16th Sunday in O.T. (year C) [20 July 2025]

May God bless us and the Virgin protect us! For those who can, summer is a time when we can devote more time to listening to the Word and praying for those who are so immersed in their worries that they believe they have no time to pray.

*First Reading from the Book of Genesis (18:1-10)

Mambré is an inhabitant of the land of Canaan who, on several occasions, offered hospitality to Abraham in his oak grove (near the present-day city of Hebron). We know that oak trees were sacred to the Canaanites. This story recounts an apparition of God in the grove belonging to Mambré. But, in reality, this is not the first time that God has spoken to Abraham. Since chapter 12, the book of Genesis has told us about God's repeated appearances and promises to Abraham. But, for the moment, nothing has happened yet, and Abraham and Sarah are about to die without children. It is often said that God chose a people, but in reality, God first chose a man—and, moreover, a man without children. And it was to this man without a future (at least according to human criteria) that God made an unprecedented promise: "I will make you a great nation... All the families of the earth will be blessed in you" (Gen 12:2-3). To this old, sterile man, he said: "Count the stars, if you can... So shall your descendants be." Based solely on this seemingly impossible promise, Abraham decided to stake his entire life. Abraham did not doubt that God would keep his word, but he was well aware of the obvious obstacle: he and Sarah were sterile, or at least they believed themselves to be, since at the ages of seventy-five and sixty-five they were still childless. Abraham had imagined solutions: God promised me descendants, but, after all, my servant is like a son to me. "Lord God, what will you give me? I am going away childless, and the heir of my house is Eliezer of Damascus" (Gen 15:2). But God refused: 'This man shall not be your heir, but one born to you shall be your heir' (Gen 15:4). A few years later, when God spoke again of that birth, Abraham could not help but laugh (Gen 17:17); then he thought of another solution: it could be my real son, Ishmael, the one I had from my union (authorised by Sarah) with Hagar. "Can a man of a hundred years old have a son? And can Sarah, who is ninety years old, still give birth? ... May Ishmael live before you!" But once again God refused: "No! Your wife Sarah will bear you a son, and you shall call him Isaac" (Gen 17:19). A promise is a promise. The passage we read this Sunday presupposes this long history of a twenty-five-year covenant, according to the Bible. The event takes place near the oak of Mamre. Three men appeared to Abraham and accepted his hospitality. Let us stop here. Contrary to what one might think, the central point of the text is not the generous hospitality offered by Abraham! At that time, in that civilisation, it was nothing extraordinary, however exemplary it might have been. The author's message, what arouses his admiration and prompts him to write in order to pass it on to future generations, is much greater! The unthinkable has happened: for the first time in human history, God himself has become a guest of a man! No one doubts that the three distinguished visitors represent God. Reading the text is a little difficult for us, because it is not clear whether there is only one visitor or more than one: Abraham looked up and saw three men... he said: My Lord, if I have found favour in your eyes... go and fetch some water, wash your feet... I will fetch a morsel of bread and you can refresh yourselves... Where is Sarah, your wife? I will return to you in a year's time... your wife will have a son. In reality, the author wrote this much later, based on different accounts. He combined all these sources into one, harmonising everything as much as possible. And because he wanted to avoid any appearance of polytheism, he took care to reiterate several times that there is only one God. At the time, the author could not have imagined that this was the Trinity, but Abraham certainly recognised the divine presence in those three visitors without hesitation. God, therefore – for it is undoubtedly Him – made Himself a guest in Abraham's house. And to tell him what? To confirm the unheard-of plan He had for him: next year, at this same time, old Sarah will have a son. And from this son would be born a people who would be the instrument of divine blessing. Sarah, who was eavesdropping behind the curtain, could not help but laugh: they were both so old, and the traveller replied with a phrase that we should never forget: 'Is anything too hard for the Lord?' (Gen 18:14). And the impossible happened: Isaac was born, the first link in the promised lineage, as numerous as the stars in the sky.

*Responsorial Psalm (14/15, 1a. 2-3a, 3bc-4ab, 4d-5)

The psalms were all composed to accompany a liturgical action during pilgrimages and feasts at the Temple in Jerusalem, and the Psalter could be compared to the hymnals we find in our churches. Here, the pilgrim arrives at the gates of the Temple and asks the question: am I worthy to enter? The answer is found in the Book of Leviticus: 'Be holy, because I am holy' (19:2), and this psalm draws the consequences: those who wish to enter the Temple (the 'house' of God) must behave in a manner worthy of the holy God. 'Who shall dwell on your holy mountain? (v. 1) The answer is simple: "He who walks blamelessly, practises justice and speaks the truth that is in his heart" (v. 2), and the following verses clarify this: be righteous, be true, do no wrong to anyone. Ultimately, all this recalls the Decalogue (Ex 20) and the identikit of the righteous man drawn up by Ezekiel (Ez 18:5-9). Micah takes up the question of our psalm exactly and develops it (Mic 6:6-8), as does his contemporary Isaiah (Is 33:15-16). A little later, Zechariah also feels the need to repeat it (Zech 8:16-17). Reading these texts, which I am only mentioning but which are worth meditating on, we understand how essential it is to wait for the intervention of the One who can transform our hearts of stone into hearts of flesh, as Ezekiel says. Everything helps us to reread this psalm by applying it to Jesus, whom the Gospels describe as 'meek and humble of heart' (Mt 11:29), attentive to the excluded: lepers (Mk 1), the adulterous woman (Jn 8), the sick and demon-possessed, Jews and pagans. Jesus is completely foreign to the logic of profit and does not even have a place to lay his head. Jesus helps us to re-read verse 3: "He does not slander with his tongue, he does not harm his neighbour, he does not cast insults at his neighbour," giving it a new dimension and teaching us in the parable of the Good Samaritan that the circle of our "neighbours" can be expanded to infinity. Verse 4: "The wicked are despicable in his eyes" may seem out of place amid all these beautiful sentiments: but it probably indicates a commitment to fidelity because the "wicked" are the unfaithful, the idolaters, and the pilgrim must reject all forms of idolatry, for which reason fidelity to the one God has been a constant struggle in Israel. Finally, the reference to the demands of the Covenant is a catechesis addressed to pilgrims, not a condition for entering the Temple, because otherwise no one could ever have entered except Jesus of Nazareth, the only Holy One.

*Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Colossians (1:24-28)

"I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I complete what is lacking in Christ's afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church." How are we to understand the first sentence of this text? Is there something lacking in Christ's sufferings? Or are there other sufferings that we must endure in order to "compensate" in some way? In truth, there are still sufferings to endure, as Paul affirms, but it is not a matter of completing a measure. It is not the result of a divine demand, but rather a necessity due to the hardness of the human heart. What remains to be suffered are the difficulties, opposition, and even persecution that every work of evangelisation encounters. Jesus said this clearly, both before and after his Passion and Resurrection. If the Son of Man had to suffer greatly, rejected by the elders, the chief priests and the scribes, put to death and rise again on the third day (cf. Lk 9:22), a similar fate would befall his disciples: They will deliver you to courts and synagogues, you will be beaten, you will appear before governors and kings because of me, and this will be an opportunity for you to bear witness, but first, the Gospel must be proclaimed to all nations (cf. Mk 13:9-10). The warning is that until the mission is accomplished, the disciple must continue to labour, face difficulties, even persecution, certainly not by divine decree, as if God desired the suffering of his children and counted their tears, because such an assumption would distort the image of the God of tenderness and compassion that Moses himself had already discovered. For Paul, there are two characteristics that qualify the disciple of Christ: imitation of the suffering divine Master and proclamation of the 'mystery' (v. 26). The first characteristic is described in this difficult opening verse, and St Augustine applies this participation in the sufferings of Christ to all Christians who suffer so that the whole community may be purified from evil. The second characteristic is proclamation, the missionary commitment whose content is 'the mystery', that is, the plan of salvation revealed in Christ. For the work of evangelisation, God calls collaborators because he does not want to act without us. However, the world refuses to listen to the Word and resists with all its might the spread of the Gospel, an opposition that goes as far as persecuting and suppressing the martyrs, who are inconvenient witnesses. This is exactly what Paul is experiencing, imprisoned for speaking too much about Jesus of Nazareth. In his letters to the young Christian communities, he often encourages his readers to accept, in turn, the inevitable persecution (cf. 1 Thess 3:3). Peter also says the same thing: "Resist, standing firm in the faith, knowing that the same sufferings are being experienced by your brothers and sisters throughout the world" (1 Pet 5:9-10).  Therefore, we must not give up and we must proclaim Christ, despite everything, "admonishing everyone and teaching them with all wisdom, so that we may present everyone perfect in Christ" (v. 28). Christ began the work of proclamation, and it is our task to bring it to completion. In this way, the Church grows little by little as the Body of Christ. In the First Letter to the Corinthians (1 Cor 12), the image of the body was used to speak of the harmony among the members within each local Church. Here, however, Paul's vision broadens and contemplates the universal Church, the great body of which Christ is the head. This mystery, God's plan, has been revealed to Christians and becomes for them an inexhaustible source of joy and hope: "Christ in you, him, the hope of glory!" (v. 27) and it is the amazement at the presence of Christ in their midst that transforms believers into witnesses. Then we understand better the opening sentence of today's text: I find joy in the sufferings I endure for you, for what is lacking in Christ's sufferings, I complete in my flesh, for the sake of his body, which is the Church.

*From the Gospel according to Luke (10:38-42)

"Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well" (Mt 6:33): this is perhaps the best commentary on Jesus' lesson in the house of Martha and Mary, a story exclusive to the evangelist Luke that immediately follows the parable of the Good Samaritan. Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem with his disciples, an opportunity for him to give them many instructions, offering points of reference to help them remain faithful to their vocation to follow him. He first recommended to his disciples on mission that they accept hospitality (cf. Lk 9:4; 10:5-9) and now he willingly enters this house in Bethany, which he knew well. We should avoid contrasting Martha, the active one, with Mary, the contemplative one, because the evangelist seems rather to focus on the disciples' relationship with the Lord, as can be seen from the context and the repetition of the term 'Lord', which appears three times: Mary sat at the Lord's feet... Martha said, 'Lord, don't you care? The Lord answered her... The insistent use of this term indicates that the relationship described by Luke between Jesus and the two sisters, Martha and Mary, should not be judged according to human criteria of 'good behaviour', but according to what the Master wishes to teach his disciples. Here he invites us to discern what is the 'better part', that is, the essential and indispensable attitude in the life and mission of Christians. The two women welcome the Lord with all their attention: Martha is absorbed in many tasks related to serving, Mary entertains the guest by listening to him and does not miss a word. It cannot be said that one is active and the other contemplative: both, in their own way, are totally focused on him. The evangelist focuses on Jesus who is speaking, even though we are not told what he is saying, while Mary, 'sitting at the Lord's feet', listens with the attitude of a disciple, allowing herself to be taught (cf. Is 50). Martha protests: 'Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to serve you alone? Tell her to help me'. And here Jesus utters a phrase that has caused much ink to flow: "Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things." Jesus does not reproach Martha for her desire to welcome him well because, in the culture of hospitality (especially in the East), hospitality meant preparing a good meal: "kill the fatted calf." Martha's agitation and restlessness inspire Jesus to give a lesson that is useful for all his disciples because it goes to the heart of the matter: "Only one thing is needed," that is, everything is useful if we do not forget "the better part," that is, the essential. In life, we must all be both Martha and Mary, but we must be careful not to confuse our priorities. Jesus will take up this lesson again later, in a more extensive way (Lk 12:22-32), which, however, the liturgy does not always propose. I would therefore like to recall it here: "Do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear. Life is worth more than food, and the body more than clothing... Now, if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you, people of little faith! Therefore, do not seek what you will eat or drink, and do not be anxious. It is the pagans of the world who seek all these things, but your Father knows that you need them. Seek rather his Kingdom, and all the rest will be given to you in addition." Jesus warns us against the risk that our daily concerns will prevent us from listening to his word, which is "the better part". In dedicating ourselves to service like Martha, we must avoid forgetting that it is always God who takes care of us and not the other way around. We can paraphrase Jesus' words as follows: Martha, you are busy and agitated in welcoming me, doing many useful things, but the best way is to know that it is I who want to do things for you, so listen to me.

+ Giovanni D'Ercole

(Jn 20:1-2.11-18)

Mk tells of a young man dressed in white, Mt of an angel, Lk of two men dressed in white, Jn of two angels.

The stories on the annunciation and on the heralds of the Resurrection do not fit together according to our way of telling.

To avoid a limited view on the victory of Life, it’s appropriate to understand that we are not celebrating an apparition of the Risen One, but his Manifestation  [Greek text].

He doesn’t appear only to some - to others He doesn’t: manifests itself. We experience Him.

And there is a new Creation: now we don’t recognize Jesus when we see, but when we listen Him (v.16).

The Lord makes himself seen not in the moment of the vision, but in the time of the Word, of the personal Appeal that «turns» the gaze from the irrelevant direction of travel that clings to the image of "yesterday".

The experience of the living Christ excludes the memories to be kept crying.

It’s a current and well-founded relationship, convincing, multifaceted and accessible - direct.

The very observance of ancient law [v.1: in the particular case, the sabbath] seems to delay the experience of the disruptive force of rebirth, in the Spirit.

Gradually, in the communities those personal primordial energies were being reactivated that not even the blackmail, intimidation and marginalization of the institutional apparatus could touch.

The faithful were on the virtuous and exciting wave of a further fundamental change: now they felt «brothers» of the Risen One (v.17).

The ‘discipleship’ relation (Jn 13:13) growing in ‘friendship’ (Jn 15,15) were becoming that of the blood relatives who felt they were ‘sons’.

[Jn 1,11-12: «He came among his own, and his own did not welcome him. But to those who received him he gave them power to become sons of God; to those who believe in his Name» - that is: adhering to all his word, story and action; also problematic, painful, denouncing].

Thus began the explicit Announcement, despite the fact that the truly vital and increasingly determined part of the "church" proved to be that wich was peripheral and came from the pagans [in the figure of Mary Magdalene].

Woman: authentic Assembly in the Spirit.

An endless field of humiliated people, who nevertheless in the Risen Christ «see themselves within» and are unblocked; by acquiring new breath, overcoming discouragement, disorientation, uncertainty.

Even today, the search for our Guide can also arise from the sense of loss, or from the beatings suffered - but it’s marked by Easter encounters and stages of new awareness.

New Listens, which break the reassurances. The Risen is a radical novelty: a wound inside and an impulse.

Only in the experience of ‘being reborn by transmitting Him’, is the Spirit unleashed that thrills and charges - and the Living One does not remain a stranger or someone of whom we have already made up an idea.

There is an unprecedented situation.

But who notices? In spite of the neglect they suffer, only the bridal souls catch it - the very ones who are disregarded.

[st Mary Magdalene, July 22]

Fossilised in reminiscences, or Announced by Brethren

(Jn 20:1-2.11-18)

"In those days, in Israel, the testimony of women could not have official, juridical value, but women experienced a special bond with the Lord, which is fundamental for the concrete life of the Christian community, and this always, in every age, not only at the beginning of the Church's journey" [Pope Benedict, Regina Coeli 9 April 2012].

Mk tells of a young man dressed in white, Mt of an angel, Lk of two men dressed in white, Jn of two angels.

The accounts of the annunciation and the heralds of the resurrection do not fit together according to our way of telling.

In order to avoid a limited view of the victory of Life, it should be understood that we are not celebrating the week of the apparitions of the Risen One, but of his Manifestations [Greek text].

He does not just appear to some - to others he does not (depending on the lottery): he Manifests himself. We experience him.

And there is a new Creation: now one does not recognise Jesus when one sees him, but when one hears him (v.16).

The Lord makes Himself seen not in the moment of vision, but in the time of the Word, of the personal call that makes one "turn" the ancient gaze from the irrelevant direction that clings to the image of "yesterday".

The experience of the living Christ excludes memories to be wept over.

It is current and grounded, convincing, multifaceted and accessible - direct. Definitely better than that offered later by the apostles, without pierced hearts (or proclamations).

But the face-to-face still remained closed, to the extent that one seemed to be looking for deceased or distant museum pieces - to be found almost as before and at best kept without too many shocks.

Conditioned by too 'usual' expectations, we would pretend to trace Jesus to the wrong campsites and places. But in Jn the Ascension is placed on the same day as Easter (v.17).

The very observance of archaic religious law [v.1: in the particular case, the Sabbath] seems to delay the experience of the disruptive power of rebirth, in the Spirit.

Gradually, those primordial personal energies were being reactivated in the early communities that not even the blackmail, intimidation and marginalisation of the institutional apparatus could touch.

The Incarnation was continuing, unfolding in the believers; awakening in them new creative states.

The believers were on the virtuous and exciting wave of a further fundamental change: they now felt themselves to be 'brothers' of the Risen One (v.17).

The relationship of 'discipleship' (Jn 13:13) grown into 'friendship' (Jn 15:15) became that of kinsmen who felt like 'sons'.

[Jn 1:11-12: "He came among his own, and his own received him not. But to those who received him he gave power to become children of God; to those who believe in his Name" - that is, they adhere to his entire word, event and action; even problematic, painful, denunciation].

Thus began the explicit proclamation, despite the fact that the part of the 'church' that was really vital and increasingly determined proved to be the peripheral and from the pagans [in the figure of Mary Magdalene].

It wanted the reviving redemption, and thus pointed the right way to the assembly leaders themselves.

The Judeo-Christian community of the apostles was in fact all out for compromise with the distant and conflicting religious institution, that of power, which had wanted to destroy the Master.

The 'apostolic' hard core always lags behind and needs to be evangelised: only she who feels she is a nothing (vv.2.18) converts him. And when she becomes aware that the reign of dead things will no longer greet her.

Woman: Authentic assembly in the Spirit.

A boundless field of the humiliated, which nevertheless in the Risen Christ "sees itself" and is unblocked; it acquires new breath, overcomes discouragement, disorientation, uncertainty.

Still filled with Infinity, like pilgrims, dreamers from below and from the periphery seek their way.

They activate themselves with passion, to rekindle and resonate every fold of the human being - previously commanded by a world of calculated alternatives.

It is again the experience of "Mary of Magdala", who, by gaining confidence, can complete the perceptions and thoughts of even the top of the class.

The Risen One is always somewhere else... than what the expert or an average religious soul not ready for change expects.

His Person has unforeseen, unconventional and unconventional physiognomies - like life, all to be discovered.

They are unseen profiles - to be grasped and internalised, sometimes almost without struggle.

Only a call by name - his direct Word, the personal Appeal - makes us realise that by external influence we were perhaps chasing a Lord [of the past, or fashionable] too recognisable, to be commemorated as before.

To be carried in our saddlebags as always, with closed and normal love, the child of sorrow.The search for our Rabbuni may also arise from a sense of loss, or from the beatings suffered - but it is marked by Easter encounters and stages of new awareness.

New hearings, which shatter reassurances.

He remains a lukewarm stranger - at room temperature - for those who allow themselves to be influenced by limited (packaged) ideas and pretend to understand him with knowledge, recognise him with their eyes, or use him as a sleeping pill.

The Risen One is radical novelty: wounded within and impetus. A journey that welcomes and takes on the whole of humanity and history.

He acts in us by shattering all security; the very security that still does not let us out of the small circle.

And while labouring in the tension of the ungraspable [which cannot be made one's own] it is in the emotion of perceiving the treasures of atypical and personal intuitions that regenerated life attracts and opens wide, amazes.

It is only in the experience of being reborn by passing it on that the Spirit is unleashed and charged - and the Living One does not remain a stranger or someone of whom one has already had an idea.

"I have sought and seen the Lord!" [v.18: sense of the Greek text].

One does not experience Christ with intimism, nor with reminiscences and trinkets; not even in a cerebral way or by being content to fulfil pious memorial offices on the body.

There is an unprecedented situation.

But who notices? In spite of the neglect they endure, only the soulless - the disregarded.

To internalise and live the message:

What transmutation took place in you and your neighbour when you accepted the Call and the invitation to the Announcement?

How did the Person of Christ make you aware that you are fully wanted: inalienable subject, by Name?

Personal Manifestation: a law we find carved into many pages of the Gospels. But... soft happiness or wave sweeping over everything?

In these weeks our reflection moves, so to speak, in the orbit of the paschal mystery. Today we meet the one who, according to the Gospels, first saw the risen Jesus: Mary Magdalene. The Sabbath rest had recently ended. On the day of the passion, there had been no time to complete the funeral rites; therefore, in that dawn filled with sadness, the women go to Jesus' tomb with perfumed ointments. The first to arrive is her: Mary of Magdala, one of the disciples who had accompanied Jesus all the way from Galilee, putting herself at the service of the nascent Church. Her journey to the tomb mirrors the fidelity of so many women who are devoted for years to the paths of cemeteries, in memory of someone who is no longer there. The most authentic bonds are not broken even by death: there are those who continue to love, even if the loved one is gone forever.

The Gospel (cf. Jn 20:1-2, 11-18) describes Mary Magdalene by making it immediately clear that she was not a woman of easy enthusiasm. In fact, after the first visit to the tomb, she returns disappointed to the place where the disciples were hiding; she reports that the stone has been moved from the entrance of the tomb, and her first hypothesis is the simplest that can be formulated: someone must have stolen Jesus' body. So the first announcement that Mary brings is not that of the resurrection, but of a theft that unknown persons have perpetrated, while the whole of Jerusalem slept.

Then the gospels tell of a second journey of the Magdalene to Jesus' tomb. She was stubborn! She went, she returned ... because she was not convinced! This time her pace is slow, very heavy. Mary suffers doubly: first of all for the death of Jesus, and then for the inexplicable disappearance of his body.

It is while she is bending over by the tomb, her eyes full of tears, that God surprises her in the most unexpected way. The evangelist John emphasises how persistent her blindness is: she does not notice the presence of two angels questioning her, nor does she become suspicious when she sees the man behind her, whom she thinks is the guardian of the garden. Instead, she discovers the most shocking event in human history when she is finally called by name: "Mary!" (v. 16).

How beautiful it is to think that the first appearance of the Risen One - according to the gospels - happened in such a personal way! That there is someone who knows us, who sees our suffering and disappointment, and is moved by us, and calls us by name. It is a law that we find carved into many pages of the gospel. Around Jesus there are many people who seek God; but the most prodigious reality is that, much earlier, there is first of all God who cares for our lives, who wants to lift them up, and to do this he calls us by name, recognising the personal face of each one. Every man is a story of love that God writes on this earth. Each one of us is a story of God's love. Each one of us God calls by name: he knows us by name, he looks at us, he waits for us, he forgives us, he has patience with us. Is this true or not? Each one of us has this experience.

And Jesus calls her: "Mary!': the revolution of his life, the revolution destined to transform the existence of every man and woman, begins with a name that echoes in the garden of the empty tomb. The Gospels describe to us Mary's happiness: Jesus' resurrection is not a joy given with an eyedropper, but a cascade that invests one's whole life. Christian existence is not woven with soft happiness, but with waves that sweep over everything. Try to think too, right now, with the baggage of disappointments and defeats that each of us carries in our hearts, that there is a God close to us who calls us by name and says: "Get up, stop crying, because I have come to set you free!" This is beautiful.

Jesus is not one who adapts to the world, tolerating that death, sadness, hatred, the moral destruction of people endure in it... Our God is not inert, but our God - allow me the word - is a dreamer: he dreams of the transformation of the world, and he has realised it in the mystery of the Resurrection.

Mary would like to embrace her Lord, but He is now oriented to the heavenly Father, while she is sent to take the proclamation to her brothers and sisters. And so that woman, who before meeting Jesus was at the mercy of the Evil One (cf. Lk 8:2), has now become an apostle of the new and greater hope. May her intercession help us to live this experience too: in the hour of weeping, and in the hour of abandonment, listen to the Risen Jesus who calls us by name, and with a heart full of joy go and proclaim: "I have seen the Lord!" (v. 18). I have changed my life because I have seen the Lord! I am now different from before, I am a different person. I have changed because I have seen the Lord. This is our strength and this is our hope.

[Pope Francis, General Audience 17 May 2017]

The Gospel accounts that mention the appearances of the Risen One usually end with the invitation to overcome every uncertainty, to confront the event with the Scriptures, to proclaim that Jesus, beyond death, is alive for ever, a source of new life for all who believe in him.

This is what happened, for example, in the case of Mary Magdalene (cf. Jn 20: 11-18), who found the tomb open and empty and immediately feared that the body of the Lord had been taken away. The Lord then called her by name and at that point a deep change took place within her:  her distress and bewilderment were transformed into joy and enthusiasm. She promptly went to the Apostles and announced to them:  "I have seen the Lord" (Jn 20: 18).

Behold:  those who meet the Risen Jesus are inwardly transformed; it is impossible "to see" the Risen One without "believing" in him. Let us pray that he will call each one of us by name and thus convert us, opening us to the "vision" of faith.

Faith is born from the personal encounter with the Risen Christ and becomes an impulse of courage and freedom that makes one cry to the world:  "Jesus is risen and alive for ever".

This is the mission of the Lord's disciples in every epoch and also in our time:  "If, then, you have been raised with Christ", St Paul exhorts us, "seek the things that are above.... Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth" (Col 3: 1-2). This does not mean cutting oneself off from one's daily commitments, neglecting earthly realities; rather, it means reviving every human activity with a supernatural breath, it means making ourselves joyful proclaimers and witnesses of the Resurrection of Christ, living for eternity (cf. Jn 20: 25; Lk 24: 33-34).

[Pope Benedict, General Audience 19 April 2006]

On 22 July we celebrate the memorial of St Mary Magdalene, disciple of the Lord and first witness of the Resurrection. The story of St Mary of Magdala shows how decisive it is for each one of us to meet Christ personally. It is Christ who understands the human heart. It is he who can satisfy its hopes and longings and give answers to the concerns and the difficulties that humanity today faces in its daily endeavours.

[Pope John Paul II, Angelus 22 July 2001]

Today we meet the one who, according to the Gospels, was the first to see the Risen Christ: Mary Magdalene. The Sabbath had ended not long before. On the day of the Passion, there had not been enough time to complete the funeral rites. For this reason, at that sorrow-filled dawn, the women went to Jesus’ tomb with aromatic oils. The first to arrive was Mary Magdalene. She was one of the disciples who had accompanied Jesus from Galilee, putting herself at the service of the burgeoning Church. Her walk to the sepulchre mirrors the fidelity of many women who spend years in the small alleyways of cemeteries remembering someone who is no longer there. The most authentic bonds are not broken even in death: there are those who continue loving even if their loved one is gone forever.

The Gospel describes Magdalene by immediately highlighting that she was not a woman easily given to enthusiasm (cf. Jn 20:1-2, 11-18). In fact, after her visit to the sepulchre, she returns disappointed to the Apostles’ hiding place. She tells them that the stone has been removed from the entrance to the sepulchre, and her first hypothesis is the simplest that one could formulate: someone must have stolen Jesus’ body. Thus, the first announcement that Mary makes is not the one of the Resurrection, but of a theft perpetrated by persons unknown while all Jerusalem slept.

The Gospels then tell of Magdalene’s second visit to Jesus’ sepulchre. She was stubborn! She went, she returned ... because she was not convinced! This time her step is slow and very heavy. Mary suffers twice as much: first for the death of Jesus, and then for the inexplicable disappearance of his body.

It is as she is stooping near the tomb, her eyes filled with tears, that God surprises her in the most unexpected way. John the Evangelist stresses how persistent her blindness is. She does not notice the presence of the two angels who question her, and she does not become suspicious even when she sees the man behind her, whom she believes is the custodian of the garden. Instead, she discovers the most overwhelming event in the history of mankind when she is finally called by her name: “Mary!” (v. 16).

How nice it is to think that the first apparition of the Risen One — according to the Gospels — took place in such a personal way! To think that there is someone who knows us, who sees our suffering and disappointment, who is moved with us and calls us by name. It is a law which we find engraved on many pages of the Gospel. There are many people around Jesus who search for God, but the most prodigious reality is that, long before that, in the first place there is God, who is concerned about our life, who wants to raise it, and to do this, he calls us by name, recognizing the individual face of each person. Each person is a love story that God writes on this earth. Each one of us is God’s love story. He calls each of us by our name: he knows us by name; he looks at us; he waits for us; he forgives us; he is patient with us. Is this true or not true? Each of us experiences this.

And Jesus calls her: “Mary!”: the revolution of her life, the revolution destined to transform the life of every man and every woman begins with a name which echoes in the garden of the empty sepulchre. The Gospels describe Mary’s happiness. Jesus’ Resurrection is not a joy which is measured with a dropper, but a waterfall that cascades over life. Christian life is not woven of soft joys, but of waves which engulf everything. You too, try to imagine, right now, with the baggage of disappointments and failures that each of us carries in our heart, that there is a God close to us who calls us by name and says to us: ‘Rise, stop weeping, for I have come to free you!”. This is beautiful.

Jesus is not one who adapts to the world, tolerating in it the persistence of death, sadness, hatred, the moral destruction of people.... Our God is not inert, but our God — allow me to say — is a dreamer: he dreams of the transformation of the world, and accomplished it in the mystery of the Resurrection.

Mary would like to embrace her Lord, but he is already oriented towards the heavenly Father, whereas she is sent to carry the news to the brethren. And so that woman, who, before encountering Jesus, had been at the mercy of evil (cf. Lk 8:2) now becomes the Apostle of the new and greatest hope. May her intercession also help us live this experience: in times of woe and in times of abandonment, to listen to the Risen Jesus who calls us by name and, with a heart full of joy, to go forth and proclaim: “I have seen the Lord!” (v. 18). I have changed my life because I have seen the Lord! I am now different than before. I am another person. I have changed because I have seen the Lord. This is our strength and this is our hope. Thank you.

[Pope Francis, General Audience 17 May 2017]

Which road leads to the Father?

(Mt 12:38-42)

Human correspondence does not grow with the multiplication of dizzying signals. God doesn’t force the unconvinced, nor outclass with proofs; thus He earns a patrimony of love.

His authentic Church, without clamor or persuasive positions - apparently insignificant - is gathered entirely in intimate unity with her Lord.

The Queen of the South was looking for captivating solutions to enigmatic curiosities, but she could know them inside her soul and life.

Incarnation: there are no other valid signs than the events and new relationships with oneself and others - which offer the very and unheard-of Person of the Risen One, without wrappings.

The Eternal is no longer the pure transcendence of the Jews, nor the summit of the wisdom of the ancient world: the moving Sign of God is the story of Jesus alive in us.

We trust in Christ, so no more spiritual drugs that deceive us about happiness.

It’s the meaning of the new Creation: abandonment to the Spirit, but all concrete (not in a manner) and which proceeds by dragging the alternative reality.

He is the Sign unique, who frees from the many substitutes of fears’ religion, of fetters, of consolidated roles that would like to imprison the Lord in an "ally" doer of seductive miracles, immediately resolving.

Some community members seemed to want to frame the Messiah into the pattern of normal sacred and scenic expectations.

They were already getting along with the world, starting to recede, and were proving fed up...

In these "veterans" of Mt there was no sign of conversion to the idea of ​​the Son of God as a Servant, confident in dreams without prestige.

In them? No trace of a new idea - nor change of pace that could mark the end of the blatant, dehumanizing society they were used to.

There are always those who remain tied to an ideology of power. So they don't want to open their eyes except to have their senses captured in a trivial way.

For these, the Lord never reserves impressive confirmations - which would be the paradoxical validation of ancient convictions.

The only «sign» is his living Church and the Risen himself pulsating in all those who take him seriously; eg. in recoveries, healings, and impossible revaluations.

But no shortcut lightning.

Guided by the intimate Friend, we will be a single inventive humanity ‘in the Master’.

Our free and life-giving testimony will re-nourish an experience of regenerating Faith, singularly incisive.

Far more than miracles, the appeals of our essence and reality will make us recognize the call and action of God in men and in the web of history.

The Father wants his sons to produce far more astonishment and prodigies of divine-human goodness than visions and sentimentality, or magic.

The only «sign» of salvation is Christ in us, without hysterical seams; image and likeness of the new humanity.

For authentic conversion: native power - and nothing external.

[Monday 16th wk. in O.T.  July 21, 2025]

What is the Sign of the Mystery?

(Mt 12:38-42)

Jesus encounters unbelief. It comes from various forms of blindness and prejudice, or (especially in the disciples) arises from inattention.

The Lord distances himself from those who test him and from those who reject what is given by God, demanding to dictate how he should act.

The Son of Man respects every person who follows him, but he makes it clear that decisions and, even more so, a lack of acute perception prevent the Encounter and the redemption of life.

From this perspective, believers do not live to 'prove' anything. Christ himself does not wait for us in subliminal and amazing manifestations, but on the shore of an earthly spirituality.

Value does not need applause (a double-edged sword) - a mask for artificial proposals and inauthentic life.

Humanising correspondence does not grow with the multiplication of dizzying signals.

God does not coerce the unconvinced, nor does he overwhelm with proof; in this way, he gains a heritage of Love in growth.

His authentic Church, without clamour or persuasive positions - apparently insignificant - is gathered in intimate unity with his Firstborn: native, portentous and regenerating power - solid and real.

The queen of the south sought captivating solutions to enigmatic curiosities, but she could find them within her soul and in her life.

Incarnation: there are no other valid signs than events and new relationships - with oneself and with others - which present the very Person and unheard-of nature of the Risen One (the one without wrappings).

The Eternal One is no longer the pure transcendence of the Jews, nor the summit of the wisdom of the ancient world.

The sign of the Most High is the story of Jesus (alive in us). It opens the exciting path that leads to the Father.

Let us trust in Christ, therefore, and reject spiritual drugs that delude us with happiness.

This is the meaning of the new Creation: abandonment to the Spirit - but in a concrete way (not in a mannered way) - which proceeds by drawing along an alternative reality.

His Person is a unique sign that frees us from the many surrogates of the religion of fears, shackles and established roles.

These are those who would like to imprison him as an 'ally' who performs seductive and immediately decisive miracles.

Some would like to see him as a simple purifier of the temple or a character from a fairy tale - and so would we, if we allow ourselves to be manipulated.

In fact, the religious leaders to whom Jesus addresses himself are those returning to his communities!

They were Judaizers who wanted to fit the Messiah into the pattern of normal expectations to which they had always been accustomed.

Or they already understood and were fed up...

In these 'veterans' there was no sign of conversion to the idea of the Son of God as a Servant, trusting in dreams without prestige.

In them? There was no trace of a new idea - nor any change of pace that would mark the decline of the ostentatious, dehumanising - and even sacred - society of the outside world.

Popular leaders sometimes miss the meaning of the only living Sign: Jesus, the Bread of Life.

Because of them, not because of those who are far away, the Lord 'groans in spirit' (cf. Mk 8:12, Greek text) - even today, saddened by so much blindness.

Life is in fact precluded to those who cannot shift their gaze.

Immediately after Mt (16:6), he refers to the danger of the dominant ideology that caused even the leaders to lose their objective perception of events.

A coarse "leaven" but rooted in the painful experience of the people - which stimulated swelling even in the disciples, contaminating them.

To the top of the class, it might have seemed that Jesus was a leader like Moses, because he fed the hungry people in the desert (cf. Mt 14:13-21; 15:32-39).

But the rejection is clear: especially Mark (8:12) brings it to life by emphasising the Master's sense of suffering.

Then, as in Matthew and Luke in the episode of Jonah, there is his radical, peremptory refusal.

To save a people in need of everything, there is no other way than to start from within.

Then proceed towards a fullness of being that spreads, approves us, and, flowing out, allows us to break our lives in favour of our brothers and sisters.

There is no escape. Only communion with the hidden source of one's own eminent Self and respectful and active dialogue with others can save us from a closed group mentality.

In this way, no club is allowed - no club that claims exclusive monopoly over God and souls (Mt 9:38-40) with the explicit claim to discipline the multitudes.

The community of the Risen One abhors the competitive conception of religious life itself, if it is a sacred reflection of the imperial world and of a society that oppresses and embitters the existence of the little ones.

It would be a sick life in search of prestige, even if only apparent.

On the contrary, in fraternal realities, 'whoever humbles himself is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven' (Mt 18:4).Therefore, it is absolutely necessary to avoid a pyramidal mentality and a mentality of rejection creeping into the faithful.

A spirit of competition that inevitably ends up seeking refuge in hypocritical miracle-mongering, a substitute for the life of faith.

The Master does the same to educate members of the Church who remain - perhaps even today - affected by a sense of superiority towards crowds and strangers.

A feeling of being a chosen and privileged people (Lk 9:54-55) that was even infiltrating the early communities.

To those who do not want to open their eyes except to be captivated by phenomena that are yet to be discerned - because despite the official creed they profess, they remain tied to an ideology of power - the Lord never reserves impressive confirmations coming 'from heaven' (Mt 16:1) that would be their paradoxical validation.

The only sign is and will be his living Church: the 'victory' of the Risen One who pulsates in all those who take him seriously.

Without fixed hierarchies - under the infallible guidance of the Call and the Word - the children know how to reinterpret, even in new ways.

Such is the miracle, embodied in a thousand events (in history, in personal and community life); in recoveries, healings and impossible re-evaluations.

The authentic Messiah does not offer any cosmic display.

There are no festivals that force spectators to bow their heads in the presence of such overwhelming glory and condescension, as if he were a heavenly dictator.

And no lightning bolts as a shortcut.

Over the centuries, churches have often fallen into this 'apologetic' temptation, which is entirely internal to devotions with a dry impulse: seeking marvellous signs and trumpeting them to silence opponents.

These are stratagems for a banal attempt to silence those who ask not for parapsychological experiences, but for testimonies that are not withered and without tricks or gimmicks: for concrete disalienation.

Not bad, this activity of ours to liberate the least among us, which is holding its own, unclutched by the idea of a demagogue with triumphalist or consolatory airs.

We prefer the wave of Mystery.

We yearn to be guided by an unknown energy that has a non-artificial goal in store for us - led by the eminent but intimate and hidden Friend (exclusive to us).

We will be one humanity in the Master, on the right path that belongs to us. Even if we walk along interrupted and incomplete paths, even paths of confusion.

Commenting on the Tao Te Ching (i), Master Ho-shang Kung writes: 'The eternal Name wants to be like the infant who has not yet spoken, like the chick that has not yet hatched. The luminous pearl lies within the oyster, the beautiful gem lies in the middle of the rock: however much it shines within, on the outside it is foolish and insipid'.

All this may be considered "unconsciousness" and "inconclusiveness"... but it brings out what we are - expressing another way of seeing the world.

In ourselves and within the Call of the Gospels, we have a fresh power that approves of a path that is different from the immediately normal and the conspicuous.

An Appeal that is enchanting, delightful and splendid, because it activates us by challenging us.

A word that does not think according to patterns. A heartfelt plea that is not impressed by exceptional things, by performances that suffocate the soul in search of meaning and authenticity.

Genuine wonder, an indomitable impulse nestled in the dimension of human fullness, which does not give up: it wants to express itself in its transparency and become reality.

A sort of intimate Infante: he moves in a way that is considered 'abstruse', but he puts things right, inside and out.

His free and invigorating testimony, attentive and always personally brilliant, will be innate and unprecedented, biting, inventive without artifice, unpredictable and completely non-conformist.

It will give rise to and incessantly nourish an experience of Faith that is convinced, singular and incisive - even though it may appear losing and unsuccessful, dishonourable and unspectacular.

Much more than miracles, the supplications of our essence and reality will make us recognise God's call and action in human beings and in the fabric of history.

These invitations can give rise to other astonishing wonders of divine-human goodness, rather than paroxysmal visions tinged with neurosis and empty sentimentality or magic.

The only sign of salvation is Christ in us - without seams or great hysterical gestures.

He is the image and likeness of the new humanity; the manifestation of God's power on earth.

For authentic conversion: nothing external.

To internalise and live the message:

What kind of evidence are you looking for?

How does your Sign (which makes people believe) differ from gimmicks, acts of force, or what others would like you to spread?