ill-intentioned in.

In the Semitic one, they were rather an icon of the opening of the door.

In Perugino's famous masterpiece on the north wall of the Sistine Chapel, Jesus gives the head of the Church two keys: the golden one to Paradise and the silver one to Purgatory.

But the meaning of the passage is not the Afterlife - indeed, it is not even institutional. In Hebrew the term 'key' is derived from the verb 'to open'!

The greatest missionary task of community leaders is to keep the Kingdom of Heaven wide open, that is, to ensure a welcoming Church!

Peter must not follow the type of the arrogant monarch, the image of authority; a substitute for the emperor.

Simon must make himself primarily responsible for the acceptance of those outside.

This seems strange for any ancient proposal, where God was supposed to fear making Himself impure in contact with the world.

The Father is the One who dares most.

This is why Jesus severely imposes a total messianic silence (v.20) on the lips and ancient brain of the Apostles.

Peter and the disciples wanted to return to the usual idea of 'the' Messiah [cf. Greek text] expected by all.

An all-too-common plot, incapable of regenerating us.

But who do you say that I am? Peter's Faith

Distancing oneself from what is hoped for

Jesus leads his own away from the territory of power ideology and the sacred centre of the official religious institution - Judea.

The Lord wants his intimates to distance themselves from limitations and appreciation.

The relative success of the Master in Galilee had indeed revived the apostles' hopes of (one-sided) glory.

The territory of Caesarea Philippi, in the extreme north of Palestine, was enchanting; famous for fertility and lush pastures. An area famous for the beauty of its surroundings and the fertility of flocks and herds.

Even the disciples were fascinated by the landscape and the affluent life of the region's inhabitants; not to mention the magnificence of the buildings.

The call of context alludes to the affluence that pagan religion generally proposes; excessive prosperity that enchanted the Twelve.

Christ asks the apostles - in practice - what the people expected of Him. So he wants them to realise the nefarious effects of their own preaching.

'Announcement' that willingly confused material and spiritual blessings.

While the gods show they know how to shower their devotees with goods - and a lavish court life that (indeed) beguiled all - what does Christ offer?

The Master realises that the disciples were still strongly conditioned by the propaganda of the political and religious government [vv.6.11] that ensured well-being [vv.5-12; cf. Mt 15:32-38].

And Jesus still instructs them, so that at least his envoys can overcome the blindness and crisis produced by his Cross (v.21), the commitment required in the perspective of self-giving.He is not merely a continuer of the Baptist's clear-headed attitude, never inclined to compromise with the courts and opulence; nor is he one of the many restorers of the law of Moses, with the zeal of Elijah.

Nor did he want to limit himself to purifying religion of spurious elements, but even to replace the Temple [Mt 21:12-17.18-19.42; 23:2.37-39; 24:30] - the place of encounter between the Father and his children.

On this issue, not only the distance with paganism, but also the contrasts between Jews who had converted to the Lord and those who were observant according to tradition, were particularly vivid at that time.

Indeed, the sacred books of late Judaism spoke of great figures who had left their mark on the history of Israel, and were to reappear to usher in the messianic times.

Even within the persecuted communities of Galilee and Syria, Mt notes a lack of understanding, and all the difficulty of embracing the new proposal - which did not guarantee success and recognition, nor immediate goals.

(From the earliest generations it was realised that the Faith does not easily accord with early human impulses.)

Thus the Master contradicts Peter himself [vv.20.23] whose opinion remained tied to the conformist and popular idea of "the" [vv.16.20: "that"] expected Messiah.

In short, the leader of the apostles - so weak in Faith - can stop showing Christ which way to go "behind" him [v.23] by diverting him!

Simon has to start being a student again; stop plotting recognised and opportunistic ways for everyone, hijacking God in the name of God.

The Lord is the One who dares most.

A special note on the subject of the Name:

While for our culture it is often a label, among Eastern peoples the name is one with the person, designating them in a special way.

As is evident e.g. in the "second" commandment, the power of the Name carries great weight: it is a knowing of the (divine) Subject in the essence and meaning of action; almost a taking possession of its power.

Even in our prayerful, spiritual and mystical tradition, the proper name (e.g. Jesus) has often been considered almost an acoustic icon of the person, inclusive of his virtues; evocative of his presence and power.

In ancient cultures, pronouncing the name meant being able to grasp the seed, the pregnant and global core of the figure of reference.

Not infrequently, in our mentality too, it meant expressing an omen, a mandate, a wish, a blessing, a vocation, a destiny, a task, a call, a mission [nomen (est) omen].

But here we measure the difference between sacral mentality and faith. In religions, the proper name that the master or founder bestows on the disciple is a sort of signpost: he who lacks the acumen or fortune, strength and courage to realise it, would diminish in dignity.

Instead, Christ with his callings calls us to a path, certainly - but one deeply commensurate with the essence.

He stimulates the exodus - not according to models - because he first brings the person back into himself. So that we all come into play in the depths and to the extreme that corresponds.

First step: meeting each other in the round; in the different, even surprising, unexpressed or unknown sides - generally, unimaginable characters according to rules and nomenclature.

Even our eccentric, ambiguous, shadowy or even rejected ways of being in the first person: the best sides of ourselves will be revealed along the Way.

Only in this plural track do we find the way to an adventure full of meaning; not mechanical, nor repetitive - but resembling life: always new and authentic.

Not from facade or calculating externality: there is an Author's signature that precedes, in the building up of ourselves and the world.

Passing among the various building sites in the city of Philip, Jesus instead compared Simon to the inert and piled-up (even confusing) materials he found in front of him.

That condition captured the root of apostolic expectations!

The disciples did not yet give space to the Mystery within themselves, to the idea of a secret salvation, which erupts with its own, innate energy; which surpasses ordinary dreams.

Cephas in fact derives from the Aramaic Kefas: building stone; something hard: practically, a stubborn like many; nothing special, indeed. Jesus gives Simon a negative nickname!

In fact, the Greek word 'petros' [v.18] is not a proper name: it indicates a stone (picked up from the ground) that can be useful for a construction - if of course it allows itself to be shaped. And which not only supports, but is supported; which not only aggregates, but is aggregated.

Attention: the Greek term "petra" [v.18] is not the feminine of "petros": it indicates "rock", and refers to the Person of Christ as the only security (together with Faith in Him).

An appellation that unpredictably changes a whole life. For only the inner Friend draws from our [even bad] baggage the unpredictable that springs forth.

Each one is chiselled by the Lord according to the name Peter, in the sense of a particular piece, an individual and special element.

Placed singularly but in a large mosaic: that of salvation history, where each one is at the same time himself and in a continuous phase of regeneration.

The only feeling of belonging of the many building stones (all living): the conviviality of differences, the communion of disparate fraternal members in the ministerial Church.

None forever, but everywhere (unceasingly) pulsating nuclei of a summary institution all gathered from the ground... Freed free.

Solemnity of Saints Peter and Paul, 29 June

Disparate: difference between religiosity and faith (the Church to come)

On the same date, the Church celebrates two dissimilar disciples.

Both are far removed from models of conformity and eccentricity - indeed, they are digressive, unsettling and restless.

One grows by accumulating uncertain experiences: a little like Peter (stubborn and hostile), a little like Simon (a disciple, but rarely), a little like Simon Peter (pro and con, with one foot in both camps).

The other grows, yes, but through an immediate fall from the ideology of being and feeling purer and higher than others:

in an instant, from the fiery 'steed' of the leaders and judges to the working class capable of listening and benevolence.

Suddenly, from Saul to Paul.

The first, an apostle out of eagerness and long habit [in coming and going], the other by direct calling. Not by the laying on of hands by superiors with pious lives who should have known better than him.

An immediate vocation - it upsets and overturns the way of seeing things.

Neither of the two protagonists was a devout and obedient son: both were rather stubborn and eager, but each in his own way; one uncertain and diplomatic, the other sharp.

For a long time they were restless and even opposed to Christ.

Even in the Proclamation, Catechesis, Animation, Pastoral Care and works of charity, we begin to realise that the starting point of Evangelisation is not the usual, reassuring one, which only teaches others [and transmits false security].

The input is to raise questions that involve people personally.

And any initiative is useful first and foremost to improve those who propose it - not the crowds who would otherwise remain unaware.

This is the cornerstone of the attitude towards the fullness of good and the fulfilment of every human being.

In the unity of the Faith, diverse gifts come together.

We are not called to be paternalistic or firefighters, rushing to extinguish fires that we do not even know about but which burn brightly (only beyond the chimney of our own homes).

The Church of the future also depends on our mindset.

The cornerstone of living Tradition is believing in the world to come - not despite, but because of its differences.

Divine love manifests itself, makes itself present, intervenes in many ways.

The sparks that fuel the Flame of the Spirit are varied: they all illuminate and warm the world... unless we build a wall of refractory material around them.

This sometimes happens in the territory, at the hands of consortia. With young people's cunning already normalised, or old fogies afraid of losing the privileges on which they float.

A landscape of cunning and still waters, already dead.

But in the personal Christ, even our insecurity opens unexplored paths to new worlds.

Every missionary knows that his 'certainty' is the fruit of a question mark.

An added value that he does not know; the product of a primordial force that arises from the chaos of his own or others' predictability.

The varied formation and even the turmoil of the facets become a place of Peace.

Possibility of the Immense, rather than a foothold for retreat under penalty of punishment typical of religious condemnation.

While doctrine and discipline instil certainties and stubborn expectations that would make us travel only on tracks already laid out, Faith allows itself to be guided by Providence manifested in real life, which surprises us.

An adherence, a creative relationship - Faith - with a mysterious Energy, always pure, clear, transparent, intact, uncontaminated.

An appeal by name that brings us face to face with ourselves and God, without ever depersonalising.

Only in this way can we achieve harmony. This is the church of the future.

In fact, those who are uncertain and cannot immediately draw conclusions go all the way: they do not abandon, marginalise or betray; they do not use their religious position as a weapon of blackmail.

They do no harm.

'When the weaver raises one foot, the other lowers. When the movement stops and one of the feet stops, the fabric is no longer woven. His hands throw the shuttle from one to the other, but no hand can hope to hold it. Like the weaver's gestures, it is the union of opposites that weaves our life'.

[African Peul oral tradition]

Homage to the Polyhedron and not to the Sphere. Diversity and Plurality mean space for each of us, as we are. Expanded, not 'better'.

Not homogeneous, not regular, not standardised. Even if the local chain of command does not want it.

Homage to the Church? Not the uniform and standard one. The strange couple Peter and Paul were not.

Homage to the Church, Homage to Life.

Catholicity means universality - a multiplicity that becomes unity; a unity that nevertheless remains multiplicity. From Paul's words on the Church's universality we have already seen that the ability of nations to get the better of themselves in order to look towards the one God, is part of this unity. In the second century, the founder of Catholic theology, St Irenaeus of Lyons, described very beautifully this bond between catholicity and unity and I quote him. He says: "The Church spread across the world diligently safeguards this doctrine and this faith, forming as it were one family: the same faith, with one mind and one heart, the same preaching, teaching and tradition as if she had but one mouth. Languages abound according to the region but the power of our tradition is one and the same. The Churches in Germany do not differ in faith or tradition, neither do those in Spain, Gaul, Egypt, Libya, the Orient, the centre of the earth; just as the sun, God's creature, is one alone and identical throughout the world, so the light of true preaching shines everywhere and illuminates all who desire to attain knowledge of the truth" (Adv. Haer. I 10, 2). The unity of men and women in their multiplicity has become possible because God, this one God of heaven and earth, has shown himself to us; because the essential truth about our lives, our "where from?" and "where to?" became visible when he revealed himself to us and enabled us to see his face, himself, in Jesus Christ. This truth about the essence of our being, living and dying, a truth that God made visible, unites us and makes us brothers and sisters. Catholicity and unity go hand in hand. And unity has a content: the faith that the Apostles passed on to us in Christ's name.

[Pope Benedict, 29 June 2005]

1. "Who do you say that I am?" (Mt 16: 15).

Jesus asks the disciples this question about his identity while he is with them in upper Galilee. It often happened that they would ask Jesus questions; now it is he who questions them. His is a precise question that awaits an answer. Simon Peter speaks for them all:  "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God" (Mt 16: 16).

The answer is extraordinarily clear. The Church's faith is perfectly reflected in it. We are reflected in it too. The Bishop of Rome, his unworthy successor by divine will, is particularly reflected in Peter's words. Around him and with him you are reflected in these words, dear Metropolitan Archbishops, who have come here from many parts of the world to receive the pallium on the Solemnity of Sts Peter and Paul.

I offer my cordial greetings to each of you, a greeting which I gladly extend to those who have accompanied you to Rome and to your communities who are spiritually united with us on this solemn occasion.

2. "You are the Christ!". Jesus replies to Peter's confession:  "Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jona! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven" (Mt 16: 17).

Blessed are you, Peter! Blessed because you could not have humanly recognized this truth, which is central to the Church's faith, except by God's action. "No one", Jesus said, "knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and any one to whom the Son chooses to reveal him" (Mt 11: 27).

We are reflecting on this extraordinarily rich Gospel passage:  the incarnate Word had revealed the Father to his disciples; now is the moment when the Father himself reveals his only Only-begotten Son to them. Peter receives inner enlightenment and courageously proclaims:  "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God!".

These words on Peter's lips come from the depths of God's mystery. They reveal the intimate truth, the very life of God. And Peter, under the action of the divine Spirit, becomes a witness and confessor of this superhuman truth. His profession of faith thus forms the firm basis of the Church's faith:  "On this rock I will build my Church" (Mt 16: 18). The Church of Christ is built on Peter's faith and fidelity.

The first Christian community was very conscious of this. As the Acts of the Apostles recount, when Peter was in prison it gathered to raise an earnest prayer to God for him (cf. Acts 12: 5). It was heard, because Peter's presence was still necessary for the community as it took its first steps:  the Lord sent his angel to free him from the hands of his persecutors (cf. ibid., 12: 7-11). It was written in God's plan that Peter, after long strengthening his brothers in faith, would undergo martyrdom here in Rome together with Paul, the Apostle of the nations, who had also escaped death several times.

3. "The Lord stood by me and gave me strength to proclaim the word fully, that all the Gentiles might hear it" (2 Tm 4: 17). These are the words of Paul to his faithful disciple Timothy:  we heard them in the second reading. They testify to what the Lord accomplished in him after he chose him as a minister of the Gospel and "grasped" him on the road to Damascus (cf. Phil 3: 12).

The Lord had come to him in a blaze of light, saying:  "Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me? " (Acts 9: 4), while a mysterious force threw him to the ground. "Who are you, Lord?", Saul had asked him. "I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting!" (Acts 9: 5). This was Christ's answer. Saul had been persecuting Jesus' followers, and Jesus told him that it was he himself who was being persecuted in them. He, Jesus of Nazareth, the Crucified One who Christians said had risen. If Saul now experienced his powerful presence, it was clear that God really had raised him from the dead. He, in fact, was the Messiah awaited by Israel; he was the Christ living and present in the Church and in the world!

Could Saul have understood with his reason alone all that such an event entailed? Certainly not! It was, in fact, part of God's mysterious plan. It would be the Father who would give Paul the grace of knowing the mystery of the redemption accomplished in Christ. It would be God who would enable him to understand the marvellous reality of the Church, which lives for Christ, with Christ and in Christ. And he, who had come to share in this truth, would continuously and tirelessly proclaim it to the very ends of the earth.

From Damascus, Paul would begin his apostolic journey which would lead him to spread the Gospel in so many parts of the then known world. His missionary zeal would thus help to fulfil the command Christ gave to the Apostles:  "Go therefore and make disciples of all nations ..." (Mt 28:  19).

4. Dear Brothers in the Episcopate who have come to receive the pallium, your presence eloquently highlights the Church's universal dimension which sprang from the Lord's command:  "Go ... and make disciples of all nations" (Mt 28: 19).

You come, in fact, from 15 countries on four continents and were called by the Lord to be Pastors of Metropolitan Churches. The conferral of the pallium clearly stresses the special bond of communion which joins you to the See of Peter and expresses the Church's universal nature.
Whenever you wear these pallia, remember, dear Brothers, that as Pastors we are called to safeguard the purity of the Gospel and the unity of Christ's Church, founded on the "rock" of Peter's faith. The Lord calls us to this; this is our inescapable mission as far-sighted guides of the flock which the Lord has entrusted to us.

5. The full unity of the Church! I feel Christ's command echoing within me. It is a particularly urgent command at the beginning of this new millennium. Let us pray and work for this, without ever growing weary of hoping.

With these sentiments, I affectionately embrace and greet the Delegation from the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople, which has come to celebrate with us the liturgical feast of Peter and Paul. Thank you, Venerable Brothers, for your presence and for your heartfelt participation in this solemn liturgical celebration. May God grant us to achieve as soon as possible the full unity of all believers in Christ.

May we obtain this gift through the Apostles Peter and Paul, who are remembered by the Church of Rome on this day that commemorates their martyrdom and therefore their birth to life in God. For the sake of the Gospel they accepted suffering and death, and became sharers in the Lord's Resurrection. Their faith, confirmed by martyrdom, is the same faith as that of Mary, the Mother of believers, of the Apostles and of the saints of every age.

Today the Church again proclaims their faith. It is our faith, the Church's unchanging faith in Jesus, the only Saviour of the world; in Christ, the Son of the living God, who died and rose for us and for all humanity.

[Pope John Paul II, 29 June 2000]

Saints Peter and Paul, whom we celebrate today, are sometimes depicted in icons as they support the edifice of the Church. This reminds us of the words in today’s Gospel in which Jesus says to Peter: “you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church” (Mt 16:18). It is the first time that Jesus utters the word ‘Church’ but more than the noun, I would like to invite you today to think about the adjective, which is possessive, ‘my’: my Church. Jesus does not speak of the Church as an external reality, but he expresses the great love he has for her: my Church. He is devoted to the Church, to us. Saint Paul writes: “Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her” (Eph 5:25), that is, the Apostle explains, Jesus loves the Church as his bride. For the Lord we are not a group of believers or a religious organization. We are his bride. He looks upon his Church with tenderness. He loves her with absolute fidelity despite our mistakes and our betrayals. As he said that day to Peter, he says to all of us today: “my Church, you are my Church”.

And we too can repeat it: my Church. We do not say this with a sense of exclusive belonging but rather with an inclusive love. Not to distinguish ourselves from others but to appreciate the beauty of being with others because Jesus wants us to be united and open. Indeed the Church is not ‘mine’ because she responds to my ego, to my desires, but rather, because I pour my affection into her. She is mine because I care for her, because, like the Apostles in the icon, I too support her. How? With fraternal love. With our fraternal love we can say: my Church.

In another icon, Saints Peter and Paul are depicted as they are locked in an embrace. They were very different from each other: a fisherman and a Pharisee with rather different life experiences, characters, ways of doing things and sensitivities. Contrasting opinions and frank debates between them were not lacking (cf. Gal 2:11). But what united them was infinitely greater: Jesus was the Lord of both, together they would say “my Lord” to the One who says “my Church”. Brothers in the faith, they invite us to rediscover the joy of being brothers and sisters in the Church. On this feast day that unites two Apostles who were so different from each other, it would be beautiful for each of us to also say: “Thank you, Lord, for that person who is different from me: he or she is a gift for my Church”. We are different but this enriches us; it is brotherhood. It is good for us to appreciate the qualities of others, to recognize the gifts of others without malice or envy. Envy! Envy causes bitterness inside; it is vinegar to the heart. The envious have a bitter gaze. Many times when one meets an envious person, one feels like asking: what did he have for breakfast today, a caffelatte or vinegar? Because envy is sour. It makes life sour. Instead, how beautiful it is to know that we belong to each other because we share the same faith, the same love, the same hope, the same Lord. We belong to each other: and this is splendid, to say: our Church! Fraternity.

At the end of the Gospel Jesus says to Peter: “Tend my sheep” (Jn 21:17). He speaks of us and says “my sheep” with the same tenderness with which he says my Church. Jesus loves us with such love, such tenderness! He feels we are his own. This is the affection that edifies the Church. Through the intercession of the Apostles, today let us invoke the grace to love our Church. Let us ask for eyes that are able to see our brothers and sisters in her, a heart that knows how to welcome others with the tender love that Jesus has for us. And let us ask for the strength to pray for those who do not think as we do — this one thinks differently; I pray for him — pray and love, which is the opposite of gossiping, perhaps behind one’s back. Never speak ill of someone, pray and love. May Our Lady who brought harmony among the Apostles and prayed with them, (cf. Acts 1:14) keep us as brothers and sisters in the Church.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 29 June 2019]