18th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A)

(Mt 14:13–21)

Matthew 14:13 On hearing this, Jesus left that place by boat and withdrew to a deserted spot on his own. But the crowds, having learnt of this, followed him on foot from the towns.

Matthew 14:14 When he stepped out of the boat, he saw a large crowd; he had compassion on them and healed their sick. 

“Having heard this...”. Jesus had heard of the execution of John the Baptist; it was a delicate moment. By remaining in Galilee, Jesus might have feared persecution from Herod Antipas, and since his hour had not yet come, he “withdrew” to a “deserted place”.

The verb anachoreō literally means: to go back, to retreat, to withdraw, to move away, to keep one’s distance from, and is generally associated with situations of danger. It is like the good retreating in the face of evil. The good seems to recede in the face of advancing evil. In a certain sense this is true: evil seems to prevail over good. Out of prudence, Jesus withdraws to a solitary place, off to one side. The verb *anachoreō* is the root of our word ‘anachoresis’, which refers to the withdrawal characteristic of the monastic and hermitic traditions, present in the Church almost from the very beginning. Where does this experience stem from? From the confrontation with evil, from the realisation that in the face of this evil one can withdraw, and that this evil can be entrusted to God’s care through prayer.

The other key figure is the crowd, which follows Jesus on foot. What characterises the crowd is that they follow Jesus from a distance, along the shore, whilst he travels by boat. Only the disciples, though not named, are in the boat with Jesus. By remaining silent on the disciples in the boat with Jesus, Matthew achieves two things: on the one hand, he places the figure of Jesus at the centre; on the other, he suggests how the disciples identify with Jesus himself. A fundamental distinction is thus drawn between those who are in the boat with Jesus and those who, instead, follow him on foot. The crowds’ thirst for Jesus is great. It is sad to realise that the crowds are so thirsty for God and that often the wells to which they rush are dry.

The act of following and serving is preceded by the phrase apò tōn póleōn, ‘from the towns’. Following, therefore, presupposes stepping out of one’s familiar routines of life, leaving behind one’s familiar places and relationships, setting oneself apart and thus creating a wilderness around oneself.

“When he stepped out of the boat, he saw a large crowd; he had compassion on them and healed their sick.” Jesus steps out of the boat and sees “a large crowd”. The Greek verb used here to express Jesus’ act of seeing is “horaō”; a verb which, in biblical language, denotes a particular kind of seeing, a profound seeing that goes beyond mere physical perception. Greek uses three verbs to denote ‘seeing’ or ‘looking’: ‘Blepō’, which denotes physical looking, a mere sensory perception; ‘Theoreō’, which means to observe, examine or scrutinise, and refers to a way of looking that questions and seeks to understand. ‘Horaō’ denotes a spiritual kind of seeing, a form of knowing or perceiving, and expresses an awareness of that which transcends the physical realm. In this sense, we might say that ‘horaō’ is the exact opposite of ‘blepō’. Jesus’s way of seeing, therefore, is not merely a matter of looking, but rather of embracing that crowd with his gaze—a crowd that belongs to him because it follows him.

Jesus feels “compassion for them”. The Greek verb used here is esplagchísthē and denotes a profound emotion that touches the person to the very depths of their being. The verb, in fact, is derived from the noun splágchnon, meaning “bowels”. What Jesus feels, therefore, is something that springs from the depths of his very being. Jesus, therefore, sees and is deeply moved. These two verbs, ‘to see’ and ‘to be moved’, are interdependent; one follows from the other, and together they create a profound communion between Jesus and the object of his sight and feeling. The use of this verb expresses the full depth of God’s visceral love for humanity.

When we speak of God’s mercy, of Jesus’ mercy, of his compassion, of this visceral stirring from the very depths of his being, all this is well represented by the images of Byzantine crucifixes, which depict Jesus with a very prominent belly. Why? Because the intention is to emphasise figuratively that he has ‘bowels of mercy’, that is, the capacity to feel the needs of humankind.

 Argentino Quintavalle, author of the books 

- Revelation – an exegetical commentary 

- The Apostle Paul and the Judaizers – Law or Gospel?

Jesus Christ, true God and true Man, in the mystery of the Trinity

Jesus’ prophetic discourse (Matthew 24–25)

All Generations Will Call Me Blessed

 Catholics and Protestants Compared – In Defence of the Faith

 The Church and Israel According to St Paul – Romans 9–11

(Available on Amazon)

17th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A)

(Mt 13:44–52)

Matthew 13:44 The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure hidden in a field; a man finds it and hides it; then, filled with joy, he goes and sells all he has and buys that field. 

Matthew 13:45 The Kingdom of Heaven is also like a merchant in search of fine pearls;

Matthew 13:46 having found a pearl of great value, he goes and sells all he has and buys it.

The merchant is not merely a man who stumbles upon a treasure by chance. The merchant is an expert in treasures and values; he is a connoisseur. He is someone in search of precious goods; someone, therefore, who has already made a choice in life. When these merchants, constantly on the lookout for precious pearls, find one of great value, they decide to sell everything to acquire this new pearl.

Historically, these appear to be Jewish Christians. They are already experts on God and his world; they have already entered into covenants; they already possess the manifestation of God’s will in the Torah; they are people constantly seeking perfection in the Law. And it is precisely in this attitude of ‘seekers’ (Greek: zētounti) – as Matthew calls them – that they find the pearl of absolute value. For them, the Kingdom of God is not a discovery in the strict sense, but a re-understanding and a re-examination of their faith, which opens them up to new realities. They are shaped by the Mosaic faith and perceive this newness as a sort of evolution of their faith.

Here there is none of the joyful enthusiasm of one who has found the treasure and, driven by excitement, does not hesitate for a moment to dispose of his possessions in order to take possession of what is, for him, the supreme good (v. 44).  Here, on the contrary, there is indeed a selling, but a cautious one, filtered through personal interests. In this sense, the verbs Matthew uses to describe the sale of possessions for the purchase of the treasure and the pearl are significant. In the first instance (v. 44), the verb ‘pōléō’ is used, meaning to sell, to put up for sale, or to offer for sale; it characterises the act of selling by someone who wishes to part with an asset but is not seeking to profit from it; it is a straightforward sale of one’s own property, from which to obtain fresh money to be used immediately. In the second instance (vv. 45–46), the verb ‘pipráskō’ is used, which also means to sell, but refers to a professional-style sale involving negotiation, haggling and bargaining, and seeking one’s own gain. Here, the whole process is rendered more rational, more calculated and more difficult.

The parable, however, urges this group of people to cast aside their Mosaic-based resistance. Matthew uses here the imperfect indicative of the verb ‘echō’ (‘eichen’ = had; he sells everything he had) to indicate the continuing possession of an asset from the past (the Mosaic Law), which he no longer possesses. It is on this interplay between having had something before and no longer having it that the call to leave the past behind is based, for what they have found (Christ) is a pearl of great value, which places it above all the other pearls they already possessed (‘eichen’ = had).

The first parable (v. 44) speaks of grace: one comes across it without seeking it; one is sought out by God. The second (vv. 45–46) speaks of the active search one undertakes in one’s life; when one has sensed something, one seeks. And those who seek find.

This choice, however, requires the greatest of freedoms: the freedom to sacrifice everything for the supreme good that has been found. Those who lack this freedom will never be able to buy the precious pearl they have found. Without this freedom, one will live for the petty things of this present life, but these do not bring true joy. True joy is eternal joy, which comes from God. Without this supreme freedom from everything, from everyone, and even from ourselves, we will never be able to buy the precious pearl. To possess the kingdom of God, one needs a willingness to seek, discernment, freedom, and detachment from the things of this world.

The treasure is a quest. In the human heart lies the desire for the eternal, for God, for truth, for salvation, for redemption. The search does not stop at the first thing found. It is carried out with wise and intelligent discernment. One distinguishes pearl from pearl, a precious pearl from a more precious one, and the most precious of all. Within man lies the capacity for wise and holy discernment. Without this capacity, which is always a gift from God, one could never distinguish good from evil, good from better, or better from the very best.

Man can seek the best. If he can, he must. If he must, he is free to do so. If he does not, he is accountable before God. Man is capable of God, of eternity, of beauty, of truth, of holiness. Man is capable of transcending himself. He can transcend because the Lord places before him the pearl of inestimable value. He can rise above because the pearl exists and can always be found.

The parable of the pearl highlights the incomparable beauty of the kingdom. The prolonged search for pearls alludes to the commitment required to attain the kingdom – as, for example, the disciples of John the Baptist, or Nicodemus, or Joseph of Arimathea, etc., did. The parable of the hidden treasure, on the other hand, refers to the sudden conversion of some sinner, unexpectedly struck by the proclamation of the Gospel. 

 Argentino Quintavalle, author of the books 

- Revelation – an exegetical commentary 

- The Apostle Paul and the Judaizers – Law or Gospel?

Jesus Christ, True God and True Man, in the Mystery of the Trinity

Jesus’ Prophetic Discourse (Matthew 24–25)

All Generations Will Call Me Blessed

 Catholics and Protestants Compared – In Defence of the Faith

 The Church and Israel According to St Paul – Romans 9–11

(Available on Amazon)

16th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A)

(Rom 8:26–27)

Romans 8:26 In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that cannot be put into words;

The context here is that of prayer, and so our weakness here lies within the realm of prayer.  Although the Christian has been baptised into the death and resurrection of Jesus, they still remain in a state of weakness, and this fact is also evident in their prayers. For although we generally know what we ought to ask of God, we often do not know what, specifically and at any given moment, is useful and appropriate for us. In other words, we do not fully know God’s will, and so we are not always sure what His will is or what we ought to pray for. 

The believer finds themselves caught between two worlds: on the one hand, still bound by a sinful nature, whose ways are opposed to those of the Spirit and which ties them to the realities of a fallen world; on the other, the regeneration and rebirth into a new world, which operates according to the ways of the Spirit, opposed to those of the flesh. It is in this inner conflict within man that his weakness lies. To overcome this weakness, the Lord has provided valuable help. He has given the Holy Spirit, and has given Him as the guiding principle of the Christian’s prayer.

“In the same way,” he says, expressing the Father’s complete solidarity with fallen humanity through the gift of the Spirit, who helps us to bring forth this new world that already lives and works within us; who helps us by sustaining us on our spiritual journey; and who helps us to enter into a relationship with spiritual realities with which, precisely because of our weakness, we do not even know how to relate. In prayer, we can only feebly express what is fitting, what is right, and what we ought first and foremost to pray for—that is, what is in accordance with God’s will.

Only the Spirit speaks the Father’s language. The Spirit goes beyond our thoughts and asks for everything we lack, so that the Father may meet those needs of which his children are unaware. The Spirit is given to us to come to the aid of our weakness in thought and will; the weakness of those who do not know, of those who do not understand, of those who cannot. ‘Comes to our aid’ is ‘synantilambanetai’, a word composed of two prepositions, ‘syn’ (together) and ‘anti’ (against), which are prefixes of the verb ‘lambanomai’ (to take possession of, to hold). The metaphor therefore presents us with a person who carries a burden in collaboration with another, positioning themselves at the opposite end of the burden itself; in other words, they share the load with us to give us relief.

In life, unfortunately, the slightest thing is enough to make us turn back or fall by the wayside, without having reached the goal of hope. In this weakness, it is the Holy Spirit who becomes the soul and spirit of the Christian and prays in their stead; yet the Spirit prays with ‘groans’ that Paul describes as ‘inexpressible’, that is, they cannot be translated into human words, which define, conceptualise and express material realities, whilst the Spirit’s action operates on spiritual levels; and for his groans to be perceived and understood, a person must rise spiritually, becoming attuned to spiritual language. They are inner stirrings, inspirations, intuitions.

Jesus’ intercession takes place at the right hand of God, whilst the Spirit’s intercession takes place within us. ‘Intercedes’ is the translation of ‘hyperentygchanei’, which means ‘to bring someone near or to call someone’. We know that we must ask God for everything, but we do not know what to ask God for. Not knowing what to ask for, we may even pray in vain. The Holy Spirit, on the other hand, knows God’s will for each of us. When He is in us and we are in Him, it is He Himself who prays and intercedes for us. However, He does not pray in a language we can understand, in the sense that He makes us understand what is best for us. He prays with inexpressible groans; He prays with our heart, but without our mind. It is the groaning of One who does not share our weakness, yet participates in it and takes it upon Himself. The groaning of the Spirit has no language; it is wordless, ‘alalētois’; it transcends all language.

There is something profoundly great and mysterious in this verse. When the Spirit dwells within a person, it is as though He were taking the person’s place; it is as though the person had handed over the helm of their life to Him. The Spirit guides life towards the goal that is inherent in human nature, without the person realising it, and directs them towards their supreme good. This explains why the saints sometimes find themselves doing things the ‘why’ and ‘how’ of which even they do not fully understand. They do not know; it is the Spirit of the Lord who moves them from within and guides them.

This is the true movement of the Spirit. When, on the other hand, everything is subjected to human reason and conscience, to human decision-making, there is no true movement of the Spirit; rather, it is man who is in control of his own person and intends to guide it according to his own principles of choice, even if, whether cunningly or naively, it suits him to attribute his own thoughts and decisions to the Spirit of the Lord. 

 Argentino Quintavalle, author of the books 

- Revelation – an exegetical commentary 

- The Apostle Paul and the Judaizers – Law or Gospel?

Jesus Christ, true God and true Man, in the mystery of the Trinity

Jesus’ prophetic discourse (Matthew 24–25)

All Generations Will Call Me Blessed

Catholics and Protestants Compared – In Defence of the Faith

The Church and Israel According to St Paul – Romans 9–11

(Available on Amazon)

15th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A)

(Mt 13:1–23)

1On that day, Jesus went out of the house and sat by the sea. 2Such a large crowd gathered round him that he got into a boat and sat down, whilst the whole crowd stood on the shore.
3He spoke to them at length in parables. He said: ‘Listen, a sower went out to sow. 4As he was sowing, some seed fell along the path; the birds came and ate it up. 5Some fell on rocky ground, where there was not much soil; it sprang up quickly, because the soil was not deep, 6but when the sun rose, it was scorched, and since it had no roots, it withered. 7Some fell amongst thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked it. 8Some fell on good soil and bore fruit: a hundredfold, sixtyfold, thirtyfold. 9Let anyone with ears listen.”
10Then the disciples came to him and asked, “Why do you speak to them in parables?” 11He replied, ‘Because it has been given to you to know the mysteries of the Kingdom of Heaven, but to them it has not been given. 12For to the one who has, more will be given, and he will have an abundance; but from the one who has not, even what he has will be taken away. 13That is why I speak to them in parables: because, though they look, they do not see; though they listen, they do not hear or understand. 14Thus the prophecy of Isaiah is fulfilled in them, which says:
‘You will hear, but you will not understand; you will look, but you will not see.’
15 For this people’s heart has grown callous; their ears have become hard of hearing, and they have closed their eyes—lest they should see with their eyes, hear with their ears, understand with their heart, and turn back, and I should heal them! 

“On that day Jesus went out of the house and sat by the sea.” The passage begins with a temporal reference (“on that day”), followed by a spatial one (“went out of the house and sat by the sea”), which provide useful clues for understanding the situation being described. A first observation should be made regarding the expression “on that day” (en tē ēméra ekeínē), which draws attention to that day which will prove to be no ordinary day, but a time when Jesus makes a choice that will mark a radical turning point in his preaching and his mission: the beginning of his speaking in parables (v. 10). This expression appears only here in the Gospel of Matthew, whilst in the entire New Testament it occurs three further times: twice in reference to the Day of Judgement (Lk 10:12; 2 Thess 1:10); and once to highlight the particular success of the proclamation of the Word (Acts 2:41). Whenever this expression appears, therefore, the sacred authors are always referring to a particularly significant time or one of special interest, which has to do, on the one hand, with an act of judgement and, on the other, with the unstoppable advance of the Word. And this is precisely what happens here. The whole of chapter 13, in fact, is thematically dominated by two fundamental elements: the proclamation of the Kingdom and the decisive choice that Jesus is compelled to make within the context of that proclamation, for whilst the Kingdom is proclaimed to all, its mysteries are not revealed to all.

A second observation concerns the dual spatial connotation: Jesus leaves the house and sits by the sea. Jesus does not speak to people who are inside the house, but to those who are outside, standing on the seashore. To these, the mysteries of the Kingdom are not revealed (v. 11); instead, the proclamation is given to them through the language of parables, the content of which is encoded in metaphor. Jesus therefore draws a distinction between his listeners. The two nouns ‘house’ and ‘sea’ are both metaphors. In the symbolic language of the Gospels, the house often refers to the community of believers, within which Jesus is found. From here he goes out to meet the people (vv. 1–2). That this is not just any house, but the new community of believers, is also suggested by the definite article, which in the Greek text precedes the noun ‘house’. Jesus, in fact, does not go out from just any house, but ‘from the house’ (tēs oikías).

The ‘house’ is contrasted with the ‘sea’, which is by its very nature open and vast, yet also treacherous, for it conceals an unknown world beneath its surface. A sea that is often interpreted metaphorically as a symbol of the nations; and it is precisely here, by the sea, that Jesus sits.

In summary, verse 1, with its metaphorical and symbolic language, introduces the entire theme of chapter 13: Jesus leaves the house—the community of believers—to go out to the people, amongst whom he sits to teach them. This teaching of his, however, because of the manner in which it is carried out, also becomes a kind of judgement. For this reason, what takes place ‘on that day’ marks a radical turning point in Jesus’ preaching, which turns into an indictment of the people’s unbelief (vv. 14–15).

Verse 2, read symbolically, confirms what has been said. ‘Such a large crowd gathered round him that he got into a boat and sat down, whilst the whole crowd stood on the shore.’ The verse is divided into three stages:

a) The crowd gathers round Jesus;

b) Jesus distances himself from the crowd by getting into the boat, from where he delivers his teaching;

c) The crowd remains on the shore, listening to Jesus, but at a distance from him, so that they cannot reach him.

From this moment on, the crowd finds itself at a distance from Jesus. There will be those who listen to and accept the message, and others who reject it. At the centre of the narrative is Jesus, who distances himself from the crowd and, from this position of detachment, delivers his teaching (b). Jesus, in fact, is in the boat and the crowd is on the beach; each, therefore, remains in their respective positions. A crowd with contradictory behaviour gathers around Jesus: they seek him (a), yet at the same time do not move from their positions, remaining stationary on the beach (c). The verb ‘eistēkei’ (was standing/remained), in the pluperfect indicative, describes an action arising from past behaviour that persists into the present. Consequently, the crowd’s remaining there, motionless, without any movement towards Jesus, illustrates the crowd’s closed-minded attitude and, therefore, its inability to evolve spiritually towards the new era that is advancing through Jesus. The reason for this behaviour will be explained in verses 10–15.

Furthermore, the verb ‘eistēkei’, which emphasises the crowd’s immobility, contrasts with the verb with which verse 10 begins, ‘proselthóntes’ (they drew near), which describes the opposite movement of the disciples, who, on the other hand, draw near to Jesus and make themselves available to him. The two groups, therefore, are characterised by their underlying attitude: the crowds remain stationary and entrenched in their positions (eistēkei), showing no sign of conversion; whilst the disciples are characterised by their moving towards Jesus (proselthóntes).

 Argentino Quintavalle, author of the books 

- Revelation – an exegetical commentary 

- The Apostle Paul and the Judaizers – Law or Gospel?

Jesus Christ, true God and true Man, in the mystery of the Trinity

Jesus’ prophetic discourse (Matthew 24–25)

All Generations Will Call Me Blessed

Catholics and Protestants Compared – In Defence of the Faith

The Church and Israel According to St Paul – Romans 9–11

(Available on Amazon)

14th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A)

(Mt 11:25–30)

Matthew 11:27 All things have been handed over to me by my Father; no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and those to whom the Son chooses to reveal him. 

Matthew 11:28 Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.

What did the Father delight in? It pleased him to give everything to the Son. The Son may communicate his knowledge of the Father to whomever he wishes, for he is the sole Mediator through whom we may come to the Father. In other words, the divine omnipotence of the Father, Lord of creation, is transferred to Jesus. In this way, a sort of identification is created between the Father and the Son, who, by virtue of this transfer, interpenetrate one another.

The Father and the Son know one another through their communion in the divine nature and through eternal generation. The transfer of powers from the Father to the Son is not a mere legal authorisation to act in the Father’s name and on his behalf, as if Jesus were some sort of legal representative of the Father. When we speak of God, no distinction can be made between the Father’s own attributes and the Father himself, for those attributes of the Father are the Father himself. For this reason, the power of the Father given to the Son is in reality the Father himself giving himself to the Son, and it is precisely this mutual interpenetration that makes the two one, whilst maintaining the respective distinction of their own roles, so that the Father is not the Son, nor is the Son the Father. The identity between the two lies in their common and unique divine nature. This is why the Father lives in the Son and the Son in the Father; this is why the revelation of the Son is the very revelation of the Father, and the work of Jesus is the work of the Father, so that Jesus becomes the historical face of the Father, the historical locus of his manifestation.

Since no one else, apart from the Son, knows the Father, no one else can reveal him to us. The revelation that the Father brings about in the Son is a gift of love, reserved solely for those who are able to receive it. It is not the wise who can know the Father, for the Father is known within a relationship of gratuitousness, in a love that is both received and given. If this is lacking, it is impossible to experience God.

‘Come to me…’. This calls upon human will. God’s gift is for everyone, and we are invited to come. But God’s gift is not for those who are sated, who are well-off, who live in the abundance and wealth of this world’s possessions. They are not invited. To them, Jesus Christ is of no use; he serves no purpose. They have everything; they have no need of Christ. On the other hand, all those who are weary and burdened do need Christ. They are weary from the hard labour of living life, of making it through to the end of the day. They are weary from the grave difficulties they encounter day after day on their journey. These difficulties are both material and spiritual. Oppression, on the other hand, is an additional burden placed upon the shoulders of those who are already weary. It is as if a person who is already carrying an unbearable weight were to have yet another, even heavier one added to it. To these people, who have no prospects for the future, Jesus says to come to Him.

“And I will give you rest.” This rest recalls the rest of the seventh day, the Sabbath, which is the fulfilment of creation. Man remains forever unfulfilled because he is unable to fulfil love, to fulfil the law. If you go to Jesus, Jesus gives you rest, fulfilment. The fulfilment of man is God. This is the rest. Rest, moreover, is synonymous with the Promised Land; exile ends, the Exodus ends: at last you arrive home. So, in response to all the efforts of the Law that point the way to life, Jesus gives you life, gives you a home, gives you rest. And there man rests because there he is at home; that is, he becomes a son, not through his own efforts, but by going to Jesus and accepting his rest.

When our humanity returns to its true nature, it is freed from the bondage of sin, from the oppression of evil, from the gruelling toil of disobedience. It enters into the refreshment bestowed by the Lord’s friendship, which is the fullness of joy. Jesus’ refreshment is the gift of true freedom. Falsehood oppresses; the truth sets us free. Jesus’ refreshment is the gift of adopted sonship, of the Father’s House rediscovered. This is the refreshment of Jesus Christ: man’s return to the Father’s House and the gift of his ancient, lost dignity.

 Argentino Quintavalle, author of the books 

- Revelation – an exegetical commentary 

- The Apostle Paul and the Judaizers – Law or Gospel?

Jesus Christ, True God and True Man in the Trinitarian Mystery

The Prophetic Discourse of Jesus (Matthew 24–25)

All Generations Will Call Me Blessed

 Catholics and Protestants Compared – In Defence of the Faith

 The Church and Israel According to St Paul – Romans 9–11

(Available on Amazon)

13th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A)

(Mt 10:37–42)

Matthew 10:39 Whoever tries to keep their life will lose it, and whoever loses their life for my sake will find it. 

Matthew 10:40 Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me. 

The disciple is called to make a fundamental choice, upon which everything will subsequently be reoriented and in which everything will find its full meaning. Consequently, whoever spends their life in pursuit of their own well-being and self-affirmation will, at the end of the day—that is, at the moment of life’s end—lose everything, for all their efforts to improve it will inevitably be thwarted by death. Conversely, those who have devoted their lives to Christ and to seeking his will will, in reality, have gained it, for such a life—which appears lost according to human reasoning—will find its fulfilment in Christ himself, to whom they have dedicated themselves and on whom they have staked everything.

There is, therefore, an underlying motivation that drives the entire, complex dynamic of life: the affirmation of one’s own self or the affirmation of Christ in one’s life. These two opposing underlying motivations will give rise to the fundamental choice that will shape and define one’s existential orientation, creating a way of life centred on oneself or on Christ. The ultimate outcomes will be diametrically opposed.

Within us there is a dual life: one which we might call material and temporal, and the other spiritual and eternal. Jesus means to say: ‘Whoever denies me in order to preserve their temporal life loses eternal life; but whoever, faced with the choice of renouncing me or their temporal life, bravely faces death, will find eternal life.’ Everyone, therefore, for the love of Christ, must always be ready to offer their life to martyrdom, just as Christ offered his for the love of the Father’s will. It is, however, in this total loss that life is found again. By losing it on earth, we shall be given a new and resplendent life in heaven; we lose it in time, we gain it for all eternity. If, on the other hand, we hold on to it but lose Christ, we lose both Christ and our whole life for all eternity. It is a choice: either time or eternity; either earth or heaven; either the moment or forever; either paradise or hell. Each person will receive according to their choice.

“Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me.” The verb “to welcome” is crucial; it defines the fundamental attitude that must characterise anyone who encounters the proclamation. The Kingdom must be welcomed because it does not impose itself on humankind, but offers itself to it. To welcome means knowing how to step aside in order to create within oneself a space to receive Christ.

With these words, Jesus also demonstrates the dignity of the disciples. They do nothing other than carry on Jesus’ mission. Whoever welcomes the disciples welcomes Jesus himself; and to welcome Jesus is to welcome God, for one sent as a messenger shares in the same dignity as the one who sent him. In this way, a chain is formed which, from the disciples, through Jesus, leads back to the Father, who, in his Son, is the one who sends the disciples themselves. This close interconnection creates a sort of identification and union-communion amongst those who are active in proclaiming the Gospel, so that behind the apostles and Jesus stands the very figure of the Father, who is the source of every sending and every proclamation.

The word of the twelve disciples is the word of Christ. The word of Christ is the word of the Father. Whoever receives the word of the twelve disciples receives the word of Christ and therefore receives the word of the Father. One thing, however, must be made clear: this is true only if the disciple’s word is the word of Christ, always. If the disciple is rejected because he speaks the word of Christ, Christ is rejected and the Father is rejected. Those who listen are responsible for this rejection. If, on the other hand, the disciple is rejected because he speaks his own words, not those of Christ, then those who reject him are rejecting him, not Christ, who is not behind or within the words he speaks. When a disciple of Jesus substitutes his own words for those of Jesus, he becomes a ravenous wolf. One must always be on one’s guard against him.

 Argentino Quintavalle, author of the books 

- Revelation – an exegetical commentary 

- The Apostle Paul and the Judaizers – Law or Gospel?

Jesus Christ, true God and true Man, in the mystery of the Trinity

Jesus’ prophetic discourse (Matthew 24–25)

All Generations Will Call Me Blessed

Catholics and Protestants Compared – In Defence of the Faith

The Church and Israel According to St Paul – Romans 9–11

(Available on Amazon)

12th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A)

(Mt 10:26–33)

Matthew 10:26 Do not, therefore, be afraid of them; for there is nothing concealed that will not be revealed, nor anything secret that will not be made known. 

Matthew 10:27 What I tell you in the dark, speak in the light; and what you hear whispered, proclaim from the housetops.

Matthew 10:28 And do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather, fear him who has the power to destroy both soul and body in Gehenna.

If Jesus commands us not to be afraid, it means that fear is present. It is not merely the fear for my own life, but also the fear that good will fail; that good will always remain veiled, hidden, that people will not understand it—this too is the fear we have, as well as the fear that everything is in vain. Then there is the tragedy that if good fails, it is something truly grave: where is God? This is the disciples’ fear. A primary reason, in fact, that justifies the “do not be afraid” is that everything that now seems incomprehensible will be revealed: “there is nothing hidden that will not be revealed, nor any secret that will not be made known”. There is a veil, a concealment that will be removed and unveiled. Let us try to understand.

The great veil of God is the Cross. On the Cross He reveals Himself and makes Himself manifest as love, and just as it is in the life of Jesus so it will be in the life of the disciple: what appears to be defeat will in reality be revealed as victory. Everything is played out between the present and the future, between man’s today and God’s tomorrow. In other words, the obscure meaning of the present, in which man is called to live, finds its full understanding in the divine light of the Risen Jesus. Only this light is capable of illuminating humanity and revealing to it the hidden meaning of its history. Thus, all of history is nothing other than a progressive unveiling of the mystery of God.

Whilst verse 26 states a general principle upon which to base one’s lack of fear, verse 27 puts it into concrete practice. There is, in fact, a parallelism in the terms such that the former explain the latter: the ‘hidden’ finds its counterpart in ‘darkness’; the ‘revealed’ is reflected in ‘light’; the ‘secret’ is linked to ‘ear’; the ‘known’ is found in ‘roofs’. Furthermore, the verbs in verse 26, which are impersonal (“there is nothing”, “will not be revealed”, “will not be known”), become personal in verse 27 and have clearly defined subjects: I-you, Jesus-disciples. We thus move from the principle to its concrete realisation.

Jesus is instructing his disciples, speaking to them in private, in secret, away from the crowd—that is, not in public but in private. There is a contrast between the stage of proclamation in Jesus’s time, carried out discreetly, and the stage of the disciples’ preaching, in which they are required to proclaim the message of salvation courageously and publicly. The apostles are those to whom the secret is revealed. This secret and hidden teaching must not remain secret and hidden forever. It must be proclaimed to the whole world publicly, in a way that is audible and understandable to all. Jesus now speaks to them almost in silence. It will then be they who speak to the whole world, proclaiming his message, his Word, his teaching, after the Paschal event. Then, behold, what is in the darkness will be spoken in the light, and what is now merely whispered in private to a few people will reach everyone. So good is not defeated; do not fear. Do not be afraid; history is in God’s hands.

The whole conflict revolves around the confrontation between man and God, with whom the disciple must engage in the course of his mission. At the root of this confrontation lies the implicit question of whether it is better to obey God or men. This is the daily reality the disciples are faced with: they are called to proclaim and bear witness to truths that so annoy men that the latter do not hesitate to physically eliminate them. Jesus holds out to the disciples the possibility of a violent death, but urges them not to fear men who can at most deprive them of their physical life. They must rather fear God, who in judgement can condemn them to eternal damnation. It is worth enduring martyrdom to obtain eternal life in heaven.

We are terribly afraid of dying, and yet we die all the same. Our life is not the body; our life is the fact that we are children of God. This is the eternal life we already live now; it is this that we must not lose, for the other we will lose anyway, and those who try to save it by any means fail to do so. Therefore, let not the fear of death govern our lives. We must, instead, fear losing the meaning of our lives.

God is master of soul and body, of life and death. Therefore, let us fear Him. Today, when there is no longer any fear of God, people have endless phobias. Why? Because without the fear of God, death becomes the absolute thing to be avoided. If, on the other hand, we place the fear of God at the centre—that is, if we take into account that God is our Father, who has given us life—then our lives are transformed.

Gehenna, from the Hebrew ‘ghe-Hinnom’ (Valley of the River Hinnom), was a sort of precipice situated to the south-west of Jerusalem. In this valley, temples had once been erected to the god Moloch, to whom children were sacrificed according to Canaanite pagan rites, in which the Jews also participated. King Josiah (640–609 BC), in reforming and restoring the true worship of God, had these temples demolished and reduced the valley to a dumping ground for rubbish and corpses that could not be buried, where everything was burned. The fire here was therefore perpetual. Hence, by analogy, Gehenna came to represent the place of all impurity subjected to eternal fire, that is, Hell. This concept was taken up in the New Testament, where the term Gehenna denotes the place of eternal perdition and divine judgement.

 Argentino Quintavalle, author of the books 

- Apocalypse – an exegetical commentary 

- The Apostle Paul and the Judaizers – Law or Gospel?

Jesus Christ, true God and true Man in the mystery of the Trinity

The prophetic discourse of Jesus (Matthew 24–25)

All Generations Will Call Me Blessed

Catholics and Protestants Compared – In Defence of the Faith

The Church and Israel According to St Paul – Romans 9–11

(Available on Amazon)

(Mt 9:36 – 10:8)

Matthew 10:1 He called his twelve disciples to him and gave them authority over impure spirits to drive them out and to cure every disease and every illness. 

Matthew 10:2 The names of the twelve apostles are: first, Simon, called Peter, and his brother Andrew; James, son of Zebedee, and his brother John; 

Matthew 10:3 Philip and Bartholomew; Thomas and Matthew the tax collector; James, son of Alphaeus, and Thaddeus; 

Matthew 10:4 Simon the Canaanite and Judas Iscariot, the one who later betrayed him. 

Verse 1 opens with the verb ‘to call’ in the aorist participle (proskalesàmenos), which indicates a specific action in time, from which the call arose. Every salvific act always begins with a call, which originates from God himself, and every call is closely linked to a mission. The mission, therefore, is the meeting point between the divine will and man’s willingness to become a bearer of salvation, on behalf of and in the name of God.

The divine call also possesses a transforming power; it bestows a new identity upon the one called. It is significant that in the Genesis account of creation, God, after creating, calls his creature by name. The creative act, in fact, calls things into being, but it is only by defining them by name that they are given substance and identity. In the Bible, the name expresses the very being of the person and indicates their essence. To know the name is, in a sense, to know the person, to enter into their intimacy; whilst to bestow a name is to exercise one’s power over them. This is why God, after creating the animals, presented them to man so that he might bestow a name upon them, thereby establishing a hierarchical order amongst things.

Similarly, the people of Israel at the foot of Sinai are defined by Yahweh as his own, a people of priests and a holy nation. Their liberation from Egypt was not, therefore, sufficient to make them God’s people; it was necessary for God to define their essence (through the Torah and the Covenant), so that the people might stand before God and the nations with a distinct identity and, thus, as a valid representative of God amongst men. The call, therefore, also pertains to the establishment of a new reality. Ultimately, it signifies belonging to the One who calls. 

Being called by God leads man to become God’s very own possession. The verb ‘to call’ in Greek is ‘kaléō’, but here Matthew, to express the calling of the Twelve, uses a particularly significant verb: ‘proskaléō’; it is composed of the preposition “pros” + “kaleō”, and literally means “to call towards oneself”, “to draw to oneself”. It is not, therefore, a call to attract the attention of the one called, but indicates a summons, which in turn implies an existential reorientation, making the one called, in effect, God’s own. It is no coincidence that the disciples called are described with the possessive adjective “his”, to indicate how this call becomes a sort of appropriation of the one called by God, a consecratory election on his part. Similarly, this was also the case at the foot of Sinai, where God defines his people as “his own” and, consequently, also as a kingdom of priests and a holy nation (Ex 19:4–6).

A second term that characterises the disciples is the number “twelve”. The number is clearly symbolic and alludes to the twelve tribes of Israel, indicating in those called the new messianic community, destined to give birth to a new people, the new Israel, generated no longer according to the flesh, but in faith. The apostles represent the holy remnant of Israel, the spiritual fathers of the renewed people of God. It is, therefore, a new creation, signifying the replacement of the old Israel according to the flesh, which rejected Jesus’ message, with the new one generated by the Spirit, where all the divine promises may be fulfilled.

The calling is perfected through the necessary conferral of the power that comes from Jesus: “he gave them power”. Jesus grants the apostles supernatural powers, entirely similar to those He Himself possessed. Essentially, there are two such powers: that of casting out unclean spirits and that of performing every kind of healing. Jesus places unclean spirits and every physical affliction that sin has brought upon humanity under the power conferred upon the disciples. Nothing can resist them. Everything is subject to them. With these powers, what Jesus can do, the Twelve can also do. To grant authority or power means that a sort of identification is formed between the one who confers authority and the one who receives it. Jesus, therefore, extends himself into the disciples, becoming, himself, active within them through his power.

The mission of the disciples, therefore, is the continuation of Jesus’ own mission. Consequently, the disciples’ work is the very work of Christ. The authority given to the disciples, however, is not absolute, but is directed towards the realisation of a salvific plan, which manifests itself in casting out unclean spirits and healing every sort of disease and infirmity. In other words, the disciples’ work is aimed at establishing the Kingdom of God amongst men, which finds its exact opposite in man’s submission to the power of unclean spirits, which generate sickness and infirmity in man.

It should be noted that the disciples’ primary task is not to go about teaching doctrine to people. The specific task of the disciple will be to impart life to others by casting out demons. 

 Argentino Quintavalle, author of the books 

- Revelation – an exegetical commentary 

- The Apostle Paul and the Judaizers – Law or Gospel?

Jesus Christ, True God and True Man in the Trinitarian Mystery

The Prophetic Discourse of Jesus (Matthew 24–25)

All Generations Will Call Me Blessed

 Catholics and Protestants Compared – In Defence of the Faith

 The Church and Israel According to St Paul – Romans 9–11

(Available on Amazon)

The Body and Blood of Christ (year A)

(1 Cor 10:16-17)

1 Corinthians 10:16 Is not the cup of blessing which we bless a sharing in the blood of Christ? And the bread which we break, is it not a sharing in the body of Christ?

1 Corinthians 10:17 Because there is one loaf, we, though many, are one body, for we all partake of the one loaf.

Here we see the fundamental reason that compels us to flee from idolatry, and it is closely linked to the celebration of the Lord’s Supper, during which everything was done just as Jesus had done at the Last Supper. The cup was taken and blessed, the bread was taken and broken. The very words that Jesus had spoken over the cup and the bread were also spoken, so that after these words the bread and the cup were and are the body and blood of Christ.

The cup of blessing is the Eucharistic cup, which we bless, that is, consecrate. Consecration is called a blessing because it is preceded and followed by various prayers. It is also ‘communion’ (Greek koinōnia = participation, communion) with the blood of Christ, so that whoever drinks from this chalice—that is, from the wine it contains—becomes a participant in and drinks the blood of Jesus, and remains intimately united with him. Similarly, the Eucharistic bread, which we break, is communion with the body of the Lord, and whoever eats this bread remains intimately united to Christ. If drinking from this chalice and eating this bread is to share in the blood and body of Christ, this is clear proof that Christ is truly and substantially present in the Eucharist. Everyone, then, drinks the blood of Christ; everyone eats the body of Christ. A communion so profound with Christ is created that it surpasses every other form of communion existing on earth. It is a communion that unites Heaven and earth.

By participating in the Eucharist, by partaking of the body and blood of Christ, we enter into communion with him; we form one body. That is to say, our Eucharist, which is the very heart of the whole Christian life, is eating this bread, which is Him, and living in communion with Him. By living in communion with the Son of God, I become what I am, a child of God; I attain my identity, my truth. If I do not eat this bread, I am not what I ought to be; I do not attain my identity: I destroy myself.

To eat and drink the chalice is to enter into communion with the body and blood of Christ, and by eating and drinking Christ we are transformed into what He is: into a spiritual, holy nature, even in our body and not only in our soul. This truth is so evident that Paul does not want it to be accepted merely as a principle of faith, but as an act of the intellect. Faith, on the other hand, consists in accepting that the blessing and the words spoken over the bread and the cup transform the bread into the body of Christ and the cup into the blood of Christ. This truth cannot be deduced by reason. It is a proclamation of faith, a testimony of the apostles who heard Christ’s command, lived it out themselves first, and then understood the significance of what Christ had done for them and for all who would believe in his name. The apostles also received the authority to carry this out for the rest of their lives, passing this power on to their successors and to those they chose as elders within the community of believers.

Since spiritual things cannot be seen, they are expressed through signs, that is, through gestures, and thus through ritual; therefore, the bread and wine are signs. They are necessarily expressed through signs, because words are not adequate to express them, and behind those signs we see an infinite meaning that God has shown us through his word.

What signs are bread and wine? They are signs of nourishment, of sharing a meal, of communion, of family, of life: eating and drinking signify life. Behind these signs, what does revelation tell us? It is the gift that Jesus made of his body. It tells us that he is our life and that he gave his life for us. So, these signs become the memorial, that is, they bring back to my heart all the love of God who gives his life for me. We understand how necessary the sign is for the rite. That is why that small piece of bread is so very important: it is everything, because it is all that God wishes to give us, that is, himself. Since he cannot give himself in a visible way, and we need the visible, he signifies this to us through a small sign.

I do not know if we manage to grasp the full value of the rites. If one views the rite with triviality and superficiality, for that person the rite has no meaning whatsoever. If, on the other hand, one views it with depth of understanding, through the sign one will see that the full meaning of God’s saving work is revealed. Then, we understand what it means that that bread and that wine are communion with the body of Christ which is given for us; they are communion with the very life of God in the Son, through which we become children, we become like Christ: divinised. I hope that we Christians today know this too: those who were there at the beginning knew it.

The Eucharistic celebration concludes with: “Ite, missa est”. In the early Church of Rome, there was the following custom: once the celebration was over, the bishop would entrust some pieces of the Eucharistic bread to the deacons, so that they might take them to the faithful who had been unable to attend in person, or to the priests who would preside over the Eucharist in smaller churches. In this sense, the words “missa est” should be interpreted as “we have already sent the communion”, or “[the offering] has been sent”. Thus, the Eucharist concludes with a mission to others. If you have experienced the Father’s table, you are sent out into the whole world to bear witness to all; you are like the Son sent into the world.

 Argentino Quintavalle, author of the books 

- Revelation – an exegetical commentary 

- The Apostle Paul and the Judaizers – Law or Gospel?

Jesus Christ, true God and true Man in the mystery of the Trinity

The prophetic discourse of Jesus (Matthew 24–25)

All generations will call me blessed

Catholics and Protestants compared – In defence of the faith

The Church and Israel according to St Paul – Romans 9–11

(Available on Amazon)

Most Holy Trinity (year A)

(2 Cor 13:11–13)

11 Finally, brothers and sisters, rejoice, strive for perfection, encourage one another, be of one mind, live in peace, and the God of love and peace will be with you.

12 Greet one another with a holy kiss. All the saints send you their greetings.

13 The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all. 

This is the grand finale of St Paul’s Second Letter to the Corinthians. It is a marvellous summary of how the path to Christian holiness is fulfilled within the community.

“Rejoice”. For there to be joy, the truth of Christ must dwell in your hearts, and there must be pure faith in God. In this certainty, the Christian must always grow. Can a person maintain joy whilst living in a world of suffering and sin? The answer is yes, because when one is in the joy of God, everything else becomes bearable; everything else is transformed into a hymn of honour and glory to the Lord our God. Jesus Christ sent his own into the world to bring this certainty.

“Strive for perfection”. Baptism does not make us perfect; it sets us on the path to perfection. Each of us will be responsible for ourselves in order to attain the perfection to which the Lord calls us. Perfection is the attainment of the way of life of Christ within us. To live as Christ lived does not mean to do the things he did, but to obey the Heavenly Father as he obeyed.

“Encourage one another”. On the path towards perfection, we are not alone. We walk together with others; we form a community; we are a people marching towards the attainment of the promised land, which for us is paradise. On this long journey, which is at times hard and tiring, we must support one another, encourage one another, and offer a helping hand to help and be helped. Sometimes a single word, a gentle reminder, or a word of encouragement is enough to prevent the other person from becoming disheartened, losing courage, or turning back. Encouragement must be a fruit of love that flows from our hearts filled with Jesus Christ. If Jesus is not in our hearts, we cannot offer encouragement; such encouragement could prove harmful to the other person, as it might be misinterpreted as a harsh judgement, or worse, as humiliation. When, however, the love of Christ overflows within us, the other person sees it, grasps it, and can allow themselves to be saved by it, resuming the path of perfection towards the attainment of salvation.

“Have the same attitude”. This is the attitude of “likeable” people who know how to show empathy. All too often our Christian community presents an unfriendly face, and those who are very devout and practising often come across as unfriendly. It is certainly not authentic devotion if going to Mass so often and spending so much time in church results in an unfriendly demeanour, so that when faced with others, instead of “feeling together”, we clash. Our encounter with God must enable us to have the same mind, to become likeable, capable of good relationships with others. We know what these shared sentiments must be: they are those that were in the heart of Christ Jesus, namely, to be among our brothers and sisters as one who serves, not as one who is served.

“Live in peace”. There is no letter of Paul that does not echo this invitation, that is not a heartfelt appeal for peace. Peace is a gift from God, but like every gift, it depends on the will of man, who must be the one to desire to preserve the peace that God has placed in his heart.  

“And the God of love and peace will be with you.” By bringing about peace, believers will have the joy of  experiencing God’s presence among them. God offers Himself first; if man opens the door to Him, He remains in his heart and in his life. If, on the other hand, man closes the door to Him—and he can close it at any moment—God leaves His dwelling place and Satan takes His place, settling in the heart of man and leading him towards evil.

“The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all.” This blessing, or prayer—one of the most beautiful Trinitarian texts in the New Testament—has become the opening greeting in the Holy Mass.

In the original Greek, there is no verb corresponding to the “be” in the English translation. The liturgy uses the singular “is” because it is a single reality: the Trinitarian mystery. The grace of the Lord Jesus is one and the same as the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit. They are not three things that add up but a single reality, and so the Greek text, correctly, does not use the verb. The Latin is a perfect copy of the Greek: “Dominus vobiscum”, that is, “The Lord be with you”. The verb ‘to be’ is not there.

The formula “The Lord be with you” seems more assertive (that is, it affirms a reality) than a wish. Since in the Eucharistic celebration we are gathered as a community of believers, as the Body of Christ, then “The Lord be with you” becomes an acknowledgement of reality: The Lord is present because we, his members, are gathered together to form his body, which is the Church.

Charis (grace), agapē (divine love), and koinōnìa (communion). The three divine Persons are characterised by these three aspects, which are, however, almost synonymous. Grace, love and communion signify being together with affection, friendship and goodness, and the community can constitute itself as the Church of God only if it continually receives this style that unites the Trinitarian life. The Church is the reflection of the Trinity; the Church can be the Church only if it lives by Trinitarian love.

 Argentino Quintavalle, author of the books 

- Revelation – an exegetical commentary 

- The Apostle Paul and the Judaizers – Law or Gospel?

Jesus Christ, true God and true Man in the Trinitarian mystery

The prophetic discourse of Jesus (Matthew 24–25)

All generations will call me blessed

 Catholics and Protestants compared – In defence of the faith

 The Church and Israel according to St Paul – Romans 9–11

(Available on Amazon)