Pentecost Sunday (year A)  [24 May 2026]

 

First Reading from the Acts of the Apostles (2:1–11)

Jerusalem is not only the city where Jesus instituted the Eucharist, but the city where he rose from the dead and where the Spirit was poured out upon humanity. In Christ’s time, the Jewish feast of Pentecost was of the utmost importance because it was the feast of the giving of the Law, one of the three annual feasts for which people made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. The list of all the nationalities gathered in Jerusalem for the occasion is proof of this. Jerusalem was therefore teeming with people from all over, thousands of devout Jews, some of whom had travelled from far away. It was the year of Jesus’ death, but who among them knew this? I have deliberately said ‘the death’ of Jesus, without mentioning his resurrection, because for the time being his resurrection was still confidential news. These were people who had come from all over and who had perhaps never even heard of a certain Jesus of Nazareth. 

They came to Jerusalem in the fervour, faith and enthusiasm of a pilgrimage to renew the Covenant with God. For the disciples, however, this feast of Pentecost, fifty days after his resurrection, is unlike any other, for to them nothing is as it was before; yet this does not mean they expect what is about to happen. To help us understand clearly what is happening, Luke recounts it by carefully evoking three passages from the Old Testament: first, the giving of the Law at Sinai; second, a word from the prophet Joel; third, the episode of the Tower of Babel. First, let us begin with Sinai: the tongues of fire at Pentecost, the sound ‘like a mighty wind’, bring to mind what had happened at Sinai, when God gave the tablets of the Law to Moses, as we read in the Book of Exodus (19:16–19). By drawing a parallel with the event at Sinai, Saint Luke wants us to understand that this Pentecost, that year, is much more than a traditional pilgrimage: it is a new Sinai. Just as God had given his Law to his people to teach them how to live within the Covenant, so now God gives his own Spirit to his people. Now God’s Law, which is the only means of living truly free and happy, is no longer written on tablets of stone but on tablets of flesh, in the heart of man, to borrow an image from Ezekiel. Secondly, Luke wished to evoke a word of the prophet Joel: “I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh” (3:1–2), says God; “all flesh” meaning every human being. In Luke’s view, these Jews from every nation under heaven, as he calls them, symbolise the whole of humanity for whom Joel’s prophecy is finally fulfilled. This means that the famous, long-awaited “Day of the Lord” has arrived. Thirdly, we can summarise the story of Babel in two acts: Act 1, all people spoke the same language: they had the same speech and the same words, and they decided to undertake a great project that would mobilise all their energies: the construction of an immense tower. Act 2: God intervenes to put a stop to it: He scatters them across the face of the earth and confuses their languages. From then on, people will no longer understand one another. Unless one wishes to judge God’s intentions, it is impossible to imagine that he acted for any reason other than our happiness. Therefore, if God intervenes, it is to spare humanity a false path: the path of a single mindset, of a single project; something like ‘my children, you seek unity, and that is good; but do not go astray: unity does not lie in uniformity. True unity in love can only be found in diversity’. The account of Pentecost in Luke fits well within the narrative of Babel: at Babel, humanity learns diversity; at Pentecost, it learns unity in diversity: now all the nations under heaven hear the one message proclaimed in their various languages: the wonders of God.

Note: The first reading and the psalm are common to the feasts of Pentecost across the three liturgical years. However, the second reading and the Gospel vary each year.

 

Responsorial Psalm (103/104)

Read in its entirety, this psalm offers thirty-six verses of pure praise, of wonder at the works of God. It is not surprising that it is proposed to us for the feast of Pentecost, given that Luke, in the Acts of the Apostles, recounts that on the morning of Pentecost the Apostles, filled with the Holy Spirit, began to proclaim the wonders of God in every language. One might observe that to marvel at creation there is no need to have faith, and in every civilisation one finds magnificent poems on the beauties of nature. In Egypt, on the tomb of a Pharaoh, a poem written by the famous Pharaoh Akhenaten was discovered: a hymn to the Sun-God. Amenhotep IV lived around 1350 BC, at a time when the Jews were probably in Egypt and would have known this poem. There are similarities in style and vocabulary between the Pharaoh’s poem and Psalm 103/104. The language of wonder is the same across all latitudes, but what is interesting are the differences, which are the hallmark of the Revelation given to the people of the Covenant. The first difference, and it is essential to the faith of Israel, is that God alone is God; there is no other God but him; and therefore the sun is not a god. The Bible puts the sun and the moon in their place: they are not gods but merely luminaries, creatures themselves: one of the verses of the psalm states this clearly: “You, God, have made the moon to mark the seasons and the sun that knows the hour of its setting.” There are verses not chosen for the feast of Pentecost which clearly present God as the sole Lord of Creation, and a wholly regal vocabulary is used: God is presented as a magnificent, majestic and victorious King. A second distinctive feature of the Bible: creation is only good, and one hears an echo of the poem in Genesis which repeats tirelessly, like a refrain, “And God saw that it was good!”. Psalm 103/104 evokes all the elements of creation with the same wonder: I rejoice in the Lord, and the psalmist adds, in a verse we do not hear this Sunday: “I will sing to the Lord as long as I live, I will sing hymns to my God as long as I exist…” Yet evil is not ignored: the end of the psalm clearly evokes it and hopes for its disappearance; but the people of the Old Testament had understood that evil is not God’s doing, for the whole of creation is good. And we know that one day God will remove all evil from the earth: the King who triumphs over the elements will overcome everything that stands in the way of human happiness. A third distinctive feature of the faith of Israel: creation is an enduring relationship between the Creator and his creatures. When we say in the Creed, “I believe in God the Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth”, we are not merely affirming our faith in an initial act of God, but we acknowledge ourselves to be in a relationship of dependence on him, and the psalm expresses this very well: “All wait for you… Hide your face: they fail; take away their breath: they die and return to their dust. Send forth your Spirit, they are created, and you renew the face of the earth.” Another distinctive feature of the faith of Israel is that at the summit of creation stands man,  created to be the king of creation, filled with the very breath of God. And this  is what we celebrate at Pentecost: the Spirit of God within us vibrates in his presence, and the psalmist sings, “Let the Lord rejoice in his works… I will rejoice in the Lord.”  Finally, and this is very important, in Israel every reflection on creation is set within the perspective of the Covenant: having experienced God’s work of liberation, they meditated on creation in the light of this experience, and in this psalm we find traces of this: first of all, the name of God used here is the famous four-letter name, YHWH, which we translate as Lord, the revelation of the God of the Covenant.

Furthermore, “Lord, my God, how great you are!” The expression “my God” with the possessive is always a reference to the Covenant, since God’s plan in this Covenant was precisely stated in the formula “You shall be my people and I shall be your God”. This promise is fulfilled in the gift of the Spirit “to every person”, as the prophet Joel says. Now, every person is invited to receive the gift of the Spirit to truly become a child of God.

 

Second Reading from the First Letter of Saint Paul to the Corinthians (12:3b-7, 12-13)

Paul defines the Church as the place where “to each is given a manifestation of the Spirit for the common good”, not therefore for our own vanity, but for the good of all. And it is a free gift for all, just as the members of the body are freely at the service of the whole body. The work of the Spirit in the world resembles an immense mosaic with different pieces held together and united by the invisible action of the Spirit. As communities multiply, the mosaic spreads like wildfire and becomes ever more harmonious. In these communities, Jews and Gentiles, slaves and free men, break down the barriers of prejudice and division, recognising one another as brothers and sisters, members of a single body thanks to the one Baptism that incorporates us all into Christ. Paul certainly had good reasons to insist on unity, for the Christians in Corinth were of such diverse origins—Jews or Gentiles with conflicting sensitivities and religious traditions—and at times the early believers found it difficult to accept the newcomers. To place Jews and pagans on the same religious footing, given the weight that the election of Israel must have carried in Paul’s eyes, was nonetheless very bold! These issues and difficulties, present and highlighted by Paul in the Corinthian community, have not been absent over the centuries and persist even today within the Church. The law that animates believers is always the word of Jesus, who urged the apostles: “You know that the rulers of the nations lord it over them, and the great ones exercise authority over them. It shall not be so among you.” (Mt 20:25–26). Paul sees the Church not as a pyramid, but as a crowd gathered around Jesus Christ, the one Master, and, furthermore, as a living body made up of all the baptised, where those in authority do not view it as superiority, but as a mission in the service of all. Diversity becomes a mutual gift for everyone: “There are different charisms,” observes the Apostle, “and to each is given a manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.” Our differences thus become riches, and it is precisely through them that unity is built—a unity that is never uniformity, or worse, standardisation. Herein lies one of the great messages of Pentecost, where all the different languages come together to sing the same song, “the wonders of God”. Since then, the Church has sought to overcome differences in sensibility by learning to live through the labour of reconciliation, sustained by the Spirit given to us at Pentecost, the Spirit of love, forgiveness and reconciliation. The capacity for reconciliation and mutual respect is a true sign of the Spirit’s action and a witness that the world awaits: “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples: if you have love for one another,” said Jesus at the Last Supper (Jn 13:35). Unity in diversity is a beautiful challenge that we can overcome only because the Spirit has been given to us: the same Spirit, the Spirit of Love that unites the Father and the Son. From the lesson of Babel we understand that unity does not lie in uniformity, and from Pentecost we understand that true unity in love can only be found in diversity and is always a gift of the Spirit and an image on earth of the Trinitarian communion, the perichoresis between the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.

            

From the Gospel according to John (20:19–23)

 To impart the Holy Spirit to his disciples, Jesus breathes on them; this brings to mind the famous phrase from the Book of Genesis, chapter 2: ‘The Lord God breathed into the man’s nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being’. And Psalm 103/104, which we also hear on this feast of Pentecost, comments on the text of Creation by singing: Send forth your Spirit, and all things shall be created. Now, it is the evening of Easter and Jesus takes up this gesture of the Creator. We can understand why Saint John notes: “It was the evening of that day, the first of the week”, a way of saying that it is the first day of the new creation. The Jews often recalled the creation that God had accomplished in seven days, as we read in the first chapter of Genesis, and awaited the eighth day, that of the Messiah. In his own way, John tells us: the eighth day has come and it is a true re-creation of humanity. Let us take up three phrases from the account of Pentecost that John offers us here. The first: “As the Father has sent me, so I send you”; the second: “He breathed on them and said: Receive the Holy Spirit”; and the third: “Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them”. The first and third phrases express a mission; the second speaks of the gift, namely the Holy Spirit given to fulfil the mission received. And this mission consists in “forgiving sins”. “As the Father has sent me, so I send you”. Jesus is the one sent by the Father, and we, who are sent by Jesus, have the same mission as him. This speaks to our responsibility, the trust placed in us, and concerns all the baptised, since the Church has always deemed it appropriate to confirm all the baptised. Jesus’ mission, to limit ourselves to the Gospel of John, is to take away the sin of the world, indeed to “eradicate” the sin of the world, being the Lamb of God, the one who takes away the sin of the world, as John the Baptist had prophesied. The Lamb, meek and humble of heart in the face of his executioners according to the prophecy of Isaiah 52–53, is the Paschal Lamb, who seals with his life the liberation of God’s people. Beyond the liberation of the chosen people from slavery in Egypt, the Gospel speaks to us of liberation from sin, hatred and violence. Jesus thus presents his mission: “God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life.” We must keep these words of the Lord in mind to understand the phrase in today’s text that is not immediately clear: “Whose sins you forgive, they are forgiven; whose sins you do not forgive, they are not forgiven.” Or, according to another version, “Whose sins you remit, they are remitted; whose sins you do not remit, they are not remitted.” The first part of the sentence presents no difficulty, but the second may not be easily understood. It is impossible to think that God, who is Father, could fail to forgive us. The Old Testament had already highlighted that God’s forgiveness even precedes our repentance, for in God forgiveness is not a one-off act but defines his very being. God is gift and forgiveness. The hallmark of mercy is God’s bending down towards the wretched—that is, towards all of us.  The power given to the disciples—indeed, the mission entrusted to them—is to communicate and pass on God’s forgiveness. Consequently, there is the terrible responsibility, expressed in the second part of the sentence, not merely to speak the word of God’s forgiveness, but to do everything possible so that the world does not ignore this forgiveness and thus fall prey to despair. God’s forgiveness, proclaimed through words and concrete actions, makes us ‘living forgiveness’, apostles of Divine Mercy. At Pentecost, God breathes the words of forgiveness, and the Holy Spirit continues to breathe words and gestures of forgiveness into our spirit, making us ‘lambs of God’ with the power to overcome the spiral of hatred and violence. “I am sending you out like lambs among wolves” to respond to violence and hatred with non-violence, meekness and forgiveness, thus hastening the arrival of the day when all humanity will live immersed in love and forgiveness: it will be the triumph of Divine Mercy!

 

+Giovanni D’Ercole

Ascension of the Lord (year A) and VII Easter Sunday [Thursday 14 May 2026]

 

First Reading from the Acts of the Apostles (1:1–11)

The opening verses serve as a bridge between the Acts of the Apostles and the Gospel of Luke, which is also dedicated to a certain Theophilus. One begins where the other ends, namely with the account of Jesus’ Ascension, even though the two accounts do not agree on everything. The Gospel recounts Jesus’ mission and preaching; the second is dedicated to the mission and preaching of the Apostles, hence the name “Acts of the Apostles”. The parallel can be taken further: the Gospel begins and ends in Jerusalem, the centre of the Jewish world and of the First Covenant; the Acts begin in Jerusalem, because the New Covenant is a continuation of the First, but they end in Rome, the crossroads of all the roads of the then-known world: the New Covenant now extends beyond the borders of Israel. For Luke, it is clear that this expansion is the work of the Holy Spirit. It is the very Spirit of Jesus and will be the inspiration of the Apostles from Pentecost onwards, so much so that the Acts are often called “the Gospel of the Spirit”. Just as Jesus had prepared for his mission with forty days in the desert after his Baptism, so too does he prepare the Church for forty days: “For forty days he appeared to them and spoke about the kingdom of God”. During a final meal, he gives his instructions: a command, a promise, a sending forth on mission. The command is almost surprising: to wait and not to move. “He instructed them not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait for the fulfilment of the Father’s promise.” That the Father’s promises would be fulfilled in Jerusalem certainly did not surprise the Eleven, all of whom were Jews, for the entire preaching of the prophets assigned Jerusalem a decisive role in the fulfilment of God’s plan. Luke specifies the content of the promise: “John baptised with water, but you will be baptised in the Holy Spirit in a few days’ time.” The apostles had in mind the prophecies of Joel: “I will pour out my Spirit upon all people” (Joel 3:1–2), and of Zechariah: “On that day there shall be a fountain opened for the house of David and for the inhabitants of Jerusalem, to cleanse them from sin and impurity” (Zech 13:1)  and Ezekiel: “I will sprinkle clean water upon you, and you shall be cleansed… I will give you a new heart, and  I will put a new spirit within you… I will put my Spirit within you” (Ezek 36:25–27).

The apostles’ question “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?” shows that they had clearly understood that the famous Day of the Lord had dawned. Jesus’ reply should not surprise us: God calls upon human cooperation to bring about his plan, and the salvation of God, which has come through Jesus Christ, calls upon people to enter into it. For this to happen, people must know of it, and from this arises the mission and responsibility of the Apostles. The Spirit is given to them for this purpose: “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses.” This means that between the gift of the Spirit and the definitive coming of the Kingdom there is an interval which is the time of witness: an interval that is all the longer the more the message is to be brought to all humanity. “You will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, throughout Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” The Book of Acts follows this plan exactly. Just as on Easter morning “two men in dazzling robes” had torn the women away from their contemplation, saying, “Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here; he has risen”, so on the day of the Ascension two men in white robes do the same with the Apostles: “Men of Galilee, why do you stand gazing into the sky? This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven”. He will return, we are certain of it, and that is why we say at every Eucharist: “As we await the fulfilment of our blessed hope and the coming of our Saviour Jesus Christ”. In the Bible, the cloud is the visible sign of God’s presence, as at the crossing of the Red Sea or at the Transfiguration. The cloud that hides Jesus from human sight is the sign that he has now entered God’s realm: his physical and visible presence thus ceases to inaugurate his spiritual presence. It is impossible to reconstruct exactly what happened between Jesus’ Resurrection, on Easter night, and the day he definitively left his apostles to return to the Father. In Luke’s accounts, in both the Gospel and the Acts of the Apostles, the two narratives are very similar: Jesus’ departure takes place near Jerusalem, for the Gospel speaks of Bethany and the Acts of the Mount of Olives; in both, Luke specifies that Jesus instructs the disciples not to leave Jerusalem before they have received the Holy Spirit. The only difference concerns the timing: in the Gospel, it seems that the departure takes place on Easter evening itself; after appearing to the disciples on the road to Emmaus, they return to Jerusalem to tell the Eleven everything; and it is whilst they are talking together that Jesus appears, stays with them, and explains the Scriptures; then he leads them to Bethany and there disappears from their sight for good. In Acts, however, Luke specifies that forty days elapsed between Easter and the Ascension; and this is why we celebrate the the Ascension forty days after Easter. In the other Gospels there is almost nothing on this: in Matthew there is no account of the Ascension, but only an appearance of Jesus to two women who had gone to the tomb and then to the disciples in Galilee, during which he utters the phrase with which his Gospel concludes: “ Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit’ John gives a more detailed account of several appearances of the Risen One, one to Mary Magdalene and three to the disciples, the last by the Sea of Tiberias; but he does not recount the Ascension. As for Mark, he recounts the appearance to Mary Magdalene, then to two disciples who were going out into the countryside, and finally to the Eleven. Jesus sends them to preach the Gospel to the whole world, and Mark concludes by saying: “The Lord Jesus, after speaking to them, was taken up into heaven and sat at the right hand of God” . These differences between the Gospels prove that their details do not aim at historical or geographical reality: Matthew has his reasons for speaking of Galilee. Luke, on the other hand, has his own reasons for emphasising Jerusalem, because it was there that Jesus told them to wait for the gift of the Spirit, and Luke’s Gospel ends with Jesus’ final instruction: “And behold, I am sending upon you the one whom my Father has promised; but you must remain in the city until you are clothed with power from on high” (Lk 24:49).

 

Responsorial Psalm (46/47)

Here Israel sings and acclaims God as its king, and this is not surprising; but what is even more astonishing is that it says God is the king of the whole earth. Now, this was not always the view in Israel. Before the Babylonian Exile, none of the kings of Israel imagined that God was the Lord of the entire universe. This means that the psalm was composed late in the history of the chosen people. I shall focus on the first statement: God is the king of Israel. For a long period of biblical history, Israel had kings, like its neighbouring peoples, but its conception of kingship was unique, and this distinctiveness persisted throughout its history. In Israel, the king could never claim to be the highest authority in the land and did not hold absolute power, for God remained the sovereign. In other words, the true king in Israel was none other than God Himself. The king, for example, could not interpret the laws as he pleased and  had, like everyone else, to submit to the Law of God given to Moses on Mount Sinai. According to the Book of Deuteronomy, he was required to read the entire Law every day of his life. Even whilst sitting on the throne, he was, in principle, merely an executor of God’s commands conveyed by the prophets. In the Books of Kings, in fact, we often see one king or another seeking the consent of the prophet of the day before going into battle or even, in David’s case, before undertaking the construction of the Temple. And on several occasions we see the prophets intervening freely in the lives of the kings and sometimes violently criticising their behaviour. The affirmation of God’s sovereignty was even a hindrance to the establishment of the monarchy. One recalls the very violent reaction of the prophet Samuel, in the time of the Judges, when the leaders of the tribes of Israel came to tell him that they wanted a king ‘to be like the other nations’. To desire to be ‘like the other nations’ when one had the honour of being the people chosen by God for the covenant was, in his eyes, a true blasphemy. He eventually yielded to the insistence of the tribal leaders, but not without warning them that they were bringing ruin upon themselves. And when he anointed the first king, Saul, he took care to specify that he was becoming the head of God’s inheritance. The people remained God’s people and not the king’s, and the king was but a servant of God. And throughout the monarchy in Israel, the prophets took it upon themselves to remind the kings of this fundamental truth. To the extent that the Books of Kings, when recounting the successive reigns, have but one criterion of judgement: the faithfulness of each king to God’s will. One phrase recurs constantly: ‘Such-and-such a king did what was right in the eyes of the Lord’, or conversely, ‘Such-and-such a king did what was evil in the eyes of the Lord’. It is therefore in honour of God himself that our psalm deploys here the entire vocabulary otherwise reserved for the kings of the earth. The very word ‘awesome’ is a compliment; it is a common term in courtly language and is reassuring: the enemies are warned, our king will be invincible. In every line of this psalm, it is clear that we are speaking of the God of Sinai, the Lord, who is acclaimed as God and King of the entire universe. This universal dimension is very much present in the psalm, to the point of stating that “God reigns over the pagan nations”. Now, the discovery of monotheism dates only to the Babylonian Exile: until then, the people of Israel were not yet monotheists. To be monotheists means to affirm that there is only one God, the same for the entire cosmos and humanity. Before the Exile, this was not the case: it is said that Israel was ‘monolatristic’; that is, it recognised for itself a single God, the God of the Sinai Covenant. But it believed that other peoples had their own gods. This psalm was therefore probably composed after the return from the Exile, and it was not in the throne room that these acclamations resounded, but in the rebuilt Temple of Jerusalem. Even now, the Jews already imagine the Day when God will finally be recognised for what He is, the Father of all goodness. We Christians, in turn, take up this psalm. And the phrase “God ascends amidst the acclamations” is most fitting for the celebration of the Ascension of Jesus Christ. Even though Christ’s kingship has not yet been fully realised and the evangelists do not recount any coronation ceremony for Christ. All the more reason to pay Jesus this magnificent tribute now, which merely anticipates the last day when all the children of God, finally gathered together, will sing: “All you peoples, clap your hands! Acclaim God with shouts of joy” 

 

Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Ephesians (1:17–23)

The Letter to the Ephesians is divided into two parts: in chapters 1–3 there is a lengthy contemplation of God’s plan, and in chapters 4–6 an exhortation to the baptised to conform their lives to this mystery. For the feast of the the Ascension, the liturgy offers a passage from the first part in Year A and from the second part in Year B. The first part begins with a lengthy blessing formula in the Jewish style, which in our Christian liturgy we might call a ‘preface’, and it concerns God’s ‘merciful plan’ (Eph 1:3–6). The baptised already share in this mysterious plan of God which, one day, will be extended to all humanity. And Paul speaks of the privilege of us Christians who, having heard the word of truth, that is, the Gospel, have received the seal of the Holy Spirit, a pledge of our inheritance, whilst we await full redemption.  We find all these terms in today’s reading, but in the form of a prayer, generally known as the ‘prayer for enlightenment’, since it takes the light of God to penetrate even a little into this mystery: “May he enlighten the eyes of your heart so that you may understand to what hope he has called you, what treasure of glory his inheritance among the saints holds…” And we know full well that the understanding of which he speaks is not a matter of reason but of the heart, a profound openness to being taught and enlightened. And Paul, as a Jew, knows full well that God’s wisdom is inaccessible to man unless God himself reveals himself to him: “May the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation for a deeper knowledge of him.” And what lies at the end of this knowledge towards which we are journeying? An inheritance of inestimable value, says Paul. The word “inheritance” in verse 18, and indeed in verse 14, recurs frequently in the Bible: in the Old Testament it refers to the land promised by God to the faithful. The same term is taken up in the New Testament, particularly in Paul’s letters, to denote the Kingdom and eternal life. For example: “The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are children of God. And if we are children, we are also heirs: heirs of God, joint-heirs with Christ’ (Rom 8:16–17). ‘Giving thanks with joy to the Father who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the light’ (Col 1:12). ‘ All nations are called, in Christ Jesus, to share in the same inheritance, to form the same body and to be partakers of the same promise through the Gospel” (Eph 3:8). James also develops this theme: “Has not God chosen those who are poor in the eyes of the world, who are rich in faith and heirs of the Kingdom, promised to those who love him?” (Jas 2:5) .  And the Letter to the Hebrews, for its part, often takes up the theme: “God, who in times past spoke to our ancestors many times and in various ways through the prophets, has in these last days spoken to us through his Son, whom he appointed heir of all things and through whom he also made the world” (Heb 1:1–2); and a little further on: “That those who have been called may receive the eternal inheritance that was promised” (Heb 9:15) For, and this is the profound reason for Paul’s wonder, the Lord’s disciples are already associated with the triumph of their risen Master. Nothing in this world need frighten them any longer, for death has been conquered and the gates to eternal life are open. The work that God accomplishes in the hearts of believers is a true inner resurrection. 

 

From the Gospel according to Matthew 28:16–20

Here is Jesus’ farewell discourse, after the Resurrection, in Galilee, commonly called the ‘crossroads of the Gentiles’, the ‘Galilee of the nations’, for the Apostles’ mission now concerns ‘all nations’ . The Gospel of Matthew seems to end abruptly: but in reality, the adventure is just beginning. It is like a film in which the word “THE END” appears on a road stretching out towards infinity. For it is precisely towards infinity that Jesus sends them: the immensity of the world and the infinity of the ages. “Go… Make disciples of all nations… Until the end of the world.” But were the disciples ready for such a mission? If Jesus were a business leader, he could not risk entrusting the future of his enterprise to collaborators like these, who seem not to have fully absorbed all the training he had provided over months. They are mistaken about the objective, the timing, and the nature of the enterprise. They even go so far as to doubt the reality they are experiencing, for Matthew clearly states, “some, however, doubted” (Mt 28:17). The mission entrusted to them, fraught with risks, is to promote a message that still surprises them. Folly, the wise would say; the wisdom of God, Saint Paul would reply. This is certainly no trivial undertaking: it surpasses everything the human spirit can imagine or conceive. It is a matter of communication between God and humankind. He who kindled the spark entrusts to his disciples the task of spreading the fire: “Go! Make disciples of all nations: baptise them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit”. “In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit”: we do not often have the opportunity to dwell on this extraordinary formula of our faith. It is, in fact, the first formulation of the mystery of the Trinity: the expression “in the name of”, common in the Bible, signifies that there is indeed one God; at the same time, the three Persons are named and clearly distinguished: “ In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit”. If we recall that, in the Bible, the Name is the person, and that to baptise etymologically means “to immerse”, this means that Baptism literally immerses us in the Trinity. We understand Jesus’s peremptory command to his disciples: “Go”; there is urgency. How can we not be eager to see all humanity take advantage of this offer? At the same time, it must be said that this formula, so familiar to us, was a true revolution for the generation of Christ! Proof of this is that when the apostles Peter and John healed the lame man at the Beautiful Gate, the authorities immediately asked: “By what power or in whose name have you done this?” (Acts 4:7), because it was not permitted to invoke any name other than that of God. Jesus speaks precisely of God, but his statement mentions three persons, whereas God was one; the prophets had made this clear enough. The Jews’ misunderstanding of Christ’s followers is recorded here; persecution was inevitable. Jesus knows this, and he had warned them on the last evening: “ They will expel you from the synagogues; indeed, the hour is coming when whoever kills you will think they are offering worship to God, that is, they will think they are defending God’s honour (Jn 16:2)… And Jesus added: ‘They will do this because they have not known either the Father or me’ (Jn 16:3). The mission entrusted to the apostles truly seems like madness; but they are not alone, and this must never be forgotten. Insofar as our commitment is not our own but His, we have no reason to worry about the results: “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go!” (Mt 28:18–19). In other words, it is we who go, but it is he who has all power. It is said that a few days after his election, John XXIII received a visit from a friend: “Most Holy Father,” he said, “how heavy the task must be!” John XXIII replied: “It’s true, in the evening, when I lie down, I think: ‘Angelo, you are the Pope,’ and I struggle to fall asleep; but after a few minutes I say to myself: ‘Angelo, how stupid you are, you are not the one in charge of the Church, it is the Holy Spirit.’ Then I turn over and fall asleep!” For us too, evangelisation must be our passion, not our anguish. Jesus made it quite clear: “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.” This sentence alone sums up the life of Christ: this takes place on a mountain, we do not know which one, but it evokes both the Mount of Temptation and the Mount of Transfiguration. On the Mount of Temptation, Jesus refused to receive power over creation from anyone other than the Father: “The devil took him up to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendour, and said to him: “All these things I will give you if you will fall down and worship me.” Then Jesus answered him, ‘Be gone, Satan! For it is written: “You shall worship the Lord your God, and him alone shall you serve”’ (cf. Mt 4:8–10). This power, which Jesus did not claim nor purchase, is given to him by the Father. And now this power is in our hands! “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go! And Jesus adds, ‘I am with you always, even to the end of the age.’ The God of Presence revealed to Moses in the burning bush, the Emmanuel – which means ‘God with us’ – promised by Isaiah, are one in the Spirit of love that unites them. Ours is the mission to reveal to the world this loving presence of the Triune God.

 

 

Seventh Sunday in Easter  (year A)  [17 May 2026]

 

First Reading from the Acts of the Apostles (1:12–14)

The first sentence of the text sums up in a few words a crucial stage in the lives of the early Christians. For us it is the Ascension and we have made it a feast day, but, originally, was it not rather a day of mourning, a day of great departure? After the horror of Jesus’ Passion and death, after the splendour of the Resurrection, here they were, orphaned forever. But precisely for this reason they are closer to us, and their attitude can guide our own. Let us therefore look closely at their actions. Jesus had given them instructions: not to leave Jerusalem and to wait there for the gift of the Holy Spirit. Here is the account from the Acts: ‘While he was at table with them, he ordered them not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait for the fulfilment of the Father’s promise. “‘What,’ he said, ‘you have heard from me: John baptised with water, but you will be baptised in the Holy Spirit in a few days’” . And on the very day of his departure, on the Mount of Olives, he repeated: “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, throughout Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” I dwell on this expression “the power of the Spirit”, which should reassure us in every circumstance. And Luke recounts: “Having said this, whilst they were looking on, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him from their sight.” Obviously, they obeyed the Master’s command. It is therefore no surprise to find them in Jerusalem shortly afterwards; Luke notes that the Mount of Olives is very close to the city: the distance does not exceed what is known as the ‘Sabbath journey’, that is, the maximum distance one may travel without violating the Sabbath rest; it was just under a kilometre, two thousand cubits, and a cubit, as the name suggests, is the length of the forearm, about fifty centimetres. But why does Luke give this precise measurement? Are we to infer that it was the Sabbath? Or, by emphasising the proximity of the Mount of Olives, does Luke wish to suggest that everything is fulfilled in Jerusalem? It is there that God’s plan is fulfilled: there the Son was glorified, there the Covenant between God and humanity was renewed, there the Spirit will be given. It is in the holy city, therefore, that the life of the nascent Church begins; and Luke lists those who make up the group: the Eleven, some women, including Mary, the mother of Jesus, and some brothers, that is, probably disciples. Here too, the details are not merely anecdotal; we already knew the names of the apostles from Luke’s Gospel; if he gives us the list again, it is not to instruct us! Luke wishes to highlight the continuity within the community of the apostles: they are the very same who accompanied Jesus throughout his earthly life, and now they are committed to the mission. And they will be able to bear witness to the Resurrection only because they have been witnesses to the life, Passion and death of Jesus. We thus find again the group of people so different from one another whom Jesus had chosen: Peter, James, John and Andrew, fishermen on the Sea of Tiberias; Simon the Zealot—at the time of Jesus’ earthly life, this was not yet a political commitment, but it was already a sign of religious fanaticism. One wonders how he could stand alongside Matthew the tax collector, a tax collector in the pay of the occupying power and, for this reason, barred from worship! Not only did Jesus manage to bring them together around him, but they will now share the responsibility of continuing their Master’s mission. Christian tradition has identified Bartholomew with Nathanael, mentioned by Saint John, who was a specialist in the Law; if this were the case, it would have been a further point of diversity within the group of the Twelve. It is upon this community of men, so different from one another, that the proclamation of the Gospel now rests. A few brief observations: first of all, their group is not closed in on itself, but is already open to others, men and women; secondly, they begin this life of the Church in prayer, ‘devoted and of one accord’, as Luke emphasises. Perhaps the first miracle of the apostles is this praying together as one heart at the moment when the Master leaves them, and they find themselves seemingly left to their own devices and to their differences, which could have turned into divisions. In truth, they are only apparently left to their own devices: Jesus, though now invisible, is not absent. Matthew, in his Gospel, has preserved one of Jesus’ final words: “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.’ The apostles, therefore, do not pray for Jesus to draw near: his presence is assured; they pray to immerse themselves once more in his presence. This account from the Acts of the Apostles becomes for us a powerful lesson in hope: Jesus is with us always, his presence is assured, and the power of the Holy Spirit accompanies us! 

 

Responsorial Psalm (26/27)

This psalm is for those going through difficult times. Believers are not exempt from life’s trials, and faith is no magic wand. Sometimes they suffer precisely because of their faith, as in religious wars or persecutions, or due to the hostility of atheists and the struggle to defend Christian values in a world that does not share them. We shall find an example of this in the Letter of Saint Peter, this Sunday’s second reading. But in their trials, believers know they are not alone, abandoned to their sad fate, for they have someone to turn to: “It is to God that my eyes weep,” said Job (Job 16:20). And they go to seek strength where it is found, that is, in God. “The Lord is my light and my salvation: whom shall I fear?” We do not know to which specific trials this psalm alludes; incidentally, it is much longer than the few verses read here, but the missing verses provide no historical details. Here and there one senses an allusion to external attacks: “The Lord is the bulwark of my life: before whom should I tremble?”. Ever since the great adventure of the Exodus, Israel has been threatened in its very existence on numerous occasions. The first verse, “The Lord is my light and my salvation”, is probably also an allusion to the Exodus under Moses’s leadership: in the Sinai desert, the pillar of cloud lit the way and signified God’s presence. Salvation, then, meant escaping from Pharaoh; in every age, salvation takes different forms, and Israel has experienced all manner of them, evoked through allusions in the psalm. To say “The Lord is the bulwark of my life” brings to mind the long period of wars, and the best bulwark is the strength that God gives us. “If you do not believe, you will not stand firm,” Isaiah said to King Ahaz (Is 7:9). Faith is the only strength that enables us to face everything: “Whom shall I fear?”. This means that God protects us from all fear and that we do not even fear Him. In all trials and sufferings, the believer knows that they can cry out to God: indeed, it is even recommended in the Bible, for groaning, weeping and praying is not cowardly, but simply human, and it is to God that we must groan, weep and pray. “Hear, O Lord, I call upon you,” says the psalm, and of one thing the chosen people are certain: that God hears our cry. Let us think of the great revelation of the Burning Bush: “The cry of the children of Israel has come to me,” God said to Moses (Ex. 3:7–9). And from that day Israel has known that God hears the cry of those who suffer. We read in the psalm: “One thing I have asked of the Lord, this alone I seek: to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life”: like the Levite, admitted into the inner sanctum of the temple in Jerusalem, Israel asks for the grace to dwell in the presence of God. “Have mercy, answer me,” is a beggar’s cry and also a plea for forgiveness, for the expression that follows, “Seek my face,” is a call to conversion; for ever since settling in the Promised Land, the people have faced a new danger: that of unfaithfulness, that is, idolatry. However, when we read “Seek my face”, it is not God who thirsts for our homage and asks something of us for his own sake. God loves us, and all the commandments are for our happiness. St Augustine states: “Everything that man does for God benefits man and not God”. For God, the centre of the world is humanity, and He has no other purpose than our happiness—a happiness we find only when God is at the centre of our lives, for as St Augustine said: “You have made us for Yourself, Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You.” It is interesting to compare Psalm 26/27 with the Canticle of Zechariah, which we sing every morning in the Liturgy of the Hours.

 

 

Second Reading from the First Letter of Saint Peter the Apostle (4:13–16)

In the early days of the Church, as we know from the Acts of the Apostles, the first disciples of Christ did not yet bear this name; they were called ‘Nazarenes’, because of Nazareth, and this name, used by the Jews who refused to recognise Jesus of Nazareth as the Messiah awaited by Israel, was a derogatory term. Later, when Barnabas and Paul were carrying out their mission in Antioch of Syria, it was probably pagans who had not yet converted to the Christian Church who gave Jesus’ disciples the name ‘Christians’, which means ‘of Christ, belonging to Christ’. This new title of ‘Christian’ was not an honour either. The unconverted pagans viewed with suspicion the radical change of life taking place within the community of the baptised. Shortly before, in his letter, Peter writes: ‘They find it strange that you no longer rush with them towards the same torrent of perdition, and they revile you’; ‘They slander you, treating you as evildoers’. Here, Saint Peter speaks of the sufferings—that is, the misunderstanding, the isolation, the slander—of which Jesus was a victim because he continued to proclaim his message without letting anyone stop him, with that fidelity that cost him his life. In turn, the early Christians face the same hostility, and Peter seeks to give them the courage to hold firm whilst awaiting the day when the glory of Christ will be revealed—that is, the day when Jesus will come to inaugurate his kingdom among men. Peter goes even further: not only must one not be ashamed, but on the contrary, the title of ‘Christian’ is, in his eyes, the highest dignity: “Rejoice,” he tells them, because of the name ‘Christian’, which means ‘belonging to Christ’. Furthermore, when he says: “To the extent that you share in the sufferings of Christ, rejoice…” he is speaking of the Beatitudes proclaimed by Jesus: “Blessed are you when they revile you, persecute you and, lying, say all sorts of evil against you on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward in heaven is great!” . And Jesus, in saying this, was describing himself. Now Peter applies this description to those who, in turn, bear the name of Christ. He even says that “you share in the sufferings of Christ”, which means: “rejoice because you are intimately united with Christ in these sufferings you endure to remain faithful to his name and his mission. And since you are united to his sufferings, you will likewise be united to his glory on the day when the truth will burst forth.” It is clear, however, that suffering is not an end in itself, but the goal is to be united to Christ and to God in the Spirit of love, whatever the circumstances—happy or unhappy—may be in our lives. And Peter points to a way of facing persecution for the sake of Christ’s name: “To the extent that you share in the sufferings of Christ, rejoice…”. Here is a proclamation and an encouragement, for the day will come when Christ will be recognised by all, and you along with him; and on that day it will be recognised that you were not mistaken because Christ had deceived you. We therefore need the courage to persevere, for you have chosen the right path. The Book of Acts recounts that after being flogged, Peter and John “left the Sanhedrin, rejoicing that they had been counted worthy to suffer dishonour for the name of Jesus”. Peter was only able to do this after Pentecost: one must be filled with the Spirit of Jesus to have the courage to face persecution in his name and to know that mysterious joy of being in communion with him, even in suffering, that joy which no one can take from us! The Church offers us this text from Peter as we await Pentecost, a special time for rediscovering the role of the Holy Spirit in the life of our communities. 

 

From the Gospel according to John (17:1b-11a)

These final words of Jesus: “I am coming to you” mysteriously draw us into Jesus’ prayer at the very moment he is about to reach the Father: “I am coming to you”. It is the Hour of the great passage: “Father, the hour has come”, that Hour of which he spoke many times during his earthly life, that Hour which he seemed both to desire and to fear. It is the decisive Hour, central to all human history, the Hour which all creation awaits as a birth: for it is the Hour of the fulfilment of God’s plan. From now on, nothing will ever be the same again. In this decisive Hour, the mystery of the Father will finally be revealed to the world: this is why Jesus repeatedly uses the words “glory” and “glorify”. A person’s glory, in the biblical sense, is not their fame or the recognition of others; it is their true worth. The glory of God is therefore God Himself, who reveals Himself to mankind in all the splendour of His holiness. The verb ‘to glorify’ can be replaced with ‘to reveal’. In this decisive Hour, God will be glorified, revealed in the Son, and believers will finally ‘know’ the Father; they will enter into that intimacy which unites the Son to the Father, and which the Son communicates to mankind. Those who accept this revelation and believe in Jesus will enter into this intimacy with the Father: they will enter into true life: “Eternal life is that they may know you, the one true God, and the one whom you have sent, Jesus Christ”. Here, from the very mouth of Jesus, is a definition of eternal life: Jesus speaks in the present tense and describes eternal life as the state of those who know God and Christ. We already live this life from the moment of our Baptism. Speaking of his disciples, Jesus says: “They have truly known that I came from you, and they have believed that you sent me.”  At that moment, only a portion of humanity received this revelation and entered into the communion of love offered by the Father, accepting to take the path opened by the Son; and it is for these few alone that Jesus prays: “I pray for them; I do not pray for the world, but for those whom you have given me…” It is the mystery of God’s choices that is repeated: just as the Father had chosen Abraham to reveal his great plan to him, he chose certain members of Abraham’s lineage to bring the revelation of his mystery to fulfilment: “I have made your name known to the people you have given me from the world. They were yours, and you gave them to me, and they have kept your word. Now they know that everything you have given me comes from you…” . For this small chosen people, the hour has come to continue the work of revelation: “I am no longer in the world; they, however, are in the world, and I am coming to you.” Jesus passes the baton to us in a way: he has given us everything; now it is up to us to give it to others. We must let Jesus’ insistence on the word “give” resound within us: the Father has given authority to the Son… the Son will give eternal life to mankind… the Father has given mankind to the Son… the Father has given his words to the Son… and the Son has given these words to his brothers. Jesus’ emphasis on the verb ‘to give’ permeates the entire biblical meditation: our relationship with God is not a matter of calculation. It is enough for us to allow ourselves to be loved and continually filled with his grace. The word ‘grace’ means a free gift. The logic of the gift, of gratuitousness, is that of the Son who lives eternally in a dialogue of love with the Father. In the prologue to his Gospel, John says that the Son is eternally ‘turned towards the Father’ (Jn 1:18) (“No one has ever seen God; the only Son, who is in the Father’s bosom, he has made him known.” The expression “in the Father’s bosom” (from the Greek eis ton kolpon tou Patros) is interpreted as: “turned towards the Father”, “in intimate communion with the Father”, “in the Father’s intimacy”. Thus the idea that the Son is eternally “turned towards the Father” arises from this verse, even though the expression “turned towards the Father” is a theological paraphrase, not a literal quotation. And since there is no shadow between them, he reflects the Father’s glory: “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father”. Between them, everything is love, dialogue, sharing: “All that is mine is yours, and all that is yours is mine”. The Prologue of John’s Gospel is illuminated by the reading of this prayer of Jesus; it is, as it were, its transposition (Jn 1:1–18).

 

+Giovanni D’Ercole

Real life in Jesus - condemned for living against the tide

(Jn 17:11b-19)

 

In Asia Minor, fraternities of the sons of God were easily targeted - harmless, yet considered a bombshell for that system.

World that did not want any alternative truth to enter its social and cultural imaginary.

Introduced in the death-resurrection of Christ, the communities of Faith were living as one big family, united in charity and mutual understanding - not according to already configured social obligations.

In the churches, the warmth of fraternal relationships could be perceived: a nucleus of alternative society to that of the empire, which on the horizon of its well-run universe excluded the access of the humble and needy.

Faith was playing on the edge.

In this context, Jesus asks the Father for an intimate custody of believers, consecrated in Him (vv.11-13.17.19)... not to remove them from tribulation, but for evangelization.

By proceeding the path of Exodus in His own intimates, and immersing Himself in the situations, his Person, Word, and affair prolonged the Gesuan act of the consecration of the world [according to Semitic categories].

Not a kind of protection of sisters and brothers, in the manner of a pagan deity, but to live the fullness of the Beatitudes.

All of this, within the framework of deep discernment, and capacity for incisive action - induced by the fraternal atmosphere and the sense of divine approval, with no more external diktats.

It was the "power" of the «Name» (vv.11-12): the reality of the new Face of the Most High, as revealed in the problematic story of the Son.

Primordial, intimate and empathic Energy, which in the same glorious and paradoxical terms invested the disciples, the called to manifest the divine condition; the becomed ones ‘as Christ’.

Even in the face of hardship, mockery and repulsion of others, in the mutual love lived in community, in the conviviality of the differences of faithful and assemblies, God's therapy and revival was manifested.

The Father revealed Himself unforeseeable love, precisely in the manifestation of this ‘Unity’.

But even Jesus' presence failed to protect Judas from self-destruction.

His case is a special result, precisely because he did not trust in love and the Word of the Life.

Victim of conditioning and calculation by false external guides.

This explains the exclusion of the «world» from Jesus' prayer (v.9).

 

Jesus promises a counter joy: genuine happiness, the gladness of radical 'differences'.

Not the cheerfulness guaranteed by the opulent and dispersive environment of the cosmopolitan emporium of reference in Jn: Ephesus [especially the harbour and the Artemision].

Christ did not wish to ensure the hilar frenzy of a religiosity contaminated by ambivalence and profit.

«Keeping in the Name» (v.11) should have been: having access to the Father, in the Son; precisely in the Gratis and raw experience of the carpenter's son, so harassed by the authorities.

In Him - by radiating his eccentricity, transparency, and selflessness - to build Unity.

Only in the awareness of this intimate seed pearls and concatenation could disciples devote their lives to witnessing Other beliefs - even in a climate of social intimidation.

 

Jesus turned his concern into prayer.

 

 

[Wednesday 7th wk. in Easter, May 20, 2026]

Real life in Jesus - the condemned for living against the tide

(Jn 17:11-19)

 

«Holy Father keep them in your Name which you have given me, that they may be One as we are» (Jn 17:11b).

At a time when intermediate social classes were coming to the fore, in a disenchanted environment such as capital Rome, Domitian also attributed himself divine titles in an attempt to stem the conspiracies of the envious senatorial aristocracy that had always been conservative, vain and scheming.

In the East - due to cultural issues - the deification of the emperor was taken more seriously, both by officials and the army ranks, as well as by the religious and social imagery of the crowds, who by mystery custom tended to identify power with sacred connubi.

For these reasons, fraternities of God's children were easily targeted in Asia Minor - harmless, yet considered a bombshell for that system, which did not want any alternative truth to enter its world.

Immersed in the death-resurrection of Christ, the communities of Faith lived as one big family, united in charity and mutual understanding - not according to already configured social obligations.

In the churches, the warmth of fraternal relationships was perceived: a nucleus of an alternative society to that of the empire, which on the horizon of its well-managed universe excluded the access of the humble and needy.

Faith played to the limit.

Thus Jesus asks the Father for an intimate custody of believers, consecrated in Him (vv.11-13.17.19)... not to remove them from tribulation, but for evangelisation.

Proceeding the path of exodus in his own and immersing himself in the situations, his Person, Word and affair prolonged the Jesuit act of consecrating the world according to Semitic categories.

Not a kind of protection of sisters and brothers, in the manner of a pagan deity, but to live the fullness of the Beatitudes.

All this, within the arc of profound discernment, and capacity for incisive action - induced by the fraternal climate and the sense of divine approval, with no more external diktats.

It was the 'power' of the 'Name' (vv.11-12): the reality of the new Face of the Most High, as revealed in the problematic story of the Son.

Primordial, intimate and empathic energy, which in the same terms - glorious and paradoxical - invested the disciples, those called to manifest the divine condition, becoming like Christ.

Even in the face of the hardships, mockeries and repulses of others, in the mutual love lived in community, in the conviviality of the differences of believers and churches, God's therapy and revival was manifested.

The Father was revealing unforeseeable love, precisely in the manifestation of this unity.

 

But even Jesus' presence failed to protect Judas from self-destruction.

His case is a special result, precisely because he did not trust in love and the Word of Life. Victim of influence and calculation of false external guides.

This explains the exclusion of the 'world' from Jesus' prayer (v.9).

In a closed environment, marked by the combination of 'power religion interest', one cannot be a humanising sign.

Without a life-wave, one cannot experience the sense of the Mystery in the vertigo of sharing, nor any teaching.

Sisters and brother friends must always have the grace to be freed from the world of conformist duties, which sometimes take over.

In this: "sanctified in truth" - for the mission rediscovers the density, internal rhythm and cascading effect of lived reciprocity.

In Jn, such a clear icon of the Lord is pressing in.

In his farewell, he does not demand that anyone kneel before him; rather, he dreams of a spirit of unity between disciples, and - indeed - churches.

It was the only attitude that could make it possible to resist the attacks, marginalisation and flattery of the Roman-Hellenistic world, in particular of Ephesus, the fourth city of the empire.

Jesus promises a counter joy: genuine happiness, of radical 'differences'.

Not the joy guaranteed by the opulent and dispersive environment (especially the port) of the cosmopolitan emporium of reference.

Christ did not wish to ensure the hilarious frenzy of a religiosity contaminated by ambivalences and turncoats.

In this regard, think of the great commerce guaranteed by the Artemision, and many other eminent, spectacular sacred sites, rooted in the urban layout and fabric of city life.

The ideal of the Risen One had to ferment in everyone's heart, even at that ambiguous and worldly point; not... escape into an unreachable tomorrow.

A bond that had its mirror in the intensity of the Father-Son relationship and in the dignity of the shaky and outcast who opened themselves to the Action of the Spirit.

As if to say: what was passed off as venerable had no human-divine foundation.The only sacred sphere had to be the Person and the respect for the profound, dissimilar Truth, proper to the intimate seed of the children; the one without any make-up.

"To 'keep in the Name' was thus to have access to the Father, in the Son. In Him - radiating his eccentricity, transparency and selflessness - build Unity.

Only in the awareness of this connection could the disciples dedicate their lives to witnessing other convictions - even in a climate of social intimidation.

 

Jesus turned his concern into prayer.

 

 

To internalise and live the message:

 

What do you think of a Jesus condemned for living against the tide? What is the soul and the foundation that you see reflected in the Son? How do you open yourself to the holiness of God? How do you launch yourself into the world? What do you pray for?

1. "For their sake I consecrate myself, that they also may be consecrated in truth" (Jn 17:19).

Dear brothers and sisters, today, in the liturgy of this Sunday after the Ascension of the Lord, the Church proclaims the words of Christ's priestly prayer. In the midst of the apostles gathered in prayer in the Upper Room with Mary, the Mother of Christ, these words resound with an echo that is still relevant today. Christ pronounced these words very recently, in his farewell discourse on the evening of Holy Thursday, before entering into the passion.

He then turned to the Father, like so many other times, but in an entirely new way. He asked: "Holy Father, keep in thy name those whom thou hast given me, that they may be one, as we . . . Guard them . . . as I have kept them, as I have watched over them . . . but now I come to you . . I leave the world . . . I ask not that you take them out of the world but that you guard them from the Evil One . . Consecrate them in truth. Your word is truth . . . Those I have sent into the world, as thou hast sent into the world me. For them I consecrate myself, that they also may be consecrated in the truth" (Jn 17:11 ff.).

2. Here is the great prayer of Christ's heart. Today, it is spoken in this liturgy that we celebrate in the centre of your country, at the foot of the Basilica of the Sacred Heart. This is the language of the Redeemer's heart. Here we find expressed the most profound characteristics that marked his whole life, his whole messianic mission. Here comes the moment when this life and this mission come to their end and at the same time reach their climax.

The climax is this: "I consecrate myself". It is a mysterious, profound word, which in a certain sense is equivalent to saying: "I sanctify myself", "I give myself totally to the Father", or even "I sacrifice myself", "I offer my person, my life as a holy offering to God for mankind and, in so doing, they pass from this world to my Father". It is the supreme and definitive word, and at the same time the most elevated word in the dialogue between the figure and the Father. Through this sentence he places, in a certain sense, the messianic seal on the whole work of redemption.

At the same time, in this 'I consecrate myself' the apostles are included; the whole Church is included in it, until the end of time. And so do all of us who are gathered here in front of the Basilica of the Sacred Heart. In the words of the priestly prayer, the Church is born from the consecration of the Son to the Father, only to be born later on the cross when these words 'become incarnate', when this heart is pierced by the spear of the Roman centurion.

3. Qu'est-ce que Jésus demande pour ses Apôtres, pour l'Eglise, pour nous? Que nous soyons nous aussi consacrés dans la vérité. This Truth is the Word of the living God. Le Verbe du Père, le Fils. Et c'est aussi la parole du Père à travers le Fils. Le Verbe s'est fait chair, puis s'est exprimé, au milieu du monde. Au milieu de l'histoire de l'humanité.

Et en même temps, lui, le Christ, le Verbe incarné, "n'est pas du monde" (Cf. Io. 17, 14), La Parole qu'il a transmise du Père, la Bonne Nouvelle, l'Evangile, n'est pas du monde. Et ceux qui acceptent entièrement cette Parole peuvent facilement attirer sur eux la haine, par le fait de ne pas être du monde.

Et pourtant, seule cette Parole est Vérité. C'est la vérité ultime. C'est la plénitude de la vérité. Elle tait participer à la Vérité dont vit Dieu lui-même.

A travers l'expression pathétique de la prière sacerdotale, à travers la profonde émotion du Cœur du Christ, l'Eglise a conscience, une fois pour toutes, que seule cette Vérité est salvatrice, qu'il ne lui est permis, à aucune condition, de changer cette Vérité pour quelque autre que ce soit, de la confondre avec quelque autre, même si, humainement, elle semblait plus "vraisemblable", plus suggestive, plus adaptée à la mentalité du jour.

Par le cri du Cœur de Jésus au Cénacle et par la Croix qui l'a confirmé, l'Eglise se sent affirmie dans cette Vérité: consacrée dans la Vérité.

La prière sacerdotale est en même temps une grande "supplication" de l'Eglise. L'Apôtre Paul la reprendra en écrivant à Timothée: "Garde le dépôt" (depositum custodi) (1 Tim. 6, 20), ou encore: "Nevous modelez pas sur le monde présent" (nolite conformari huic saeculo) (Rom. 12, 2), autrement dit, ne devenez pas semblables à ce qui est transitoire, à ce que le monde proclame.

3. What does Jesus ask for his apostles, for the Church, for us? May we also be consecrated in the truth. This truth is the Word of the living God. The Word of the Father, the Son. And it is also the word of the Father through the Son: the Word became flesh, then was expressed, in the bosom of the world. In terms of the history of humanity.

At the same time he, Christ, the Word incarnate, "is not of the world" (cf. John 17: 14). The word that he transmitted from the Father, the good news, the gospel, is not of the world. And those who accept this word entirely can easily draw hatred upon themselves, for they are not of the world. And yet, this word alone is truth. He is the supreme truth. He is the fullness of truth. It partakes of that truth of which God himself lives.

Through the passionate expression of the priestly prayer, through the profound emotion of the heart of Christ, the Church is aware, once and for all, that only this truth is salvific, that she is not allowed, under any conditions, to change this truth in favour of any other, to confuse it with any other, even if, humanly speaking, it should seem more plausible, more suggestive, more suited to today's mentality. Through the cry of Jesus' heart in the Upper Room and through the cross that confirmed it, the Church feels consolidated in this truth: consecrated in truth.

The priestly prayer is at the same time a great "supplication" of the Church. The Apostle Paul took it up again when he wrote to Timothy: "Guard the deposit . . ." (1 Tim 6:20), or again: "Do not be conformed to the mentality of this age" (Rom 12:2), in other words, do not become similar to what is transitory, to what the world proclaims.

4. Telle est la grande prière du Cœur du Rédempteur. Elle explique tout le dessein de la Rédemption et la Rédemption trouve en elle son explication.

What does the Son ask of the Father? "Keep my disciples faithful to your name, which you have shared with me, that they may be one, as we are one" (Io. 17, 11).

L'Eglise naît de cette prière du Cœur de Jésus avec la marque de l'Unité divine. Pas seulement de l'unité humaine, sociologique, mais de l'Unité divine "pour qui'ls soient un comme nous" (Ibid. 17, 22), "Comme toi, Père, tu es en moi et moi en toi" (Ibid. 17, 21). This unity is the fruit of love.

"Si nous nous aimons les uns les autres, Dieu demeure en nous . . .". Nous reconnaissons que nous demeurons en lui et lui en nous, à ce qu'il nous donne part à son Esprit . . . Dieu est amour: "Celui qui demeure dans l'amour demeure en Dieu, et Dieu en lui" (1 Io. 4, 12-13. 16).

Il s'agit donc de l'unité qui a son origine en Dieu. L'Unité qui est en Dieu est la vie du Père dans le Fils et la vie du Fils dans le Père, dans l'unité de l'Esprit Saint. L'unité en laquelle Dieu un et trine se communique dans l'Esprit Saint aux cœurs humains, aux consciences humaines, aux communautés humaines.

Cette unité doit être vécue, concrètement, au niveau de chaque famille chrétienne, de chaque communauté ecclésiale, de chaque Eglise locale, de l'Eglise universelle, comme un reflet du mystère de l'unité en Dieu.

Cette unité stimule aussi l'esprit communautaire dans la communauté mondiale.

4. Such is the great prayer of the Redeemer's heart. It explains the whole design of redemption and redemption finds its own explanation in it. What does the Son ask of the Father? "Keep in thy name those whom thou hast given me, that they may be one, as we are one" (Jn 17:11). From this prayer of the heart of Jesus the Church is born with the sign of divine unity. Not only of human, sociological unity, but of divine unity "that they may be as we are one" (Jn 17:22). "As you, Father, are in me and I in you" (Jn 17:21). This unity is the fruit of love. "If we love one another, God abides in that we abide in him and he in us: he has given us the gift of his Spirit . . . God is love; he who abides in love abides in God and God abides in him" (1 Jn 4:12-13. 16).

It is therefore the unity that has its origin in God. The unity that is in God is the life of the Father in the Son and the life of the Son in the Father, in the unity of the Holy Spirit. The unity in which the triune God communicates himself in the Holy Spirit to human hearts, human consciences, human communities. This unity must be lived out concretely, at the level of every Christian family, every ecclesial community, every local Church, the universal Church, as a reflection of the mystery of God's unity. This unity also stimulates the community spirit in society, in the nation, in the world community.

5. "Let them be one, as we are"! The unity inherited from Christ finds its first realisation in marriage and in the family, in that Church which is the home.

Such is the Creator's design from the beginning: 'Man shall cleave to his wife, and the two shall be one flesh' (Gen 2:24). Such is likewise the destiny of men and women redeemed by Jesus Christ: the sacramental union of spouses becomes the sign of Christ's total love for his Church, of his indissoluble union with it. "This mystery is great" (cf. Eph 5:32). This mutual gift of spouses for life will be inspired by a human love that is total, faithful, exclusive and open to new life (cf. Humanae vitae, 9). Christian spouses will always take it to heart to meditate on God's plan for marriage and the family and to correspond to what God expects of them in their interpersonal relationships, in the transmission of life, in conjugal chastity, in the education of their children, and in their participation in the development of society according to the doctrine of the Church, which I reminded them of in the apostolic exhortation Familiaris consortio, echoing what the bishops of the whole world had expressed in the 1980 Synod.

I am therefore happy to address myself especially to you, dear spouses and parents who have come to this Eucharist as a family. You know, both through the teaching of the Church and from your own experience, all that is required by the daily renewal of your conjugal and parental love. It acquires, in feelings and actions, a concrete face every day, in which the flesh is the support and expression of unity in the spirit; it presupposes in particular a sensitive attention to the other, an attitude of gratitude for what he is and what he brings to you, a willingness to let what is best in you blossom in him, sharing joys and trials by ceaselessly banishing selfishness and pride, taking time for a sincere dialogue on all that is dear to you, sharing the daily "bread", and, if necessary, forgiveness, as we ask in the "Our Father". In these conditions, your love fills you with joy and shines in your home and beyond.

Above all, never forget that your unity, your fidelity, the splendour of your love are graces that come from God, from the bosom of the Trinity. The sacrament of marriage enables you to draw on it constantly. But it is necessary that you often ask God, who is love, to help you dwell in love (cf. 1 John 4:16). What strength, what testimony, when you have the simplicity to pray as a family, parents and children! Together, before the Father, before the Saviour, your whole life can regain brightness and joy. Then, truly, the family deserves its name of domestic Church.

6. "Father, keep them in your name"! This prayer of Jesus for the disciples, is it not that of parents for their children?

Your deep love between spouses, "in truth", and your common love for your children constitute for them the first book in which they read the love of God.

This reading remains forever inscribed in the memory of their hearts and disposes them to accept, freely, the revelation of God's tenderness. Of course, in our day, family solidarity is not always an easy task. The children whom you have called to life and to whom you have given the best of yourselves, influenced by a society that has its values and its dis-values, sometimes choose other paths, hopefully for a short time. They are, for you, moments of suffering but also of deep devotion. With you, I pray as Jesus did: "I do not ask that you take them out of the world, but that you keep them from the evil one" (Jn 17:15).

Christian families remain a privileged space for the transmission of the Gospel, not only to their children, but to their neighbours, to the whole Church community. They can offer a hospitable home to those with worries, to children who do not receive enough love at home, to young people who wish to deepen their faith in preparation for confirmation or marriage. In Christian families, young people also learn through the example of their parents to be committed to others, both in the parish and in other places.

Dear parents, the way in which Peter proposes, in the first reading of this service, to choose a new "witness to the resurrection of Jesus", a new apostle (Acts 1:22) has perhaps struck you. This choice was prepared by prayer: "You, Lord, who know the hearts of all, show us which of these two you have appointed" (Acts 1:24).

The Lord knows the hearts of the young people of this time. He also knows their generosity, sometimes held back by adults. You also know the hearts of your children. Pray that they may discover their vocation and be thankful if they choose the way of the Gospel!

And you, dear children, the most beautiful thing you can ask of your parents is what the apostles asked of Jesus: "Teach us to pray". On the other hand, be happy if your parents do much for others, even if their commitment deprives you, some evenings, of their presence at home. You yourselves always try to be more fraternal among yourselves, in the family. And try to already make your life a service for others. This word of Jesus is also for you: "As the Father sent me into the world, I also sent you into the world".

7. "Quils soient un comme nous sommes un" (Io. 17, 11).Au-delà de la famille, cette prière de Jésus vaut pour toutes les communautés de ses disciples, partout où elles se réalisent, pour vos communautés paroissiales, pour vos mouvements chrétiens largement représentés ici. Puisse-t-on y trouver toujours l'unité héritée du Christ! La fidélité à sa Vérité! L'accueil fraternel et le soutien effectif des membres qui sont dans le besoin, étrangers ou malades.

Je salue ici avec une particulière affection les malades et les handicapés, spécialement ceux qui participaient hier aux "Spartakiades".

Chers Frères et Sœurs,

pour vous - comme pour vos familles et pour tous ceux qui n'ont pas pu être présents ici à cause de l'âge ou de la maladie -, je demande à Dieu, non seulement de vous garder en son Nom, mais de faire de vous, en ce monde, partout où vous conduisent vos relations et votre travail professionnel, les témoins de sa Vérité, de son amour. Pour donner un témoignage direct sur le Christ Sauveur, sur sa Bonne Nouvelle, de façon à faciliter à vos contemporains l'accès à la foi. Et pour contribuer, avec eux, à mettre votre société sur les chemins de la paix, de la justice, de la fidélité, de la fraternité, qui correspondent au Règne de Dieu.

7. "That they may be one, as we are one" (Jn 17:11). Beyond the family, this prayer of Jesus applies to all the communities of his disciples, wherever they are made, to your parish communities, to your Christian movements widely represented here. Vi si possa sempre trovare l'unità ereditata da Cristo! Fidelity to his truth! The fraternal welcome and effective support of people who are in need, foreigners or sick. I greet here with particular affection the sick and handicapped, especially those who participated yesterday in the "Spartakiadi".

Dear brothers and sisters, for you - as for your families and for all those who have been unable to be here because of age or illness - I ask God, not only to keep you in his name, but also to make you, in this world, wherever your social relationships and your professional work take you, Witnesses of his truth, of his love, to bear direct witness to Christ the Saviour, to his good news, so as to facilitate your contemporaries' access to the faith and to help, with them, to set your society on the paths of peace, justice, piety, fraternity, which correspond to the kingdom of God.

8. L'unité héritée des Apôtres, c'est celle de l'Eglise universelle, confiée aux évêques en communion étroite avec le successeur de Pierre. Elle est présente en chacune des Eglises locales, à commencer par la vénérable Eglise qui est à Malines-Bruxelles, Mechelen-Brussel, celle qui est à Antwerpen, à Brugge, à Gent, à Liège, à Namur, que je suis heureux de visiter aussi.

I would particularly like to greet the faithful who have come from the dioceses of Tournai and Hasselt. Le temps nécessairement limité de mon séjour dans votre pays ne me permet pas de vous rencontrer dans vos diocèses mêmes. Mais je vous remercie d'être venus ici en grand nombre pour me rencontrer.

Chers chrétiens du diocèse de Tournai, vous appartenez à un diocèse d'une tradition très riche. Aujourd'hui, vous essayez d'être des témoins fidèles de l'Evangile dans une période difficile. Vous vivez dans une des provinces belges les plus touchées par la crise économique. Comme chrétiens pratiquants, vous êtes souvent une minorité au milieu de beaucoup d'autres personnes que vous aimez et que vous voulez servir. Dans cette situation, je vous encourage à garder la paix et la joie. Car, comme le dit la devise de votre évêque, "la joie du Seigneur, c'est notre force".

8. The unity inherited from the apostles is that of the universal Church, entrusted to the bishops in close communion with the successor of Peter. It is present in Bruges, in Ghent, in Liège, in Namur, which I am happy to visit.

I greet in a special way the faithful who have come from the dioceses of Tournai and Hasselt. The necessarily limited time of my stay in your country does not allow me to meet with you in your dioceses. I thank you, however, for coming here in great numbers to meet with me.

Dear Christians of the Diocese of Tournai, you belong to a diocese with a very rich tradition. Today you are trying to be faithful witnesses of the Gospel in a difficult time. You live in one of the provinces of Belgium most affected by the economic crisis. As practising Christians, you are often a minority among many others whom you love and wish to serve. In this situation, I encourage you to preserve peace and joy, for, as your bishop's motto says, 'the joy of the Lord is our strength'.

Dear Christians of the Diocese of Hasselt, you seek to deepen the faith in your community by means of many pastoral initiatives. There are many young people in your diocese. Thanks to the training received in their movements and spirituality groups, they try to be witnesses of the Gospel wherever they live. Show solidarity in the economic crisis that is hitting you so hard. Continue to develop dialogue between the cultures of natives and immigrants in your diocese. And may the Blessed Virgin, "the reason for our joy", venerated at Tongres, the oldest place of Marian veneration in northern Europe, be for each of you a source of continuous joy!

Yes, in the name of Jesus, I repeat his priestly prayer for each of your Churches, for its bishop, the pastor whose task it is to gather it together in unity, to watch over it as Jesus did over his disciples, to preserve it in fidelity to the name of the Lord, in fidelity to the apostolic tradition, in union with the Apostolic See of Rome, to make it move forward in the love that comes from God.

9. In this place, which is the capital of the country, how can we not think of the Belgian nation as a whole? This land in which you live has had a turbulent history; it has had to struggle to preserve its cultural, economic, administrative, political and even religious personality. The rich personality of this nation and its availability have often been a source of cultural, artistic and economic exchanges with all the countries around it. Do not lose your rich personality, your communion in peace, mutual esteem and dialogue between the different Belgian and foreign communities. Be aware: the things that unite you are more than those that divide you. Cultivate this model of coexistence that can be an example to the world. Found it on love, on respect for the institutions of the nation, its governments and king, in fidelity to the Christian civilisation that has marked you so much.

10. Zusammen mit dem Nachfolger des heiligen Petrus betet die Kirche dieses Landes heute mit den Worten des Psalms:

"Lobe den Herrn meine Seele und alles in mir seinen heiligen Namen!" (Ps. 103:1).

Der Name Gottes ist uns in seiner Fülle durch Jesus Christus offenbart worden. Er ist "unser Vater": Gott, der die Liebe ist, der uns zuerst geliebt hat, der am Anfang wie am Ziel unseres Lebens steht, der uns auf dem Weg ständig begleitet, auch dort, wo das Leben hart mit uns umgeht, auch dann, wenn wir nicht nach dem Maß seiner Liebe gelebt haben; Gott, der uns an seinem göttlichen Leben teilhaben läßt, der uns mit der Freude Christi erfüllt, seines vielgeliebten Sohnes (Cf. I. 17, 13).

Ja, "Vater unser im Himmel, geheiligt werde dein Name, dein Reich komme, dein Wille geschehe . . .!".

Das Gebet, das uns Jesus Christus selbst gelehrt hat, ist tief im Hohenpriesterlichen Gebet des Abendmahlssaales verwurzelt.

"Lobe den Herrn meine Seele, und vergiß nicht, was er dir Guten getan hat" (Ps. 103, 27).

Vergiß es nicht!

Liebe Mitchristen deutscher Sprache, vergeßt nicht das Erbe so vieler Generationen des Bundes mit Gott in der Kirche Christi, vergeßt es nicht!

Chers chrétiens d'expression française, n'oubliez pas l'héritage de tant de générations de l'Alliance avec Dieu dans l'Eglise du Christ, n'oubliez pas!

10. Today, the Church in this country prays together with the successor of Peter in the words of the psalm: "Bless the Lord, my soul, what is in me bless his holy name" (Ps 103:1). The name of God has been revealed to us in the fullness of Jesus Christ: it is "Our Father": God who is love, who was the first to love us, who is at the origin of our life, at its horizon, is continually on the way with us, even if life hurts us, even if we have not lived up to his love; God who makes us share in his divine life, who makes us have the fullness of the joy of Christ, his beloved Son (cf. Jn 17:13).

Yes, our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done . . .! The prayer that Jesus Christ taught us is deeply rooted in the priestly prayer of the Upper Room. "Bless the Lord, my soul, do not forget so many of his benefits" (Ps 103:2). Do not forget!

Dear German-speaking Christians, do not forget the heritage of so many generations of God's covenant with the Church of Christ!

Dear Flemish-speaking Christians, do not forget the heritage of so many generations of the covenant with God in the Church of Christ!

Dear French-speaking Christians, do not forget the heritage of so many generations of the covenant with God in the Church of Christ, do not forget!

[Pope John Paul II, homily in Brussels 19 May 1985]

In recent catecheses, we have tried to highlight the nature and the beauty of the Church and we have asked ourselves what it means for each of us to belong to this people, the People of God, which is the Church. We must not forget, however, that there are so many brothers and sisters who share with us the faith in Christ, but who belong to other confessions or to traditions different from ours. Many have resigned themselves to this division — even within our Catholic Church many are resigned — which, in the course of history, has often been the cause of conflict and of suffering, also of war and this is a disgrace! Today too, relations are not always characterized by respect and courtesy.... But, I wonder: we, how do we feel about all this? Are we too, resigned, if not actually indifferent, to this division? Or do we firmly believe that one can and must walk in the direction of reconciliation and of full communion? Full communion, that is, for everyone to be able to partake together in the Body and Blood of Christ.

Divisions among Christians, while they wound the Church, wound Christ; and divided, we cause a wound to Christ: the Church is indeed the body of which Christ is the Head. We know well how much Jesus had at heart that his disciples should remain united in his love. It suffices to consider his words, written in the 17th Chapter of the Gospel according to John, in Jesus’ prayer to the Father when his passion was imminent: “Holy Father, keep them in thy name, which thou hast given me, that they may be one, even as we are one” (Jn 17:11). This unity was already threatened while Jesus was still among them: in the Gospel, in fact, it is recorded that the Apostles argued among themselves about who was the greatest, the most important (cf. Lk 9:46). The Lord, however, emphatically insisted on unity in the name of the Father, allowing us to understand how much more credible our proclamation and our witness will be if we are first able to live in communion and to love each other. That is what his Apostles, with the grace of the Holy Spirit, would then deeply understand and take to heart, so much so that St Paul would reach the point of imploring the community of Corinth with these words: “I appeal to you, brethren, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you agree and that there be no dissensions among you, but that you be united in the same mind and the same judgment” (1 Cor 1:10).

During her journey in history, the Church has been tempted by the Evil One, who seeks to divide her, and unfortunately it has been marked by deep and painful schisms. They are divisions that at times, have been long and drawn out in time, up until today, which is why it is now difficult to reconstruct all the motivations and especially to find possible solutions. The reasons which have led to the fractures and schisms may be the most diverse: from disagreement on dogmatic and moral principles and on theological concepts and pastoral differences, to political motives and convenience, to disputes caused by dislikes and personal ambition.... What is certain is that, in one way or another, arrogance and selfishness have always been behind these lacerations, rendering us intolerant, incapable of listening and accepting one with a vision or a position different from ours.

Now, faced by all of this, is there something that every one of us, as members of the Holy Mother Church, can and must do? Certainly, there must never be a shortage of prayer, in continuity and in communion with that of Jesus, prayer for the unity of Christians. And together with prayer, the Lord asks us for renewed openness: He asks us not to be closed to dialogue and to encounter, but to welcome all that is valid and positive which is offered even by someone who thinks differently from us or who takes a different stand. He asks us not to fix our gaze on what divides us, but rather on what unites us, seeking to know and love Jesus better and to share the richness of his love. And this means a concrete adherence to the Truth, together with the capacity for reciprocal forgiveness, to feel a part of the same Christian family, to consider oneself a gift for the other and together to do many good things and works of charity.

It is grievous but there are divisions, there are many divided Christians, we have split amongst ourselves. But we all have something in common: we all believe in Jesus Christ, the Lord. We all believe in the Father, in the Son, and in the Holy Spirit, and we all walk together, we are on the journey. Let us help one another! You think this way, you think that way.... In all communities there are good theologians: let them debate, let them seek theological truth because it is a duty, but let us walk together, praying for one another and doing works of charity. And like this, we are in communion on the journey. This is called spiritual ecumenism: to journey on the path of life, everyone together in our faith, in Jesus Christ the Lord. They say that one should not talk about personal things, but I cannot resist the temptation. We are speaking about communion... communion among us. And today, I am so thankful to the Lord because 70 years ago today, I made my First Communion. To make our First Communion we must know what it means to enter into communion with others, in communion with the brothers and sisters of our Church, but also in communion with those who belong to different communities but who believe in Jesus. Let us thank the Lord for our Baptism, let us thank the Lord for our communion, in order that this communion become joint communion with everyone, together.

Dear friends, let us therefore proceed toward full unity! History has separated us, but we are on the path toward reconciliation and communion! And this is true! And we must defend it! We are all on the path toward communion. And when the goal seems too distant, almost unreachable, and we feel gripped by despair, let us be comforted by the idea that God cannot close his ears to the voice of his Son Jesus or fail to grant his and our prayer: that all Christians may truly be one.

[Pope Francis, General Audience 8 October 2014]

(Jn 17:1-11a)

 

Even in the fourth Gospel the Last Supper is followed by Jesus’ prayer, but unlike the Synoptics, Jn places it in the same Upper Room.

In the narrative of the first three Gospels, several notes tell of the Lord's intimate repugnance to the Cross - from which, however, He does not shy away, from which He does not allow himself to be overcome.

Here He only asks the Father for the indestructible quality of the Life of the Eternal in favour of his own, who have already come to know the intimacy of God: it opens up every reverberation.

To acknowledge the Son of Man as Lord is to accept a new form of existence in the Spirit.

Like a Wind that [regenerating us from within] makes itself the medium and continuer of the work of creation.

We are witnesses to a founding, glorious Relationship, that is of such value that it reactivates all destiny - beyond concatenations.

Such a platform overcomes the sense of unworthiness.

On it, here we are enabled to become passionate ‘inventors of roads’ everywhere.

Introduced into a Communion which is already here and now «Life of the Eternal» (vv.2-3). It comes from the ‘knowing’ the Father and the Son.

And it is concentrated in an Hour (v.1): an allusion that had run through the entire fourth Gospel.

Jesus' existence converges in the fruitful rawness of that point, which gives depth to everything.

 

The text differs from previous catecheses in that it is more amicable than teaching.

The Master retraces his story as a commitment to manifest the Father, to make us become signs of his Face.

Christ understands that the children are subject to seductions, and they risk losing the meaning of the believing in Him. Indeed, they still find it difficult to understand that Glory is not the fruit of worldly victory.

«Glory» in Jn stands for the manifestation of the Face of Eternal Love in the raising of the Cross.

Presence of the God-With - unveiling of His confidence, understanding, tenderness, recovery of opposing sides.

In this way, Glory of the Risen One is not a Relationship that remains closed in Heaven, between Father and Son.

The latter has given his intimates the «Name» (vv.6.11) i.e. revealed the Father and given access to his real Person - including the struggles undertaken.

Person who feeds us with the Word, and the sense of His events.

Such an unmistakable Voice reminds that every travail can lead us deeper with Jesus into the Glory and eternity of the Father.

God's intimate life is intensity of understanding; reciprocity that flows into expanded, open, fervent union, tending to transmute every tribulation into an appeal to new kabôd-glory.

It is about the specific [qualitative] weight that the believer assumes in a Heaven also perceivable by the senses.

 

Any difficulty, anguish, insecurity, now even becomes a point to converge on.

Like the Lord, the disciples do not go to death, but to the Way of complete Life that annihilates distance.

All this through a unity that deflects habits and puts one in touch with the energies of the intimate primordial bond, source-and-culmination, Father-Son.

 

 

[Tuesday 7th wk. in Easter, May 19, 2026]

(Jn 17:1-11a)

 

In the Fourth Gospel, too, the Last Supper is followed by Jesus' prayer, but unlike the Synoptics, Jn places it in the same place as the Last Supper.

In the narrative of the first three Gospels, several notes tell of the Lord's intimate repugnance to the Cross - from which, however, he does not shy away, from which he does not allow himself to be overcome.

Here he only asks the Father for the indestructible quality of the Life of the Eternal in favour of his own, who have already come to know the intimacy of God: it opens up every reverberation.

To acknowledge the Son of Man as Lord is to accept a new form of existence in the Spirit.

Like a Wind that [regenerating from within] makes itself the medium and continuer of the work of creation.

The nature, character and purpose of the Salvation Mission could not be undermined by normal adherence to the precepts and pious devotions of the 'world' (vv.9.11). Configurations always careful to warn us of what might happen if...

The Father-Son relationship directs the disciples, but the Spirit who gives impetus does not warn them about the destiny that awaits them. Why?

We do not go lightly towards labours, tears, humiliations - but in reality [through death] we are going like Christ, to the Father.

We are reaching out for the transmutation of state that in human history brings redemption, flashing in the very signs of the Son, united with God's excellent design.

We are witnesses of a founding, glorious Relation, that is, of such value as to enable us to rework cultures flattened on the chronological dimension of cause-effect concatenations. All this, to reactivate all destiny.

Such a platform glosses over the sense of unworthiness.

On it, here we are enabled to become passionate 'inventors of roads' everywhere.

Here we are, no longer a mass destined to mull over imperfections - or deviations from the standard, obsessively detected by official religious law, as well as fashions.

Introduced into a Communion that is already here and now Life of the Eternal. Not contraband, not fashionable.

 

The "Life of the Eternal" (vv.2-3) springs from 'knowing' the Father and the Son. It is concentrated in an Hour (v.1): an allusion that had run through the entire fourth Gospel.

The existence of Jesus converges in the fruitful rawness of that point, which gives depth to everything: because in the Son and the sons a twofold 'glorification' is manifested.

On the one hand, the unusual aspect of a God who does not intend to be obeyed and revered at all: from the step foreign to the normal devotion that enclosed everyone in the enclosure of prescriptions and standardised thinking.

On the other hand, in ourselves who participate in this downward push, which elevates us - what remains of Christ's world - different logical presences and a different life principle arise.

Alterities, even dreams of escape, which precisely reveal Him and give Him glory.

All of this thanks to a unity that deflects habits and brings us into contact with the great intimate and creaturely energies, made to reflect a different nature of relatedness: of the primordial bond, source-and-culmination, Father-Son.

 

Chapter 17 concludes the vast reflection of the previous passages with a heartfelt and concerned prayer of the Lord for his churches, subjected to distractions, doubts, and labours.

The Priestly Prayer was intended to make believers internalise the sense of the painful time that the Johannine communities were going through.

The text differs from previous catecheses in that it is more amicable than teaching.

The Master traces his story as a commitment to manifest the Father, to make us become signs of his Face.

Christ understands that the children are subject to seductions, and risk losing the meaning of believing in Him.

Indeed, they still find it difficult to understand that Glory is not the fruit of worldly victory.

"Glory" in Jn is synonymous with the manifestation of the Face of Eternal Love in the rising of the Cross.

Presence of the God-With - unveiling of his confidence, understanding, tenderness, recovery of opposing sides.

In this way, the Glory of the Risen One is not a Relationship that remains closed in Heaven, between Father and Son.

The latter has given his intimates the "Name" (vv.6.11) i.e. revealed the Father and given access to his real Person - including the struggles undertaken.

Person who feeds us with the Word, and the meaning of its events.

Such an unmistakable Voice reminds us that every travail can bring us deeper with Jesus into the Glory and eternity of the Father.

The intimate life of God is intensity of understanding; reciprocity that flows into dilated, open, fervent union, tending to transmute every tribulation into an appeal to new kabôd-glory.

This is the specific [qualitative] weight that the believer assumes in a heaven also perceptible to the senses.

"We can compare the union between Christ and us to the union between two wax candles, joined together so closely that they emit one light" (s. Teresa of Avila, Mansions, VII).

 

Any difficulty, anguish, insecurity, now even becomes a point to converge.

Like the Lord, the disciples do not go to death, but to the Way of complete Life that annihilates distance.

 

 

To internalise and live the message:

 

What do you consider "glorious"?

How do you penetrate the intimacy of the Son with the Father?

 

 

 

To love is to create: Glory

 

Commandment Liberation. Source Cause

(Jn 13:31-35)

 

Judas is among the guests, but he does not assimilate the Bread. He takes it, yes. But he does not take it at all.

He takes it and leaves, to run after his illusions of having and power. To pursue the occult pact, with the old spiritual guides.

Thus he 'sinks into the night'. Reminder for each of us.

Despite this, divine Glory manifests itself - even in the limit. It is Love without preconditions. Difference between relationship of Faith and code of devotions.

Paradoxical realisation. Source and Summit of the Core of Being. Unveiling and Manifestation of what God Himself is.

 

We are in the "Hour": announced by the whole unfolding of the Fourth Gospel. Love that does not depend.

Invincible Love, which does not fail even as a result of our uncertainties and inflections, or our denials.

We who are supposed to be His Intimates. Friends and Brothers of the "Son of Man".

 

"Son of Man" already designates from the First Testament the character of a holiness that surpasses the ancient fiction of the rulers, who piled on top of each other reciting the same script.

The masses remained dry-mouthed: whichever ruler seized power, the petty crowd remained subdued and suffocated.

The same rule was in force in religions, whose leaders lavished the people with a strong horde impulse and the contentment of the gregarious.

 

In contrast, in the Kingdom of Jesus there must be a lack of ranks - which is why his proposal does not fit in with the ambitions of the authorities, and with the Apostles' own expectations.

They too wanted to 'count'. 

But precisely 'Son of Man' is the person according to a criterion of humanisation, not a beast that prevails because it is stronger than the others [cf. Dan 7].

Every man with a heart of flesh - not of beast, nor of stone - is an understanding person, capable of listening, always attentive to the needs of the other, who makes himself available.

All this alludes to the broad dimension of holiness; transmissible to anyone, and as creative as love, therefore all to be discovered! 

 

In the Gospels, the "Son of Man" is the true and full development of the divine plan on humanity.

Such a plan is not hindered by the frequenters of bad places.

It is not a proposal compromised with doctrine-and-discipline religion, which drives back eccentricities.

That of the 'Son of Man' is the kind of holiness that makes us unique, not one that always abhors or exorcises the danger of the unusual.

 

In short, Jesus entrusts his Testament to the disciples. Mutual union is the Lord's Last Will. With a radical novelty.

Love for one's neighbour was already among the ancient prescriptions, and Christ seems to trace its very formulation (Leviticus 19:18).

Yet the Son does not only allude to compatriots and proselytes of his own religion.

He breaks down barriers hitherto considered obvious.

In fact, mutual love is on the same line as the encounter with oneself - where by grace and vocation lurks a possession of riches, of growing perfections, that want to surface.

From such a treasure chest-knowledge, a solid platform, arises the afflatus of being able to give life: but to increase it, make it full and cheer it up.

Starting not from external conditioning.

In fact, the commandment is 'new' not only because it is edifying and stimulating; even unsurpassable, and capable of supplanting all norms.

Above all, because it reveals one's own Vocation.

It expresses a manifestative bond, which becomes foundation, growing motive and driving force; lucid energy, which gives us the ability to shift our gaze and turn the page.

It introduces a new age, a new realm. Not one-sided.

 

It is the figure of the victory of Easter, theophany and testimony of its authentic People: "not with measure" (John 3:31-36: 34).

The "without measure" is that of the mystical wedding between the two "natures", of the intimate friendship that penetrates the life of the Father.

"Glory" [irreducible] with special characteristics.

Now the morality of ancient philosophies no longer applies: ours is a vocational and paschal ethic, in the Spirit who renews the face of the earth.

Every purpose is illuminated by the victory of life over death. In this way, behaviour is configured to the Mystery.

We live in Christ, the new man: we are no longer under 'proper' duties and prescriptions.

The baptismal attitude cannot be 'measured'.

The anointing and the call received respond to the intimate passion, the sense of reciprocity and personal fullness.In this way they move eminent goals: in participation in the fullness of life, excess that cannot be assimilated to conformism and average horizons.

 

For a pious Israelite to have 'glory' is to give specific 'weight' to one's existence, and to reveal its full value - but sometimes in an elective sense.

Blossoming is our complete 'pondus' and character and worth, which, however, germinate from the whole universe within, and from the different faces that belong to us; even from the 'shadow sides'.

Here is the blossoming of Messianic Peace-Presence; a sense of Friendship with the whole being and roots, with history and the sign of the times.

For the more human we are without duplicity, and the more capable we are of reading events, and the more sensitive we are in grasping the variegated powers - that Someone within something... the more the Heaven within us manifests itself.

This is the emblem of the New Commandment, which marks difference. Integrating; making opposites coexist in us.

New Covenant; new harmony.

Making us complete from within, like Jesus. Glory of the Father, and of humanity.

 

 

Mutual union is the Lord's ultimate will. Jesus entrusts his testament to the disciples, with a radical novelty.

Love for one's neighbour was already among the ancient prescriptions, and Christ seems to trace its very formulation (Lev 19:18).

But the Son of God does not only allude to compatriots and proselytes of the same religion. He breaks down barriers hitherto considered obvious. 

Yet the great novelty is in the fundamental motivation.

Mutual love is on the same line as the encounter with oneself - where by grace and vocation lurks a possession of riches, growing perfections, that want to surface.

From such a treasure chest, knowledge, solid platform, arises the afflatus of being able to give life: but to increase it, make it full and cheer it up - starting not from external conditioning.

In fact, the commandment is 'new' not only because it is edifying and stimulating, but first and foremost because it reveals one's vocation.

It is a manifestative bond, which becomes foundation, growing motive and driving force; lucid energy, which gives us the ability to shift our gaze and turn the page: it ushers in a new age, a new kingdom.

It is the figure of the victory of Easter, theophany and testimony of its authentic people: "not with measure" (Jn 3:31-36: 34).

The "without measure" is that of the mystical wedding between the two "natures", of the intimate friendship that penetrates the life of the Father.

Even in the waiting, the boundlessness vivifies existence and fulfils it, coming from the experience of substance and vertigo.

It is the life of the Son in us: perception of a constitutive 'being'. Therefore without losing interest in the time of absence.

And of being able to change; intuition of a different (irreducible) "glory" with special characteristics.

 

Now the morality of the ancient religions no longer applies: ours is a vocational and paschal ethics, in the Spirit that renews the face of the earth.

Every purpose is illuminated by the victory of life over death. In this way, behaviour is configured to the Mystery.

We live in Christ, the new man: we are no longer under 'proper' duties and prescriptions. The baptismal attitude cannot be "measured".

The anointing and the call received respond to the intimate passion, the sense of reciprocity and personal fullness, which transcend.

Thus they move eminent goals: in participation in the fullness of life, excess that cannot be assimilated to conformism and average horizons.

For a pious Israelite to have glory is to give specific weight to one's existence, and to reveal its full value - but in an elective sense.

"Was it true glory?" - Manzoni asks himself: from glory-vain and vain it rolls down. Quite another is glory as the real Presence of God.

Only if we are placed on the same wave of beauty and fascination as the 'Son of Man' do we contribute to not letting it fade or exclude it: the more we are human without duplicity, the more Heaven that is in us manifests itself.

The badge, the emblem of the full witness of children and outspoken communities is not its own production.

It retains an indestructible quality of elasticity and relationship that does not dismay, nor does it drop its arms: it gives breath.

 

This is the New Commandment, which marks difference.

 

 

Mutual union is the Lord's ultimate will. Jesus entrusts his testament to the disciples, with a radical novelty.

Love for one's neighbour was already among the ancient prescriptions, and Christ seems to trace its very formulation (Lev 19:18).

But the Son of God does not only allude to compatriots and proselytes of the same religion. He breaks down barriers hitherto considered obvious. 

Yet the great novelty is in the fundamental motivation.

Mutual love is on the same line as the encounter with oneself - where by grace and vocation lurks a possession of riches, growing perfections, that want to surface.From such a treasure chest, knowledge, solid platform, arises the afflatus of being able to give life: but to increase it, make it full and cheer it up - not from external conditioning and tasks to be performed or exploited.

In fact, the commandment is 'new' not only because it is edifying and stimulating, but first and foremost because it reveals one's vocation and the intimate life of God, the relationship between the Father and the Son, assumed.

It is a manifestative bond, which becomes a foundation, a growing motive and a driving force; lucid energy, which gives us the ability to shift our gaze and turn the page: it ushers in a new age, a new kingdom.

The "new" commandment of love - Christ's only delivery - is the figure of the Easter victory, theophany and testimony of his authentic people: "not with measure" (Jn 3:31-36: 34).

The "without measure" is that of the mystical wedding between the two "natures", of the intimate friendship that penetrates the life of the Father.

Even in the waiting, the boundlessness vivifies existence and fulfils it, coming from the experience of substance and vertigo - already in itself.

It is the life of the Son in us: perception of a constitutive 'being'. Therefore without losing interest in the time of absence.

And of being able to change; intuition of a different (irreducible) "glory" with special characteristics.

 

Now the morality of religions no longer applies: ours is a vocational and paschal ethics, in the Spirit that renews the face of the earth.

Every purpose, every role, every ministry, is illuminated by the victory of life over death.

In this way, behaviour is configured to the Mystery.

We live in Christ, the new man: we are no longer under 'proper' duties and prescriptions. The baptismal attitude cannot be measured.

The anointing and the call received respond to the intimate passion, the sense of reciprocity and personal fullness, which transcend.

Thus they move eminent goals: in participation in the fullness of life, excess that cannot be assimilated to conformism and average horizons.

 

For a pious Israelite to have glory is to give specific weight to one's existence, and to reveal its full value - but in an elective sense.

"Was it true glory?" - Manzoni asks himself: from glory-vain and vain it rolls down. Quite another glory as the real Presence of God.

 

Here are the disagreements between community and humanity (persons in fullness); liturgy and reality, prayer and listening, theology and life, proclamations and behind the scenes.

While the Synoptics proclaim universal love, the author of the Fourth Gospel is concerned that the unexpressed testimony of the children is not a blatant denial of the holiness preached to others [by the 'elect'].

As Paul VI said: 'Contemporary man listens more willingly to witnesses than to teachers'. Not only for an appropriate and due evaluation of moral coherence, but because they refer to the Mystery, to divine Gold.

Only if we are placed on the same wave of beauty and fascination as the "Son of Man" do we contribute to not letting it fade away or exclude it: the more human we are without duplicity, the more Heaven is manifested within us.

Of course, it seems impossible to love "like" Him (v.34), but here the Greek expression has another way of reading it. The original term does not merely indicate an ideal horizon or the lofty measure - unattainable by effort.

"Kathòs" [adverb and conjunction] is endowed with generative as well as comparative value.

The key expression of the passage can be understood as: "Love one another because I have loved you unconditionally" or "Because I have loved you unconditionally, on such a wave of life, you can now love one another".

It means: making one's neighbour feel already enabled - adequate and free - is the only unreduced mark of faith in Christ.

In short, the Father is not the God of prescriptions: he does not absorb our energies, but generates and dilates them.

He does not pretend to suffocate and exhaust us.

 

The badge, the emblem of the full witness of children and outspoken communities is not its own production.

It retains an indestructible quality of elasticity and relationship that does not dismay, nor does it drop arms: it gives breath.

It is not the work of fanatical pro- and anti-subversives, nor of a devout individualism that preaches the 'salvation of one's own soul' - an exasperation of religious piety and the pedestrian retributive morality of 'merits'.

It is the unfolding of the action of the Son of Man (v. 31) that empowers the downtrodden and petty.

The Master is not content to be a gregarious follower, like the heterodox Judas, a zealous apostle in appearance.

"Son of man" indicates Jesus who manifests the Father, the man who makes manifest the divine condition.

The Person who in his human fullness reflects the wholesome design of the Origins - possibility for all reborn in Christ.

 

The carnal feeling is in a hurry to regulate itself on the basis of goals and titles; of achievements and success, or of the beloved's perfections and prestige. 

It sets boundaries.Divine Love (and that of children) is disproportionate, it has a different conduct: it prevents, it recovers; it does not break understanding, it helps.

Non-wandering Love knows the small, the uncertain and the weak. It knows that they only grow through the experience of the Gift, otherwise they get stuck.

If the Free does not supplant merit, no one grows stronger; on the contrary, all - even the energetic - shrink. Condemned to an external cloak of norms and doctrines, or of disembodied abstractions and sophistications.

That is why the 'Son of Man' - the genuine and full development of the divine plan for mankind - is not hindered by public sinners, but by those who suppose of themselves and would have the ministry of making it known!

 

Divine glory has nothing to do with uniforms, coats, cockades or epidermal badges; it is manifested in the Communion without prior interdictions, in the service that is rendered to the inadequate and unmanifested - from which to hope for zero.

Nothing that can then be supplemented by adding a little something - a mere 'completion' - to the norms of the First Covenant [which did not insist on God-likeness but on mass obedience].

Fundamentalist inclinations, or circumstantial and à la page manners, the lust for worldly prestige - in reality - divide.

The conviviality of differences encompasses, dilates, accentuates the amalgam and unites, enriching. It opens to the unusual and unimaginable.

 

Founders of religions propose a worldview and are static models of behaviour.

They do not propose a growing offer (Jn 14:12: "greater works"). Widely personal invitations - deep and sharp, more so than their own.

Jesus is not a predictable 'model' to be imitated.

He is above all - we repeat - a Motive and an Engine: let us love like and because Christ. Living by Him, each one.

We risk everything because we are within an Event that we have seen, of a Relationship that not only persuades, but leads us and generates beyond; not in a downward spiral.

We are no longer under a Law that appoints God by obligation, but in the challenge of a gesture that re-creates and gradually fulfils, making our weakness strong.

So much so that shadow sides become resources and amazement. All without depersonalising; on the contrary, emphasising uniqueness.

 

This is the 'new' commandment.

"Kainòs" is a Greek term that marks difference, eclipses the rest - in the sense that it sums up, surpasses and replaces. It supersedes all commandments: obvious and conditional.

And there will not be a better one, because our hope is not Heaven (ready), but Heaven on earth.

More than the too far of the old final Paradise with invariable fare and predictable fulfilment. Modic, conformist, sectoral; even there articulated according to roles.

And pyramidal.

 

 

 

To deepen the evangelical theme of Glory:

 

Give your life and quickly betray

(Jn 13:21-33.36-38)

 

"I will lay down my life for you" - in order to lead.

The apostles would give everything to win, not to lose; to triumph, not to be mocked or fed, and to heal the world.

Better to negotiate. Rather than wash each other's feet!

That is why the Lord wants each of us diners to ask the question whether we are not involved in some betrayal.

Not to blame and plant ourselves there, but to meet each other: each is an admirer and an adversary of the Master.

We are splendour and darkness - coexisting sides, more or less integrated, even competitive.

It is the Resurrection that lurks in the effervescence of life, redeeming then the selfish motivations, and transfiguring into collimating energies elsewhere the dark and frictional sides.

Aspects that become like baby food, for each new genesis - which once they have emerged [planted in the earth and pulled up by the roots] can become strengths.

The road is only blocked in front of the person who continues to have his soul conditioned by old or à la page opinions and evils.

Nothing is revealed there; the miracle of the transmutation of our abyss will not take place.

 

The liturgy of the Word brings us into contact with a Jesus pervaded by a sense of weakness; his loneliness becomes acute.

In mission, we too are sometimes at the mercy of despondency: perhaps God has deceived us, dragging us into an absurd enterprise?

No, we are not deceived and abandoned to an ignoble logic, to a perverse generation: the power of life itself is strewn with tombstones and has various faces. Beneficial influences.

The favourable path is devoid of prestige, recognised tasks and majesty: they tend to placate us, and not dig in.

It is often disturbances that improve judgement.

The dripping can arouse the voice of the most authentic part of ourselves, become an incisive echo to find ourselves, and complete ourselves - bringing forward the pioneering heart, instead of holding it back.

The road of trial and imbalance awakens us from the harmful ageing of the spirit.It recovers the opposing energies, the opposing sides, and the incompatible desires, the (allied) passions to which we have not given space.

Even in the torturing experience of limitation, God wants to reach out to our variegated seed, so that it does not allow itself to be despoiled - not even by the dismay of having drawn the morsel together and having been the traitor.

Nothing is crippling.

 

There is only one toxic, chronic sphere of death, which annihilates everything and has no active germs in it: that which obscures and detests primary change.

There the horizon narrows and all that remains is a chasm - or the blandness that infects to make us give up, and relentlessly retreat, deny and regress again.

All that remains are the fears, the half-choices, the neuroses silenced by the compromise that attempts to fill the precious sense of emptiness.

 

We are faced with a Lord reduced to nothing, so that we too can understand ourselves in our defections; in the episodes in which we camp useless and deviant contrivances, all measured, that fatigue in vain.

The story of the incomprehensible loneliness of Christ beside the traitor and the renegade is written in our hearts.

It is all reality, but for salvation, for renewed intimacy and conviction.

The missionary vocation is extinguished and stagnates only by ballast of calculation and common mentality - where the naked poverty of the discordant being that we are does not shake (nor tinkle).

Without the abandonment undergone, man does not become universal, rather he tends to attenuate the best instruments of God's power.

On that steppe terrain He is giving us the friendship of a shift in our gaze.

Without the restlessness of deep and humiliating upheaval - without the surrender of one's humanity in extreme weakness - our unsatisfied puppet lingers, content.

Despite its admiration for values, it too becomes a residual larva. A caricature of the being we could be: women and men with a contemplative eye.

Completed from within, like Jesus.

 

 

To internalise and live the message:

 

What do I draw when the Lord asks me to risk?

What do unfriendly gestures and rejection mean to you, in the paradoxical outcomes?

 

 

 

Glory to one another: the Seed within and the entourage without

 

The Greatest Witness

(Jn 5:31-47)

 

"Christians are a priestly people for the world. Christians should make the living God visible to the world, bear witness to Him and lead it to Him".

"Jesus loved men in the Father, from the Father - and so loved them in their true being, in their reality."

[Pope Benedict].

 

Jesus does not love catwalks. The Son remains immersed in the Father: he does not receive support and glory from fashionable men or ancient perimeters, because he is not imbued with normal human cultural religious expectations.

They prevent the perception of what we do not know, therefore they conceal the exceptional nature of the particular name; they drench the head and the gaze with current and pedestrian normality, which condition, dissociate, plagiarise, make external.

Predictable expectations delay the germination of the Kingdom of God and its alternative character - in the living experience of further exchanges; of other interpersonal qualities, in the completeness of being that belongs to us.

The specific weight of this unprecedented present and future, which corresponds because it is part of our intimate essence, otherwise remains in the hands of obvious opinions and the usual cheap dragging, which does not expose.

The pathology of reputation, of accredited convictions and the concordant praxis on the side, precludes winging it. But every short and rigid hope rejects God for God's sake.

Only that which is not petrified and conventional bears witness to Christ the Lord, the likeness of the Father who does not reject our eccentricities: he wants to make them grow - recovering their flourishing opposites.

The same 'no moments' that crumble prestige are also a spring to activate us and not stagnate in the same old situations; regenerating, moving forward elsewhere.

Failures that put fame in the balance serve to make us realise what we had not noticed, thus deviating from a conformist destiny.

In short, our Heaven is intertwined with our transmuting flesh, our earth and our dust: it lies within and below, not behind the clouds or in the manners.

In the paradoxical deification of the coming God, the all-worldly mentality of every purist or conformist circle experiences a reversal. Cipher of the great Wisdom of nature.

This is how Master Lü Hui-ch'ing comments on a famous passage from the Tao Tê Ching (LXXVI): "Heaven is on high for ch'ì, Earth is on low for form: ch'ì is soft and weak, form is hard and strong".

 

The trial-religious aspect to which the story of Jesus [even his intimates] was subjected often appears in John.

The aspirations of the pious men of old are strangely hinged on the need to make a body and recognise one another. Hence always 'those from before'.Their world, centred on the honour one receives: the theme is Glory - which, however, becomes a dialogue between the deaf. 'Doxa' in the Greek world means manifestation of prestige, honour, esteem.

In Hebrew, the term Glory [Kabôd] means specific, qualitative weight (and manifestation) of the transcendent.

So the glory that man gives to God - so to speak - is the opposite of the Hellenist criterion: the principle and evaluation typical of the strutting, 'free', independent and self-confident hero [because of the prestige around].

Conversely, here is 'glory' as humble and grateful recognition, but weighty in the Christian sense: familiar and humanising.

The woman and man called to a particular mission discover in themselves and in reality the conditions of perfection and imperfection.

They guide us to innate fulfilment - not volatile - and the common good, according to specific, personal contribution.

No one is called to artificial prestige and strength, adding something to the honour of what is already in one's vocational essence - sometimes in paradoxical completeness, for a conviviality of differences.

The Glory of Jesus himself was only the awareness and confession of being the Father's Envoy.

That is all we are entitled to - even in the sense of growth, of importance in itself, more than 'those who realise'.

 

The devout groups unfortunately not infrequently moved to a level of worldly aspirations - just with a strange mixture of criteria.

So they ended up appreciating each other in circles, patting each other on the back.

Thus - content to be confirmed - they still tend to accentuate the characteristics of what is normally identified as the spiritual dimension, and that easily becomes contaminated with the compromise of the artificial external look.

Instead, the inner balance of the Called by Name is re-established through dreams and the congenital character - rather than through weighing and the raw influences of conscious life, which distract and level the soul.

In fact, on such a slope, one tends to adopt attitudes that do not fit the very original vocation; on the contrary, they expose the consciousness to dissociations and conditionings that distort it.

The Way in the Spirit of Freedom, Love, Newness, is inspired by a dimension of Mystery and spontaneity all to be discovered: Exodus.

Such a character proceeds beyond compartments, denominations filled with established solutions, with conformist thinking hooked on an univocal way of reading the Scriptures and testimonies.

Cages, even 'spiritual' ones, guilt every different, inculcate brooding, curb the most fruitful eccentricities.

In order to ensure 'ecclesial' compactness, the various stigmas everywhere play on the inadequacy of the majority interpretation - and guilt typical of the particular 'container'.

Such framings do not reawaken creativity, rather they anaesthetise it according to internal clichés: where precisely they take "glory from one another" (v.44).

 

Frames do not teach one to launch oneself personally and at the right time.

The rhythm, too, does not descend on dissimilar inclinations, on their atypicality - a unique richness that prepares the unrepeatable and extravagant New that we do not already know.

Instruction booklets harass us with other people's progressions and goals to reach, all of which turn out to be yet to be surpassed - and outside our own taste and intimate sense; projected into the future, impersonal.

The 'spiritual' path of the pack reflects the life, judgement or idea of the leader and his 'magic' circle; the forma mentis of a generation or a class.

In this way, established trajectories do not announce changes and authentic encounters, which take place in the propulsive, transversal simplicity of the concrete unpredictable. 

Stubborn models do not make us aware of a God Person: He calls to life through impulses that would be new blood for transmutation.

The Eternal One communicates Himself in what He speaks within.

Precisely in the needs - not obsessing energies known only to the soul, of conflicts over useless duties, which neither solve anything nor transmit happiness.

The 'egocentric' religious ideology and all directed thought brand crises as inadequacies to collective purposeful actions - thus condemning instincts.

But instincts manifest themselves as escapes of the individual heart that seeks new listening, desires to surface and realise; it wants to integrate in its own way, or to chart paths that prepare for the future.

 

Not infrequently, the evocation of the usual delimited rituals - e.g. of 'charisma' - as well as the concatenation of normative constitutions, deaden the character in a levelled atmosphere, which drinks of recollected attunements.

They are not our land.

The barnyard of the 'system' operates according to directives and roles.

But compartments limit the range of action, although they seemingly dilute it.Trivial inclusions 'teach' us to be content with half-steps already chiselled into the little and not over the top.

This is so as not to allow for the regenerations that count.

 

The self-referential clan often takes away space from any possibility that moves from there.

This makes one dependent on applause. It slows down, when conversely we could dare.... 

Lest we continue to perceive healthy restlessness. Differences that would redeem us from subordination.

In fact, the one-sided imprint does not respect nature, so it reinforces what it says it wants to banish.

A disaster for a life of meaning and witness in Christ.

 

The Lord had as his only daily worship - precisely - the emptiness of social support (which did not accept his deviations) and the fullness of beginnings in the Father.

 

"But I have a greater witness than John, for the works that the Father has given me to do, the very works that I do, testify of me that the Father has sent me" (John 5:36).

 

 

To internalise and live the message:

 

How do you safeguard community living and your transpositions of Faith in Christ?

What is the point of homologation in satisfaction, and where do you place your Preciousness?