25th Sunday in Ordinary Time (year A)  [20 September 2026]

First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah (55:6–9)

‘Seek the Lord, for he is to be found.’ Isaiah’s message does not mean: ‘Hurry, for God might withdraw.’ On the contrary: God is always near and always allows himself to be found. It is we, in our freedom, who turn away from him, and sometimes we even lose the desire to seek him.

Isaiah speaks to a discouraged people, exiled to Babylon and convinced that God has abandoned them. The prophet urges them to reject this idea: God’s silence does not mean His absence, and God is not far away, inaccessible or incapable of forgiving. On the contrary, He is ‘abundant in forgiveness’. The fundamental theme is therefore that of return: when we think of God as a harsh, vengeful or indifferent judge, we turn away from Him. When, on the other hand, we turn back to Him, we discover His true face: a tender, merciful God, ready to forgive. This revelation runs throughout the Bible. Hosea presents God as the One who sets aside His anger because His heart is full of compassion. Jeremiah speaks of thoughts of peace, capable of bestowing a future and hope. In the Gospel, Jesus reminds us that God causes the sun to rise on the good and the bad and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. Even Jonah rebukes God because his compassion towards Israel’s enemies is ‘tender and merciful’. God is the ‘Wholly Other’ and the ‘Wholly Near’. Isaiah declares: ‘My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are my ways your ways.’ God is infinitely different from us, but it is precisely this difference that reveals something extraordinary: God loves and forgives without keeping score. We are often accustomed to the logic of give and take: we think that the good should be rewarded and the wicked punished; we tally up our merits and ask ourselves whether we are worthy of forgiveness. God, on the other hand, does not ask us to ‘earn’ his love. His forgiveness is grace; it is freely given. The real question, therefore, is not whether God is willing to forgive us, but whether we are willing to accept his forgiveness. As the text from Chronicles says: ‘If my people […] turn from their wicked ways, I will hear them, I will forgive their sin and heal them.’ It is not God who attaches a condition to his love: it is we who must open ourselves up in order to receive it. Finally, ‘my thoughts are not your thoughts’ also calls us to humility and tolerance. Since God infinitely transcends our understanding, no one can claim to possess the full truth about him. Speaking of God therefore requires humility and a willingness to listen. In short, God does not turn away from us: it is we who turn away from Him. And when we return, we do not find a stern God who holds us to account for our mistakes, but a Father who is ever near, tender, merciful and rich in forgiveness. His love cannot be bought or earned: it is received freely. 

Responsorial Psalm (144/145) 

‘The Lord is good to all.’ Psalm 144/145 harmonises perfectly with the message of the prophet Isaiah: God is full of mercy, rich in forgiveness, and continually invites humanity to return to Him. The psalm is the response of one who has rediscovered faith: ‘I will bless you every day; I will praise your name for ever.’ It is an ‘alphabetical’ psalm: from beginning to end, from A to Z, the whole of life is steeped in God’s covenant, His tenderness and His greatness. The psalm proclaims: ‘Great is the Lord and worthy of all praise; His greatness is without end.’ Isaiah expresses the same idea by saying that God’s thoughts and ways are infinitely superior to our own. But God’s greatness is not that of human power, wealth or success. God’s true greatness lies in his love and, above all, in his capacity to forgive. The same principle applies to human beings: true greatness does not lie in dominating others, but in knowing how to love. This is natural, for we are created in God’s image. A justice different from our own The psalm states: ‘The Lord is good to all; his compassion extends to all his creatures.’ God’s forgiveness is not reserved for a select few: it is offered to everyone, even to the sinner who returns to him. Our idea of justice leads us to think that those who have sinned greatly should receive a greater punishment. God, however, invites us to change our perspective: God’s justice is not that of the scales, but that of love. This is also shown in the parable of the labourers of the last hour: everyone receives the same wage, regardless of the number of hours worked. Jesus thus teaches us that God’s love does not operate according to our calculations of merit, seniority or reward. His generosity takes nothing away from anyone. God is close to everyone. The psalm concludes: ‘ The Lord is close to all who call upon him, to all who call upon him in sincerity’. God’s goodness is for everyone. His greatness is his love; his justice is mercy; and his forgiveness is not measured by our merits. And when we discover this logic, we are called not only to accept his forgiveness, but also to rejoice in the good he bestows upon others, without envy or judgement. 

Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Philippians 

‘For me, to live is Christ.’ The Letter to the Philippians is particularly moving because it combines Paul’s great passion for Christ and for his mission with his human and fraternal affection for the people he encountered. Paul writes whilst in prison and facing the threat of death. Yet he affirms with great serenity: ‘Christ will be glorified in my body, whether I live or die’, that is, in his person and in his life. If he is set free, he will be able to continue proclaiming the Gospel; if, on the other hand, he dies, even his martyrdom will become a testimony to faith in the Resurrection. For Paul, therefore, whatever happens can become an opportunity to make Christ known. Even his imprisonment has helped to encourage other Christians to proclaim the Word. ‘For me, to live is Christ’ When Paul says: ‘For me, to live is Christ and to die is gain’, he expresses the very heart of his existence: Christ is his reason for living. To live means to belong to Christ and to serve him; to die means to enter fully into communion with him. Paul does indeed long to depart so that he may be with Christ, yet he does not wish to shirk the mission entrusted to him. He is torn between two desires: on the one hand, he longs to be with Christ once and for all; on the other, he knows that his presence can be of service to others. Ultimately, what matters to him is not his own interest, but the good of the communities and the spread of the Gospel. The only thing that matters is the Gospel. Paul thus leaves us with a very important question: what do we live for? For him, the answer is clear: to live means to belong to Christ and to place one’s life at the service of the Gospel. He regards his own life as a gift to be spent on others. This is why he concludes by exhorting the Philippians: ‘Conduct yourselves, then, in a manner worthy of the Gospel of Christ’. It is not simply a matter of being morally upright people. It means taking the Gospel seriously and making it visible through one’s life, one’s words and one’s service. To live for Christ means transforming one’s whole life into a testimony to God’s love.  

From the Gospel according to Matthew (20:1–16a) 

Let us set aside our bookkeeper’s logic. This is the logic presented to us in the parable of the labourers in the vineyard. By our standards, it seems unfair: those who have worked all day receive the same pay as those who arrived at the last hour, but Jesus makes it clear straight away that he is not speaking of a normal business, but of the ‘Kingdom of Heaven’. And in the Kingdom of God, different criteria apply from our own: ‘My thoughts are not your thoughts,’ says the Lord. The central point of the parable is what it reveals about God: ‘I am good’. God’s goodness does not keep score, does not measure merits, and does not determine how much love each person has ‘earned’. In the Kingdom of God, there is no tally of merits. We, on the other hand, are often tempted to keep track of everything: sacrifices, sufferings, prayers, good works. We think that all this gives us ‘rights’ before God. Jesus invites us to completely change this mindset.

‘Are you envious because I am good?’ The workers hired at the first hour protest: ‘You treat them just like us!’, whilst thinking: ‘We deserve more.’ But love does not operate according to the logic of merit. Love cannot be bought or earned: it is received as a gift. God’s justice does not consist in distributing according to our calculations, but in loving each of his children fully and without measure. The same logic runs through the whole of the Bible: God forgives the people of Nineveh even though they are pagans; Jesus welcomes tax collectors and sinners; the father in the parable joyfully welcomes the prodigal son. And on the cross, the good thief, at the very last moment, turns to Jesus and receives the promise of Paradise. Who can call themselves a ‘worker of the first hour’? In reality, the parable should console us. Who amongst us can truly consider themselves a worker of the first hour? We are all, in some way, workers of the last hour. We all live by God’s mercy and free grace. The problem arises when we look at others with envy and think that God is too good to them. That is when our eyes become evil. The lesson, therefore, is an invitation to abandon the mindset of comparison, merit and calculation, and to enter into the logic of grace. In short, God does not love us according to our merits: he loves us freely, fully and without measure. True conversion consists in abandoning our ‘accountant’s logic’ and learning to see through God’s eyes. We must not ask ourselves who deserves more, but rejoice because God is good to everyone. ‘My thoughts are not your thoughts, and my ways are not your ways’ (Isaiah). God’s justice is, ultimately, the justice of love and mercy.

+Giovanni D’Ercole

In today’s Gospel reading (cf Mt 20:1-16) there is the parable of the day labourers in the vineyard, which Jesus recounts in order to explain two aspects of the Kingdom of God: the first is that God wants to call everyone to work for his Kingdom; the second is that, in the end, he wants to give everyone the same reward, that is, salvation, eternal life.

The owner of the vineyard who represents God, goes out at dawn and hires a group of workers, agreeing with them on the day’s wages. It was a fair wage. Then he goes out again [several times] later in the day — he goes out five times on that day — until the late afternoon to hire other unemployed labourers whom he sees. At the end of the day, the landowner orders that a denarius be paid to everyone, even to those who had only worked for a few hours. Naturally, the labourers who were hired first complain because they see that they are paid as much as those who worked for fewer hours. The landowner however, reminds them about what had been agreed; if he then wants to be generous with the others, they should not be envious.

In reality, this “injustice” of the owner serves to provoke in those listening to the parable a qualitative leap because here Jesus does not want to speak about the issue of work or of a fair wage, but about the Kingdom of God! And this is the message: there are no unemployed people in the Kingdom of God. Everyone is called to do their part; and there will be a reward from divine justice for everyone in the end — not from human [justice], luckily! —, but the salvation that Jesus Christ acquired for us with his death and Resurrection, a salvation which is not deserved, but donated — salvation is free — thus, “the last will be the first and the first last” (Mt 20:16).

With this parable, Jesus wants to open our hearts to the logic of the Father’s love which is free and generous. It is about allowing oneself to be astonished and fascinated by the “thoughts” and the “ways” of God which, as the Prophet Isaiah recalls, are not our thoughts and not our ways (cf Is 55:8). Human thoughts are often marked by selfishness and personal advantages, and our narrow and contorted paths are not comparable to the wide and straight streets of the Lord. He uses mercy — do not forget this: He uses mercy —, he forgives broadly, is filled with generosity and kindness which he pours forth on each of us. He opens for everyone the boundless territory of his love and his grace, which alone can give the human heart the fullness of joy.

Jesus wants to make us contemplate the gaze of that landowner: the gaze with which he looks upon each of the labourers searching for work and calls them to go to his vineyard. It is a gaze which is filled with attention, kindness. It is a gaze which calls, invites one to get up and begin a journey because he wants life for each of us; he wants a full, committed life, safe from emptiness and inertia. God excludes no one and wants each of us to achieve his or her fullness. This is the love of our God, of our God who is Father.

May Mary Most Holy help us welcome into our lives the logic of love which frees us from the presumption of deserving God’s reward and from the critical judgement of others.

[Pope Francis, Angelus, 24 September 2017]

In the difference between common religiosity and Faith

(Lk 8:4-15)

The parables compare the lived reality and the world of the Spirit:

«And another part fell on the earth the beautiful one, and sprouted it bore fruit a hundredfold» (v.8).

Palestine’ stony terrain and scorching climate did not make it easy for the workers who lived on agriculture.

The lack of rain and the intrusion into the fields of those who wanted to shorten the path, destroyed the plants.

Tiring action and few tangible results.

Despite the enormous difficulties, every year the peasant threw grains with a wide hand, generously - and ploughed, animated by confidence in the inner life force of the seed and in the bounty of nature.

Ploughing was after sowing, to avoid that the soils turned over dried immediately under the powerful heat, and did not allow the grains to take root thanks to a minimum of moisture.

So the sower did not select the different types of ground prematurely.

The Seed already works: the new ‘Kingdom that Comes’ is not glorious, but here and there it takes root and produces - even where you do not expect.

According to the ancient religious mentality it seems a madness, but the divine Farmer does not choose the type of "land", nor discriminates on the basis of the percentage of production - although it would seem easy to predict.

The Sower even accepts that his ‘grain’ fallen on the ground «beautiful», fruits in differently: one hundred, sixty, thirty for one [Mt 13:8.23; Mk 4:8.20; the text of Lk does not speak of percentages].

The term «beautiful» (in the Eastern sense) means the full and fruitful land [the soul and work of the most intimate, even anonymous ones].

The Lord means that a wise commitment to evangelization cannot be measured with fussiness.

His Word remains as a Beginning thrown into the human heart by the One who is neither stingy nor exclusive - but magnanimous.

In this way, the Church, his new People, is a small alternative world to both the Empire and selective religions.

The new Rabbi did not intend to carve out better disciples than others - isolated from the reality of the human family.

He was proposing a new lifestyle, cohabiting.

In short, God does not force the growth of the ‘seed’ in each of us, in an abstract way; He waits patiently.

Even accepts that it is born badly or that it does not arise at all. He knows where to go.

Since overflowingly spreads on all kinds of hearts (even on asphalt), He foresees already that will be accused of being unwise.

But He does not worry about the quantity, nor about the immediate outward fruits of His ‘grain’.

He does not care that the work is "effective in departure"!

Such is the amiable, humanizing and divine (parental) Tolerance that saves. Loveableness that does not kidnap us every moment, to plan.

Rather, all this is to make us understand that He is not a calculating and miserly God, external, tight and biased; but a munificent and conciliatory Father.

Lord of the Kingdom who does not wait first for our little ‘perfections’.

The metaphor that follows the initial parable is intended to emphasize that any lack of result is not to be attributed to the lack of vitality of the Seed, nor to the divine Work, but to man’s freedom; to his condition of limit or incoherence.

Unfortunately, from the earliest generations of believers, the positive Call of Jesus has been reinterpreted somewhat backwards: with moralistic and individualistic overtones (vv.11-15) that have undermined its genuineness.

In this way, the initial proposal of personal Faith became contaminated with the customary purist and fall-back [guilt-ridden] outlook typical of the surrounding philosophies and religions, as well as common thought.

Certain configurations of ecclesial order subsequently normalized the same exceptional power of the Message; so unprecedented. In particular, the new sense of adequacy, confidence and self-esteem that the Son of God intended to communicate to His friends, and to the world of the least.

[Saturday 24th wk. in O.T.  September 19, 2026]

The difference between common religiosity and personal Faith

(Lk 8:4-15)

The stony soil and scorching climate of Palestine did not make life easy for farmers. The scarcity of rain and the intrusion into the fields of those who wanted to shorten their journey destroyed the plants. It was hard work with few tangible results.

Despite the enormous difficulties, every year the farmer sowed his seed generously and ploughed, animated by his faith in the seed's inner vitality and in the munificence of nature.

Ploughing followed sowing, to prevent the turned soil from drying out immediately under the intense heat and preventing the seed from taking root thanks to a minimum of moisture. Therefore, the sower did not select the different types of soil in advance.

The parable (vv. 5-8) that precedes the allegory (vv. 11-15) compares lived reality with the world of the Spirit. The seed is already at work: the new 'Kingdom to Come' is not glorious, but here and there it takes root and produces - even where you least expect it.

According to conventional thinking, this seems crazy, but the divine 'farmer' does not choose the type of 'soil', nor does he discriminate on the basis of its productive potential - which would seem easy to predict.

The Sower even accepts that his 'grain' fallen on 'good' soil (v. 8) will bear fruit in time 'with perseverance' (v. 15). Unlike Mark and Matthew, Luke speaks only of 'fruit a hundredfold' (v. 8).

Jesus means that the work of evangelisation cannot be measured with pedantry. His Word remains as a Seed sown in the human heart by the One who is neither stingy nor exclusive - but magnanimous.

His Church is a small world alternative to both the Empire and immediately selective religions: the Lord has no intention of carving out disciples who are immediately better than others and isolated from the reality of the human family. A new way of life.

God does not force the growth of the 'seed' in each of us, but waits patiently. He also accepts that it may grow badly or not sprout at all.

Since he scatters abundantly on all kinds of hearts [even on the asphalt], he knows that he will be accused of being unwise: he is not concerned with the immediate external fruits (!) of his 'seed' - he does not care whether the work is 'effective from the outset' (!).

But he is interested in making us understand that he is a Father, not the calculating God of ancient beliefs: miserly, superficial, stingy, aloof, prejudiced.

The metaphor that follows the initial parable emphasises that any lack of results is not attributable to the seed's lack of vitality, nor to God's work, but to human freedom; to our limited or inconsistent nature.

God is generous, especially in the age of rebirth from crisis: it is also a time of generous sowing by the Father, the 'farmer' of his seedlings - more adventurous and less respectable than traditionalists.

Obviously, the Word of the Master and Lord warns against anything that could prevent a new genesis - above all because we often wait to mechanically return to old roles and the old system of things, which is habitual, external and dirigiste.

Are we perhaps still too attached to previous desires and economic levels that have now been overwhelmed by events... not accepting the emergence of opposites that we had never experienced or planned for?

We still think we can return to 'everything as it was before'; to the superficiality of a society based on appearances, not rooted in conviction, immediately enthusiastic and unable to look beyond.

Instead, the changing tide is coming so that we can learn to look within, elsewhere and beyond - to focus on our own and others' unique figures, in the conviviality of differences.

It is likely that the knowledge or lifestyle we would like to reaffirm is still linked to old models that are welcome but now inadequate to provide new answers to new questions. And perhaps all this has led us to imitate too much the disqualified having-appearing, instead of the precious being at the centre of our Calling by Name.

It is not impossible that we have allowed ourselves to become accustomed to decision-making nomenclatures or to hastiness due to performance anxiety, which do not take into account the beautiful terrain of character and vocational gift [which would lead to better contact with the unfulfilled energies of our true inclination - nestled among inconsistencies].

Here we are, caught up in concerns about restoring 'business as usual' or 'how we should be'... Despite the fact that the current traumas are clear signs to broaden our awareness, which has been stifled until now (as if by brambles). These contemporary appeals are eloquent calls to launch every side towards the Exodus, to conquer renewed freedoms and territories of the soul, in essence.

All the influence of an empty and formal spirituality that we carry with us still inhibits a good perception of today, and unnerves us, taking away our inner strength. It does not allow us to follow our own impulse in harmony with the inner world - or the same tendencies in listening to the incessant Call of the Gospels, which is still disseminated by non-conformist prophets, to announce the truth and the creation of a new world.

Well, something - or our whole life - could end up confused; more than ever, we may not be going in the right and clear direction: we may not be making ourselves special as the Sower would like - precisely because of the clichés or emotional voids that steal the Seed, or suffocate the plant, or because of the usual presumption that wants to rise to the top immediately and thus prevents us from putting down deep roots.

We will then have to put aside our mental turmoil and unilateral volitional turmoil; leave space and give in to the new current of quality that is carrying us. And surrender to the proposals of the tide of grains that come to guide us beyond the old disputes: to the natural, original energy of Providence, which knows more than we do.

To the Wind of the Spirit that unfolds beyond the 'grains' - where you least expect it - it does not even matter how immediate the results are - but our 'good' harmony (v.8) - which helps to bring us up to speed with the reality of far-sighted combinations. They will reorder everything in a different way: beyond habitual mental systems - and every result will be more prudent, in favour of the peripheries.

Without too much disposition and calculation in the choice of terrain - once pretentiously removed and sanitised upstream - we will realise that the Sower will finally have crumbled many worldly pedestals, not to humiliate anyone, but to give surprises of astonishing fruitfulness, even for the growth of every creed [all denominations].

His is always and everywhere a generous and uniquely creative Action, put in place to regenerate and empower convictions - not to make us repeat the usual actions or liturgies from the manual [or more glamorous ones]. Then resume playing with the performance or narrow confines of approved patterns.

If we want to synchronise ourselves with the movement of the Sower, we must move with Him and like Him towards the poverty of the various soils [existential situations].

A special narrowness - even more acute in times of global emergency - that forces us to 'move', to become itinerant, to scatter everywhere... and not just to reap a hundredfold (vv. 8.15) in the usual protected centre.

Parables and the mystery of blindness: Narration and transmutation

Getting lost, for transformation

(Lk 8:9-10, 18; cf. Mt 13:10-17; Mk 4:10-12, 25)

St Paul expresses the meaning of the 'mystery of blindness' that contrasts with his journey with the famous expression 'thorn in the side': wherever he went, enemies were already waiting for him, as well as unexpected disagreements.

So it is for us too: disastrous events, catastrophes, emergencies, the disintegration of old reassuring certainties - all external and murky; until recently considered permanent.

Perhaps in the course of our existence, we have already realised that misunderstandings have been the best ways to reactivate ourselves and introduce the energies of renewed Life.

These are resources or situations that we might never have imagined would be allies in our own and others' fulfilment.

Erich Fromm says:

'To live means to be born at every moment. Death occurs when we cease to be born. Birth is therefore not an act; it is an uninterrupted process. The purpose of life is to be born fully, but the tragedy is that most of us die before we are truly born'.

Indeed, in a climate of unrest or absurd differences [that force us to regenerate], the most neglected inner virtues sometimes come to the fore.

New energies - seeking space - and external powers. Both malleable; unusual, unimaginable, unorthodox.

But they find solutions, the real way out of our problems; the path to a future that is not simply a reorganisation of the previous situation, or of how we imagined 'things should have been and done'.

Once a cycle is over, we start a new phase; perhaps with greater righteousness and frankness - brighter and more natural, humanising, closer to the 'divine'.

Authentic and engaging contact with our deepest states of being is generated acutely by detachments.

They lead us to a dynamic dialogue with the eternal reserves of transmuting forces that inhabit us and belong to us.

A primordial experience that goes straight to the heart.

Within us, this path 'fishes' for the creative, fluctuating, unprecedented option.

In this way, the Lord transmits and opens his proposal using 'images'.

An arrow of Mystery that goes beyond the fragments of consciousness, culture, procedures, and what is common.

For a knowledge of oneself and of the world that goes beyond that of history and current events; for the active awareness of other contents.Until the turmoil and chaos itself guides the soul and compels it to a new beginning, to a different perspective (completely shifted), to a new understanding of ourselves and the world.

Well, the transformation of the universe cannot be the result of cerebral or dirigiste teaching; rather, it is the result of a narrative exploration - one that does not distance people from themselves.

And Jesus knows this.

New interpretation of the different Soils

Evolution of the Covenant in times of crisis: the same flaws, different harmonisations

(Mt 13:18-23)

God is generous, especially in the age of rebirth from crisis: it is also a time of generous sowing on the part of the Father.

He remains the Farmer of his seedlings - more adventurous and less respectable than traditionalists or fashionable people.

Obviously, the Word of the Master and Lord warns against anything that could prevent a new Genesis - above all because we often wait to mechanically return to old roles and the old system of things; to the habitual, external, dirigiste model.

Are we perhaps still too attached to desires and previous economic levels (v. 22) now overwhelmed by things... not accepting the emergence of opposites that we had never experienced or planned for (v. 19)?

We still think we can return to 'everything as before'; to the superficiality of a society based on appearances rather than convictions; to an immediately enthusiastic exterior (vv. 20-21) that does not shift our gaze.

Instead, the different tide comes so that we learn to fix our gaze within, elsewhere, and beyond - to focus on our own and others' 'unique figure' in the conviviality of differences.

It is likely that the knowledge or lifestyle we would like to reaffirm is still linked to standards, whether welcome, old-fashioned or à la page - now inadequate to provide new answers to new questions.

And perhaps all this has led us too much to follow and imitate the disqualified 'having-appearing', instead of being, and that precious character at the centre of our Calling by Name.

It is not impossible that we have allowed ourselves to become accustomed to decision-making nomenclatures or to rushing due to performance anxiety.

These do not take into account the 'beautiful terrain' of uniqueness, of the unprecedented gift of vocation [which would lead to better contact with the unfulfilled energies of our genuine inclination - nestled among inconsistencies].

Instead, we are all preoccupied with concerns about restoring things 'as they were' or 'as they should be'...

This is despite the fact that the current traumas are explicit signals to broaden the awareness that has been stifled until now (as if by 'brambles': v.22).

Eloquent appeals - even contemporary ones - to launch every side towards the Exodus, for the conquest of renewed freedoms; territories of the soul, though hidden, at the core of our essence.

All the influence of an empty and formal spirituality that we carry with us still inhibits a good perception of today, and unnerves us, taking away our inner strength.

It does not allow us to follow our own impulse in harmony with the inner world - or the same tendencies in listening to the incessant Call of the Gospels [which is still disseminated by non-approved prophets, to proclaim the truth and the creation of an alternative world].

Well, something or our whole life could be confused; more than ever, we are not going in the right and clear direction: we are not making ourselves special as the Sower would like - precisely because of the stereotypes or emotional voids that steal the Seed, or suffocate the plant, or because of the usual presumption that wants to return to towering immediately and thus prevents us from putting down deep 'roots'.

We will then have to put aside our mental turmoil and unilateral volitional turmoil; make room and give in to the new current of quality that is carrying us.

And surrender to the proposals of the tide of 'grains that come' to guide us beyond the old disputes: to the natural, original energy of Providence, which knows more than we do.

To the Wind of the Spirit that unfolds beyond, the grains - where you least expect them - it does not matter what percentage is productive (v.23b) but our 'beautiful' harmony (v.23a Greek text) that helps to bring us back to the reality of far-sighted mixtures.

They will reorder everything in a different way: beyond habitual mental systems - and every result will be more prudent, in favour of the Peripheries.

Without too much disposition and calculation in the choice of terrain [once pretentiously removed and sanitised upstream], we will realise that the Sower will have finally crumbled many worldly pedestals; not to humiliate anyone, but to give surprises of astonishing fertility, even for the growth of every creed (all denominations).

His is always and everywhere a generous and exceptionally creative Action, put in place to regenerate and empower convictions.

Not to make us repeat the usual actions or clichés from the manual [and start playing with performance again, or with the narrow confines of widely approved patterns].If we want to synchronise ourselves with the movement of the Sower, we must move with Him and like Him towards the poverty of the various soils (existential situations).

A special narrowness - even more acute in times of global emergency - that forces us to 'move', to become itinerant, to scatter everywhere.

And not just to gather the 'hundred' (v. 23) in the usual protected 'centre'.

The Lord scatters the seed of the word of God freely and with abundance but knowing that it may fall on poor soil, which will not allow a seed to mature because of dryness, or that its vital force may be extinguished, choked by thorn bushes. Yet the sower does not lose heart, for he knows that part of this seed is destined to find "good soil", namely, ardent hearts capable of receiving the word with willingness to help it mature through perseverance and yield fruit generously for the benefit of many. 

The image of the soil can evoke the reality of the family, on the whole good; the sometimes arid and harsh environment of work; the days of suffering and tears. The earth is above all the heart of every person, especially of youth, to whom you address your service of listening and guidance: a heart that is often confused and disoriented, yet capable of containing unimaginable powers of generosity. It is like a bud ready to open to a life spent for the love of Jesus, able to follow him with the totality and the certainty that comes from having found the greatest treasure that exists. It is always and only the Lord who sows in human hearts. Only after the abundant and generous sowing of the word of God can one progress further along the paths of companionship and education, of formation and discernment. All this is linked to that tiny seed, the mysterious gift of divine Providence which releases from within an extraordinary force. In fact, it is the Word of God who brings about in himself what he says and desires.

[Pope Benedict, to participants at the European conference on vocational pastoral care, 4 July 2009]

5. “Behold, the sower went forth to sow” (Mt 13:3).

The Incarnation of the Word is the greatest and truest “sowing” of the Father. At the end of time, the harvest will take place: man will then be subjected to God’s judgement. Having received much, much will be asked of him.

Man is responsible not only for himself, but also for other creatures. He is responsible in a global sense: in fact, their fate in time and beyond time is linked to him. If he obeys the Creator's plan and conforms to it, he leads the whole of creation into the kingdom of freedom, just as he dragged it with him into the kingdom of corruption because of his original disobedience. This is what St Paul meant to tell us today in the second reading.

His discourse is mysterious, but fascinating. By welcoming Christ, humanity is able to bring a flow of new life into creation. Without Christ, the cosmos itself pays the consequences of humanity's refusal to freely adhere to the plan of divine salvation. For our hope and that of all creatures, Christ has sown in the human heart a seed of new and immortal life. A seed of salvation that gives creation a new direction: the glory of the Kingdom of God.

[Pope John Paul II, homily at S. Stefano di Cadore, 11 July 1993]

When Jesus spoke, he used simple words and he also used images which were examples taken from daily life, in order to be easily understood by all. This is why they listened to him willingly and appreciated his message which directly touched their heart. And it was not that complicated language which was difficult to understand, as that used by the Doctors of the Law of that time, which was not easily understood, was very rigid and distanced people. And with this language Jesus made the mystery of the Kingdom of God understood; it was not complicated theology. And one example is that of today’s Gospel passage: the parable of the sower (cf. Mt 13:1-23).

The sower is Jesus. With this image, we can see that he presents himself as one who does not impose himself, but rather offers himself. He does not attract us by conquering us, but by donating himself: he casts seeds. With patience and generosity, he spreads his Word, which is not a cage or a trap, but a seed which can bear fruit. And how can it bear fruit? If we welcome it.

Therefore, the parable concerns us especially. In fact, it speaks more of the soil than of the sower. Jesus carries out, so to speak, a “spiritual X-ray” of our heart, which is the soil on which the seed of the Word falls. Our heart, like the soil, may be good and then the Word bears fruit — and a great deal — but it can also be hard and impermeable. This happens when we hear the Word but it bounces off of us, just as on a street: it does not enter.

Between the good soil and the street; the asphalt — if we throw a seed on the “sanpietrini” (cobblestones), nothing grows — there are however, two intermediate types of soil which, in different amounts, we can have within us. The first, Jesus says, isrocky. Let us try to imagine it: rocky ground is a terrain that “does not have much soil” (cf. Mt 13:5), so the seed sprouts but is unable to put down deep roots. This is how the superficial heart is: it welcomes the Lord, wants to pray, love and bear witness, but does not persevere; it becomes tired and never “takes off”. It is a heart without depth, where the rocks of laziness prevail over the good soil, where love is fickle and fleeting. But whoever welcomes the Lord only when they want to does not bear fruit.

Then, there is the last ground, the thorny one, filled with briars which choke the good plants. What do these thorns represent? “The cares of the world and the delight in riches” (v. 22), as Jesus says explicitly. The thorns are the vices which come to blows with God, which choke his presence: above all these are the idols of worldly wealth, living avidly, for oneself, for possessions and for power. If we cultivate these thorns, we choke God’s growth within us. Each of us can recognize his or her big or small thorns, the vices that inhabit the heart, those more or less deeply rooted briars that God does not like and that prevent us from having a clean heart. It is necessary to tear them out, otherwise the Word cannot bear fruit, the seed will not grow.

Dear brothers and sisters, Jesus invites us today to look inside ourselves: to give thanks for our good soil and to tend the soil that is not yet good. Let us ask ourselves if our heart is open to welcome the seed of the Word of God with faith. Let us ask ourselves if our rocks of laziness are still numerous and large; let us identify our thorns of vice and call them by name. Let us find the courage to reclaim the soil, to effect a nice conversion of our heart, bringing to the Lord in Confession and in prayer our rocks and our thorns. In doing this, Jesus, the Good Sower will be glad to carry out an additional task: purify our hearts by removing the rocks and the thorns which choke his Word.

[Pope Francis, Angelus, 16 July 2017]

Action of the Risen One

(Lk 8:1-3)

The rabbis did not accept women into their schools, because they were considered not up to the task.

But Jesus does not come to teach laws or philosophies, vice versa to gather around Him the despised and non-persons of all times.

In Christ each one opens himself to hope. Who was considered as worthless proclaims and bears witness to God’s love for the little ones and the least.

All with delicacy, and here are the female figures: fidelity takes over. 

In women, piety arises spontaneously [it is not conceived as for us males: immediately to the goal and source of gain].

With them also vanishes the anxiety of performance that accompanies men, who also on the ‘good’ must immediately appear setting up platforms and défilé; be all noticed, cultivate public and private relations that matter, and make career over it.

Jesus conquers the hearts of women because He understands their generosity, the depth of feelings, the capacity for dedication and personal relationship, the extreme gift of self; sensitivity, Faith-love, patience, meekness, generosity, capacity for fatigue and suffering.

Instead of "killing" time, women fill it thoroughly.

Jesus does not want a humanity aimed at being appreciated more than “hiding”, inclined to speak more than to ‘perceive’; willingly inclined to organize-plan more than to meditate - and to sense the depth of our Roots.

The prevalence or balance of the female aspect is an appropriate counterweight to a world prone to dirigisme and the exercise of the will, rather than to the cultivation of sons’ feelings.

Happy is that vocation accompanied by the intensity, depth, delicacy, ability to wait and at the same time consistency to the principles - and participation in destiny - typical aspects of female sensitivity and the world of consecrated women.

[Perhaps that of Mary, Joan, Susannah and many others of the early days was a role comparable to that of Martha in the family of Bethany, coordinator of the community of only sisters and brothers].

In Lk, the story of women expresses the action of the Risen One. He accepts them as followers and disciples.

In the female figures we read in filigree the story of humanity that in Christ rises and assumes dignity.

Nation that becomes fraternal in pain, prepares nourishment (instead of taking it away), persists, struggles and in this action becomes even an icon of prayer.

It is a model of dedication and self-giving [instead of calculation and cunning] - ready for life, and type of the Announcement; treasure that unleashes the Spirit.

Jesus on his way with the Twelve (v.1) still has a long journey to go today in the magic of the feminine - who knows how to welcome the person and listen to events, always being on the field.

Women learn from their essence, so they know how to attract, they know the indispensable things, they understand where and how to proceed, they are present in the present - and without dominating, they solve problems.

They are not afraid of losing “position”.

To internalize and live the message:

Do you feel called to a spiritual synthesis of personalities, with all the virtue and completeness that springs from a more complete character?

[Friday 24th wk. in O.T.  September 18, 2026]

(Lk 8:1-3)

The rabbis did not accept women in their schools, because they were considered not up to the task.

But Jesus does not come to teach laws or philosophies, but to gather around himself the despised and the non-people of all times.

In Christ, everyone is opened to hope. Those considered worthless proclaim and witness God's love for the little ones and the least.

All with delicacy, and here are the female figures: the narcissism of the masquerade is replaced by fidelity.

In women, piety arises spontaneously (it is not conceived as it is for us males: immediately at the goal and a source of gain).

With them also vanishes the performance anxiety that accompanies men, who also on the good must immediately appear by setting up platforms and défilés; be noticed, cultivate public and private relations that count, and make a career out of it. A syndrome still well established.

Jesus conquers women's hearts because he understands their generosity, their depth of feeling, their capacity for dedication and personal relationships, for extreme self-giving; sensitivity, faith-love, patience, meekness, generosity, the capacity for effort and suffering.

Each of us can testify to the importance of these notes that are often unknown to the scrounging world of the entitled, who go straight to cutting and separating, organising instead of welcoming, judging instead of dialoguing, believing themselves to be someone at all costs - often setting up childish lies.

Or for those who prefer to wallow in tavern life, to waste time frittering it away or just for themselves, rather than use it well and treasure it: instead of 'killing it', women fill it to the brim.

Jesus does not want a humanity inclined to be appreciated more than to concealment, inclined to talk more than to perceive; inclined to organise-planning more than to meditate - and to sense the depth of our Roots.

The prevalence or balance of the feminine aspect is an opportune counterbalance to a 'Christian' world... in the West unbalanced on the masculine: prone to dirigisme and the exercise of the will rather than the cultivation of childlike feeling.

Happy that vocation that is accompanied by intensity, depth, delicacy, the ability to wait and at the same time coherence to principles (never sold out to the highest bidder) and participation in destiny - typical aspects of feminine sensitivity and the world of consecrated women.

Having received personal grace from an aunt and cousins who were nuns [as well as the gift of spectacular female memories similar to Mary of Nazareth in the family], I suspect that Lk's brushstroke bears witness to the fundamental weight of women even as managers, coordinators, supporters and sensitive animators of the first fraternal realities and assemblies of followers.

Perhaps that of Mary, Joan, Susanna, Peter's mother-in-law and many others in the early days was a role comparable to that of Martha in the family of Bethany.

Unfortunately, later ecclesiastical convention failed to give weight to the unquestionable fact of women's discipleship, flattening out to male discipleship - a disvalue that we are beginning to pay for in an obvious way (but it is a grace: nothing would move otherwise).

In Lk, the women's story expresses the action of the Risen One.

He accepts them as followers and disciples. In the female figures we read in watermark the story of humanity that in Christ rises up and assumes dignity - instead of being further harassed.

It becomes fraternal in pain (instead of only in victory), it prepares nourishment (instead of taking it away), it persists without mannerism.

It is the Church of authentic struggle, from within, and in such acting with frankness it even becomes an icon of prayer - instead of keeping to the minimum and doing a lot of diplomacy, then manipulating the naive, and only showing off.

It is fraternity, i.e. concrete solidarity; a model of dedication and self-giving, instead of calculation and cunning (ways of subterfuge; contrived, deliberate).

Women ready for life. Type of the Announcement: Treasure unleashing the Spirit that conversely males want to cunningly keep for themselves - to master it, making it one-sided.

The Jesus on the road with the Twelve (v.1) still has a long way to go, precisely in our realities consolidated by traditions that are considered unquestionable, but narrow, stubborn, stifling, puerile and deaf.

They remain on the surface, thus blocking the expressions of life.

The magic of the feminine, on the other hand, knows how to welcome the individual and listen to events, always being in the field to realise what characterises us.

Women learn from their essence, so they know how to attract, they know what is needed, they understand where and how to proceed, they are present in the present - and without overseeing, they solve problems.

They do not fear losing 'position'.

To internalise and live the message:

Would you rather be spiritually accompanied by a woman or a man? Why?Does pastoral work that is languishing, in your opinion, have anything to do with unilateral chains of command, in which you fear losing 'position'?

Do you also feel called to a spiritual synthesis of personalities, with all the virtue and completeness that comes from a varied nature?