19th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A)

(Mt 14:22–33)

Matthew 14:22 Immediately afterwards, he made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to the other side, whilst he dismissed the crowd. 

Matthew 14:23 After he had dismissed the crowd, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone. 

Matthew 14:24 Meanwhile, the boat was already many miles from the shore and was being tossed about by the waves, for the wind was against them. 

Matthew 14:25 Towards the end of the night, he went out to them, walking on the sea. 

The passage opens with Jesus ordering the disciples to get into the boat and go ahead of him to the other side because he has to dismiss the crowd. Jesus has both the disciples and the crowd before him, and he commands both, in different ways, to leave him.

Matthew’s use here of the verb ‘compel’ (ēnágkasen), in its Greek form, indicates a genuine forcing, a sort of rupture or separation that comes about between Jesus and his followers. The disciples, therefore, are forced, compelled, obliged to board the boat without Jesus. They had arrived there with him in the same boat; now they must set off again without him. The bond between Jesus and those who had followed him seems to be broken: each to their own. They must board the boat on their own and steer it to the other shore by themselves. This compulsion is completed by the command to go ahead of Jesus to the other shore. The disciples are called upon to continue the journey by boat without Jesus and to take the helm themselves.

The boat is a symbol of the Church, which is unstable; it floats on the water but could also sink. Now it must make the crossing, yet the Lord is not there. That ‘compelling’ also conveys the full extent of the disciples’ difficulty in moving forward without the physical presence of Jesus, who urges them onto the boat so that they may take possession of it and steer it responsibly. In other words, Jesus urges them to take charge of the nascent Church, symbolised by the boat. They must ‘go ahead of him to the other side’, that is, move forward on their own, without him, so that they may come to realise their role.

Jesus, on the other hand, would remain behind to bid farewell to the crowd. At certain moments, Jesus wishes to deal alone with those who seek him and to speak his words of farewell without any interference. It is not necessarily the case that the apostles must hear everything Jesus says to the people. In the relationship between God and the individual, there is always a word that escapes the knowledge of the Church; and it is the final and definitive one.

Jesus, having left the disciples and the crowd behind, ‘went up onto the mountain, by himself’. The expression is highly significant. First of all, the noun ‘mountain’ is preceded by the definite article. According to Church tradition, this refers to the Mount of the Beatitudes. Indeed, Jesus delivered his famous Sermon ‘on the mountain’, not on ‘a mountain’. Furthermore, in the Gospels, the mountain is more a theological concept than a geographical reference; it signifies the divine realm.

Jesus could very well have remained on the lakeshore to pray, but he went up the mountain. Prayer is an act of elevation, of ascent. The verb ‘to go up’ speaks to us of the disposition present in the person who wishes to draw near to God and thus distance themselves from all that is base and defiled. Climbing involves an effort, a metaphor for the spiritual quest to attain what is lacking in man because of sin. For a believer, ‘climbing the mountain’ represents detoxifying oneself, breathing fresh air, and purifying oneself of the impurities that lurk within. For Christians, Jesus’ ascent described in this episode is realised by closing the door to one’s ‘inner room’, where one leaves out all elements that might distract one, in order to enter into conversation with God and, above all, to ask that we be given what we need.

Verse 23 concludes with a reference to time: ‘When evening came’. We find the same expression at the beginning of the account of the Last Supper. Thus, the evangelist provides a key for the reader, to indicate that what he is about to narrate is connected with Jesus’ Last Supper. ‘When evening came’ foreshadows the end of the historical Jesus’ time; the church, like a boat, will have to set sail, navigating the treacherous waters of history, whilst Jesus is no longer physically with them. But Jesus does not abandon his own. Whilst the disciples may lose sight of Jesus, Jesus does not lose sight of his disciples. He simply watches over them from the top of the mountain, from a different vantage point—not that of an earthly man, but that of the Son of God who belongs to heaven and who desires to do nothing but what is in accordance with the Father’s will.

The Church sails through the adversities of history, symbolised by the headwind that makes her journey difficult. The wind that stirs the sea is a spirit that also stirs hearts; it symbolises the challenges and uncertainties of life. The disciples’ struggle against the wind mirrors our own efforts to control circumstances, even when we face forces beyond our power. A Christian may find themselves making little progress, not through any fault of their own, but because the wind is against them. Our good God will take into account the sincere intention with which we row. No distance can hide the church from Christ’s sight. Even when we do not see him, he sees us. He knows the direction of the wind and realises that it is not favourable to the Church’s journey. The time for his intervention is coming. Not in just any way, but by taking full control over the forces of evil. When? ‘Towards the end of the night’; a reference to the Church’s final, eschatological era, before the coming of the light of the new day, within which the new creation will be established.

Jesus walking on the waters signifies that he rules over the events of history, subduing all life’s storms beneath his feet. The sea is an element of separation between human beings; the land, by contrast, is an element of connection. Jesus walking on the waters negates the sea’s role as a separator; his walking endows the sea with the characteristics of the land. The overall effect produced is harmony between land and sea. The mountain upon which Jesus ascends, where he prays and from where he observes what is happening on the sea, is the point where the three elements—land, sea and sky—converge. This act of walking on water is not merely a demonstration of Jesus’ miraculous power, but a powerful symbol of his ability to overcome the chaos and turbulence of life. It conveys the message that Jesus is the source of stability amidst the storms of life. 

 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)

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)

(1Cor 10,1-6.10-12)

3rd Sunday in Lent (year C)

1Corinthians 10:1 For I do not want you to be ignorant, O brethren, that our fathers were all under the cloud, all crossed the sea,

1Corinthians 10:2 all were baptized in relation to Moses in the cloud and in the sea,

Paul, in this passage, refers us to the history of the past, to the lesson of history. He reminds us of the deeper meaning of history, which is the history of salvation. It is said that history is a teacher of life, but the pupils learn nothing. Paul instead says that from the history of Israel one must learn. The history of Israel is not just any history, but it is a way in which divine revelation was historically manifested. Revelation, in fact, was not manifested through the explanation of concepts, but through certain historical facts that are then also read and interpreted. The history of Israel is an exemplary history, so it is right and proper, if one wants to understand Jesus Christ, to see all the sacred history that prepares him. Among other things, this also accustoms us to reading our own little personal history, which is also salvation history because the Lord walks with us.

"For I do not want you to be ignorant": The Corinthians were supposed to know the facts narrated here, but the apostle wants them to know the typological significance that these facts have, and which is not to be ignored. Jesus Christ is the end result of a long journey, and we must know the journey that preceded it. Paul is very respectful of Israel's history and feels he must tell it. He refers us to these examples from the past that are extraordinary events, but they are also events of sin, and yet always instructive because they show what God's way is.

"Our fathers". Christians can consider the ancient Israelites as their fathers, because the Church succeeded the synagogue, and they are the true heirs and children of Abraham.

"They were all": Three times Paul repeats this expression. As if to say that salvation had been given to all. For all were led by the cloud, that is, by the presence of God, and all crossed the sea. All gained freedom from slavery and all were guided by God on the way to the promised land. Hence, on God's part, no exclusion, no preference towards some at the expense of others. He brought all his people out of Egypt, for all he parted the sea, for all he willed the cloud. All were in the condition of grace and truth that would enable them to conquer the promised land and possess it forever.

This universality of grace and truth for Paul is akin to a baptism. There is an immersion also of the children of Israel, even though their baptism is merely a figure of that instituted by Jesus Christ. However, there is a true immersion of the Israelites in the sea and in the 'cloud' and this immersion for them is true salvation, true deliverance.

Israel lived under the cloud, that mysterious cloud that guided the Israelites through the desert and sheltered them from the sun: signifying the presence of God, the Shekinah. To be under the cloud is to be under God's protection. They crossed the sea and were baptised: the passage from the land of slavery, which is Egypt, to the promised land, takes place through the crossing of the Red Sea, and this is a baptism because it signifies the detachment from the slavery of Egypt, liberation and purification, and the journey to the promised land.

"To be of Moses". Moses, the mediator of the old covenant, was a figure of Jesus Christ, and the Israelites led by him to the promised land were a figure of the Christians led by Jesus Christ to heaven. Now, just as Christians through baptism are incorporated into Jesus Christ and made subject to him as their Lord, whose laws they are bound to observe, so for the Israelites the mysterious cloud and the crossing of the Red Sea were a kind of baptism, whereby they remained subject to Moses and obliged to observe his laws. From that moment on, the people were separated from Egypt forever and belonged to the God who liberated them and to the prophet-mediator whom God gave them as their leader.

The mysterious cloud, a perceptible sign of God's presence, and of the favour He bestowed on His people, was a figure of the Holy Spirit, who is given in the baptism of Jesus Christ, and similarly the dry-foot passage through the Red Sea and the consequent deliverance from the bondage of Pharaoh, were figures of our deliverance from the bondage of sin through the waters of baptism.

Having stated this truth, Paul reminds us that it is not enough to come out of Egypt to have the promised land. The going out is one thing, the conquest and possession of the land is another. Between going out and conquering the land, there is a whole desert to cross. For the Israelites, the desert lasted for forty years; for Christians it lasts their whole life.

With baptism we come out of the slavery of sin, with a life of perseverance striving to conquer the kingdom of heaven we walk towards the glorious resurrection that will take place on the last day.

 Argentino Quintavalle, author of the books 

- Revelation - 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

(Buyable on Amazon) 

Ps 17 (18)

This monumental ode, which the title attributes to David, is a Te Deum of the king of Israel, it is his hymn of thanksgiving to God because he has been delivered from all his enemies and from the hand of Saul. David acknowledges that God alone was his Deliverer, his Saviour.

David begins with a profession of love (v. 2). He shouts to the world his love for the Lord. The word he uses is 'rāḥam', meaning to love very tenderly, as in the case of a mother's love. The Lord is his strength. David is weak as a man. With God, who is his strength, he is strong. It is God's strength that makes him strong. This truth applies to every man. Every man is weak, and remains so unless God becomes his strength.

God for David is everything (v.3). The Lord for David is rock, fortress. He is his Deliverer. He is the rock in which he takes refuge. He is the shield that defends him from the enemy. The Lord is his mighty salvation and his bulwark. The Lord is simply his life, his protection, his defence. It is a true declaration of love and truth.

David's salvation is from the Lord (v. 4). It is not from his worthiness. The Lord is worthy of praise. God cannot but be praised. He does everything well. It is enough for David to call upon the Lord and he will be saved from his enemies. Always the Lord answers when David calls upon him. David's salvation is from his prayer, from his invocation.

Then David describes from what dangers the Lord delivered him. He was surrounded by billows of death, like a drowning man swept away by waves. He was overwhelmed by raging torrents. From these things no one can free himself. From these things only the Lord delivers and saves.

David's winning weapon is faith that is transformed into heartfelt prayer to be raised to the Lord, because only the Lord could help him, and it is to Him that David cries out in his distress. This is what David does: in his distress, he does not lose himself, he does not lose his faith, he remains whole. He turns his faith into prayer. He invokes the Lord. He cries out to Him. He asks Him for help and succour. God hears David's voice, hears it from his temple. His cry reaches him.

God becomes angry because He sees His elect in danger. The Lord's anger produces an upheaval of the whole earth. The earth trembles and shakes. The foundations of the mountains shake. It is as if a mighty earthquake turned the globe upside down. The spiritual fact is translated into such a profound upheaval of nature that one has the impression that creation itself is about to cease to exist. In this catastrophe that strikes terror, the righteous is rescued.

The Lord frees David because he loves him. Here is the secret of the answer to the prayer: the Lord loves David (v. 20). The Lord loves David because David loves the Lord. Prayer is a relationship of love between man and God. David invokes God's love. God's love responds and draws him to safety.

"Wholesome have I been with him, and I have guarded myself from guilt" (v. 24). David's conscience testifies for him. David prayed with an upright conscience, with a pure heart. This he says not only to God, but to every man. Everyone must know that the righteous is truly righteous. The world must know the integrity of God's children. We have a duty to confess it. It is on integrity that truly human relationships can be built. Without integrity, every relationship is tightened on falsehood and lies.

"The way of God is straight, the word of the Lord is tried by fire" (v. 31). What is the secret because God is with David? It is David's abiding in the Word of God. David has a certainty: the way indicated by the Word of God is straight. One only has to follow it. This certainty is lacking in the hearts of many today. Many do not believe in the purity of God's Word. Many think that it is now outdated. Modernity cannot stand under the Word of God.

"For who is God, if not the Lord? Or who is rock, if not our God?" Now David professes his faith in the Lord for all to know. Is there any other God but the Lord? God alone is the Lord. God alone is the rock of salvation. To seek another God is idolatry. This profession of faith must always be made aloud (remember the 'Creed'). Convinced people are needed. A faith hidden in the heart is dead. A seed placed in the ground springs up and reveals the nature of the tree. Faith that is in the heart must sprout up and reveal its nature of truth, holiness, righteousness, love and hope. A faith that does not reveal its nature is dead. It is a useless faith.

"He grants his king great victories; he shows himself faithful to his anointed, to David and his seed for ever" (v. 51). In this Psalm, David sees himself as the work of God's hands. That is why he blesses him, praises him, magnifies him. God's faithfulness and great favours for David do not end with David. God's faithfulness is for all his descendants. We know that David's descendants are Jesus Christ. With Jesus God is faithful for ever. With the other descendants, God will be faithful if they are faithful to Jesus Christ.

Here, then, the figure of David disappears to make way for that of the perfect king in whom the saving action that God offers the world is concentrated. In the light of this reinterpretation, the ode entered the Christian liturgy as a victory song of Christ, the 'son of David', over the forces of evil and as a hymn of the salvation he offered.

 Argentino Quintavalle, author of the books 

- Revelation - 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

(Buyable on Amazon)