Solemnity of Corpus Christi [7 June 2026]

 

First reading from the Book of Deuteronomy (8:2–3, 14b–16)

The text calls on the people of Israel to remember their long journey through the desert following their exodus from Egypt under the leadership of Moses. The forty years in the desert were marked by hunger, thirst, poverty, snakes, scorpions and loneliness. But the central point is not the suffering itself: it is God’s faithful presence in the midst of trials. God fed the people with manna; he brought water forth from the rock; he protected Israel during their journey; he concluded the Covenant on Mount Sinai. The trials of the desert are presented as a divine ‘pedagogy’: God educates his people as a father educates his son. Through fragility, Israel learns two truths: its own poverty and dependence, and at the same time God’s constant care. The fundamental message is that man does not live by bread alone, but by everything that comes from God: his Word, his Spirit, his presence. The text also emphasises the duty of remembrance: ‘Remember’, ‘do not forget’. To remember means to remain faithful to one’s roots and to the Covenant. Forgetting God leads to idolatry and enslavement to other powers. When Israel settles in the Promised Land of Canaan, the danger will no longer be the desert, but prosperity and forgetfulness. For this reason, obedience to the commandments becomes essential. The final section offers a significant image: memory is like the roots of a tree; a people without memory dies spiritually; the future depends on fidelity to one’s roots. Finally, the text links everything to Jesus Christ, who in the desert echoes the words of Deuteronomy: ‘Man does not live by bread alone’. On the feast of the Body and Blood of Christ, the believer is invited to welcome God into their heart. The memory of a people (or a community, or a couple) is a bit like the roots of a tree: today we see the tree, we do not see the roots… yet it lives only thanks to them and owes everything to them, in a sense. Imagine a tree saying: ‘I am separating myself from my roots; they prevent me from moving, worse still, they prevent me from flying’. The rest of the story would be the death of the tree. In the truest sense of the word, the tree’s future lies in its roots. When Moses tells his people “Remember” or “do not forget”, it is as if he were saying to them “do not cut yourself off from your roots”, “your future lies in your faithfulness to your roots”. Moses does not look to the past out of sentiment; but it is precisely because he is entirely focused on the future that he is concerned with fidelity to one’s roots. He says something along the lines of: ‘If you want to still be standing tomorrow, do not forget today who you are and to whom you owe it.’ From century to century, Israel has built itself up by remaining faithful to its roots. Jesus, in turn, to resist the tempter, simply echoed the words of Deuteronomy: “Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord” (Mt 4:4).

 

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 147/148 

Praise the Lord, Jerusalem! Praise your God, O Zion! We must note this parallel: Zion and Jerusalem are one and the same. And, moreover, when we speak of Zion or Jerusalem here, we are referring not so much to the city as to its inhabitants—that is, ultimately, the people of Israel. The expression: ‘Praise the Lord, Jerusalem!’ can be easily dated: we are at the time of the return from the Babylonian exile, that is, at the end of the 6th century, when it was necessary to rebuild the city and restore the Temple. Without God’s help, none of this would have been possible: He has strengthened the bars of Jerusalem’s gates! In the previous psalm, God is called the ‘builder of Jerusalem’ and the ‘gatherer of the scattered of Israel’ (Ps 146/147 A,2). But this is not merely a task of architecture that God has accomplished: this return to the homeland is a true restoration of the people; a new life is about to begin—a life of peace and security: ‘He grants peace within your borders and satisfies you with the finest wheat’. In exile, the people ate the bread of tears and bitterness; the return to the homeland is a time of abundance. The second very strong emphasis of this psalm is the keen awareness of the privilege represented by the election of Israel: the Lord has not done this for any other nation; he has not made his laws known to them. We read in the Book of Deuteronomy: ‘You are a people consecrated to the Lord your God: he has chosen you to be his people, his special possession among all the peoples of the earth (Dt 7:6; 10:15). This is a free and inexplicable choice of God, one that never ceases to amaze us and for which we never cease to give thanks. From a human perspective, this choice cannot be explained; the only explanation Moses found is that because he loved your forefathers, he chose their descendants and brought you out of Egypt by his presence and his great power (cf. Dt 4:37). It is therefore simply a love story with no other explanation. At first, Israel did not feel it was living in an exclusive Covenant with the God of Sinai and thought that other peoples had their own protective gods: Israel was not yet monotheistic, but ‘monolatrous’ (also known as ‘enotheistic’), that is, it worshipped a single God, the God of Sinai, who had delivered it from Egypt. It only truly became “monotheistic” during the Babylonian exile (in the 6th century BC). A new leap in faith then took place alongside the discovery of universalism: if the God of Sinai was the one and only God, then He was also the God of all peoples. However, this did not negate the election of Israel, as can be seen in certain texts of the prophet Isaiah: “You, Israel, my servant whom I have chosen, descendant of Abraham my friend… Fear not, for I am with you… I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you, and uphold you with my victorious right hand” (Isa 41:8–10). Isaiah also helped his contemporaries understand that their election now took on a different form: that of a vocation to serve other peoples, to be witnesses of God among them. “I will make you a light to the nations, so that you may bring my salvation to the ends of the earth” (Is 49:6).

 

Second Reading from the First Letter of Saint Paul to the Corinthians (10:16–17)

In this text, Paul frames the whole matter with two warnings: ‘Beloved, flee from idolatry’ (v. 14) ‘Do we wish to provoke the Lord to jealousy?’ (v. 22) In the Bible, God’s “jealousy” is always a warning against idolatry.   In Corinth, some Christians, converts from paganism, were tempted to continue taking part in the sacred feasts in the temples of idols, offering animal sacrifices. For Paul, there are no half-measures: either one enters into communion with the living God in the Eucharist, or one seeks another communion. One cannot partake “of the Lord’s table and of the table of demons”. Another practical question was whether a Christian could eat the meat from idolatrous sacrifices sold in the market. Paul replies that one may eat it because idols do not exist and therefore there is no sacred meat; nevertheless, one must avoid causing offence to those who are  weak in faith.

He then emphasises the Christian meal of the Eucharist, which is, in contrast, true communion with Christ. Paul highlights the significance of the Christian meal and asks: ‘Is not the cup of blessing a communion with the blood of Christ? Is not the bread we break a communion with the body of Christ?’ The Greek word is koinonia: communion, intimate participation, mutual belonging.  Christ himself, at the Last Supper, spoke of the ‘New Covenant in my blood’. And in the biblical Covenant there is mutual belonging: ‘You shall be my people and I shall be your God’. The entire Eucharistic Liturgy is the place where the Covenant is fulfilled.  The Eucharist is a meal of communion as in ancient cults, but the value of the sacrifice has changed. God no longer asks for the killing of animals, but for the gift of life: ‘You do not desire sacrifice and offering, [...] so I said: “Here I am”’ (Ps 39/40).   Christ offered his whole life. And, by participating in the Eucharist, we unite our lives to his to offer them to the Father. Paul dares to say: ‘The bread we break is communion with the body of Christ’, that is, we form one body with him, and for this reason we can live as he did. St Augustine sums it up: ‘You become what you receive; you receive what you are.’ By receiving the Body and Blood of Christ, we in turn become lives offered for the birth of a new humanity; an exclusive choice, for one cannot serve both God and idols, and, in the logic of the gift, 

the Christian sacrifice is to offer one’s own life united with that of Christ. We become bread broken for others; thus, in a single sentence: we understand that the Eucharist is the place where the transcendent God draws intimately near to us and transforms us into a gift for the world. 

 

From the Gospel according to John (6:51–58)

Here is a discourse that is hard to accept, yet it is the word of Life. After the discourse on the Bread of Life, many disciples abandon Jesus. His words are, humanly speaking, incomprehensible. Jesus then addresses the Twelve directly: ‘Do you also wish to go away?’ And Peter replies: ‘Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.’ It is the paradox of faith: these words cannot be explained by strict logic, but only by living them, and the lesson is clear: it is not from books that one understands what the Eucharist is, but by participating in it and allowing oneself to be drawn into the mystery of Christ. The word ‘life’ recurs several times in this discourse: ‘The bread that I will give is my flesh, given for the life of the world’ and, as we read in the Letter to the Hebrews: ‘Entering the world, Christ says: “Behold, I come to do your will.” And God’s will is that the world may have life.  It is a free gift, as Isaiah had already announced: ‘All you who are thirsty, come to the water… buy without money, without payment’ (Is 55:1-3), because what gives us life is the gift of Christ’s life, that is, his sacrifice. The biblical teaching on sacrifice reveals a progressive conversion: from the idea of bloody sacrifices, including human ones, to the absolute prohibition of human sacrifice, leading to the acceptance of sacrifice as an offering of bread and wine (Melchizedek, Gen 14:18). The Songs of the Servant also help us understand that the true sacrifice is to give one’s life for others. And Jesus says that his life is given entirely for humanity. The bread that I will give is my flesh, given so that the world may have life. In the Eucharistic sacrifice, by eating his flesh and drinking his blood, Christ remains in us and we in him; in Jesus, therefore, we receive the very life of God: ‘Just as the Father, who has life, sent me and I live for the Father, so whoever eats me will live for me’. The essential conversion is to move from ‘performing the sacred’—that is, offering things to God—to learning to receive the Life that God gives us in Christ, so that we too may become life given to others. In short: the Eucharist cannot be explained but must be lived, for it is the gift of Christ’s life that draws us into Him, transforms us and enables us to give life for the world. A final note: the word ‘flesh’ that Jesus uses here is equivalent to ‘life’, and we can therefore understand that the Eucharist is his life given so that the world may have life. How? Through his passion, death and resurrection. Immersed in the Paschal Mystery through the Eucharist, each of us is called to welcome the life that God gives us so that we, in turn, may be the Eucharist, a gift of life for all.

 

+Giovanni D’Ercole

(Mt 5:13-16)

 

«Beautiful Works» [which express fullness] are good works, enriched by the splendour of disinterest, listening, hospitality, prayer and humble dialogue, cordial fraternity.

The plural term (v.16) indicates our vocation to reinterpret in a personal way the Self-Portrait of Christ imprinted in the Beatitudes just proclaimed (vv.1-12).

We each have an irreplaceable role in the moments of equilibrium break and Exodus.

We are legitimized unconditionally.

God has respect for the shortcomings and the functions that are lacking: who knows what blissful novelties they hide and are preparing.

The Beatitudes have their own fragrance, but all personal. Their «salt» fights the insignificant of fatuous hopes.

And sons look far away, but they are with the "pasta"... remaining a living call: between God and man [who is himself even in fraternity] there is an inviolable bond.

In fact, «Light» is what does not mix with things, but distinguishes them.

The Israelites considered themselves «Light of the world» for their devotion and impeccable religious practice.

For Jesus, the faithful and the Community are «Light» because they walk in the friendly glory of the Master.

The disciple and the Assembly are «Salt» because they appear in the world under any circumstance as those who give it meaning, Wisdom [from the Latin «sapĕre», to have flavour].

We are called to be a sign of a new Pact, because the unexpected Relation of the Mount that the Son proposes could no longer be contained in the First Covenant.

To the ancient needs of purification Christ replaces those of full fraternity, which in the enhancement of each person gives taste and (precisely) flavor, and becomes a lamp to our steps.

This "second Pact" does not crush the believing people. Sign of a Father who recovers and infuses orientations to the individual path and to the Churches - not from the outside, but from our roots and as a leaven.

We become a living Beauty thanks to an activity that is imperfect but that has its influence on flowering, from within.

Thus preserving people from the unraveling of dehumanization and corruption - like «salt» with food.

«Salt and Light» are every little divine element that has its own Mystery and Appeal.

Our little candles can continue to thin out the darkness, but only until we put them under a «bushel» (v.15), that is, under a pedissee «measure» - wich is not the different, propulsive and always unprecedent one of the Beatitudes.

In Christ we are led to an evolutionary leap: we are Sapidity though minute of things, and limited Lights, yes - but not inhibited.

The life of Faith guides and stimulates the building of a realm of personal Taste and Love, without hysteria or intimate dissociations.

This adventure is configured as a New Alliance between soul, reality, global and local world, ‘signs of time’ and Mystery.

Light of Freedom that coincides with our Vocation by Name. Intelligent energy that knows how to draw alternative life even from the wounds inflicted.

 

 

[Tuesday 10th wk. in O.T.  June 9, 2026]

Fullness of small and beautiful works, not petty and childish

(Mt 5:13-16)

 

"Beautiful works" [which express fullness] are good works, enriched by the splendour of selflessness, listening, hospitality, prayer and humble dialogue, and cordial fraternity.

The plural term (v. 16) indicates - beyond abilities and circumstances - our vocation to reinterpret in a personal way the Self-Portrait of Christ imprinted in the Beatitudes just proclaimed (vv. 1-12).

The theme of the passage is that of fidelity which integrates and overcomes inconstancy - and the need to seal love with risk, which makes us authentic [last Beatitude: vv.10-12].

The Lord has surprising trust, because his plan is to become the flavour and fundamental orientation of human history - not only 'in favour of all', but for each one (even those considered insignificant).

Of course, only Jesus is the liturgical Amen: icon of fulfilled humanity, consistency of dedication, the Yes and the definitiveness of the Promises.

But his story has always been contrary to the prevailing mentality.

Therefore, even we - perhaps "seen" as inadequate - can embody a path where the Gospel arises not only as something common, and therefore "halfway", but as something unique and definitive.

We each have an irreplaceable role in moments of disruption and Exodus.

We are legitimised without conditions.

God has respect for shortcomings and missing functions: who knows what blessed new things they hide and are preparing.

In his commentary on the Tao (ii), Master Ho-shang Kung states:

"The original chi gives life to all creatures and does not appropriate it," that is, it does not return, it does not confer the old, backward and fixed order. It does not run for cover; rather, it gives a charge - not partial, but vital and illuminating.

Of course, it is precisely in consumer goods that constant change lies: this confuses the conventional religious idea.

But the fact that our Vocation is to be and become ever more a Source of Life like the Father, and signs of the Covenant between Heaven and earth (with equal dignity to the Son), values every little divine element in us, or that we promote in our brothers and sisters.

We cannot escape our essence, and we do so with passion - not out of a rigid determination to 'be' 'salt' and 'light' according to opinion.

Thus, instead of yearning to return to functioning like everyone else or as before, we will begin to respect our own and others' retreats of the soul.

In its pauses and questions of meaning, it is nurturing the future of the Kingdom.

 

In Jesus' time, flames were obtained from fats: blowing out a lamp meant filling the house with nauseating miasmas. 

This is what happens in a voluntaristic and inattentive Church, when there is an excess of dirigisme that does not respect the unique dignity of vocation, which is replaced by manners.

Every blade of grass makes its own distinct contribution to making the field green; this does not make it feel constrained - nor can it be extinguished or reduced by a pretentious and ostentatious context that would risk altering it.

 

The Beatitudes have their own fragrance, but it is entirely personal: it would be futile to attenuate their aroma by adding ordinary cream, which sweetens various dishes (but makes them all taste the same). Or cotton candy, more suited to festivals of castagnole, castanets and firecrackers, and variety shows.

Their 'salt' combats the insignificance of vain hopes or those of others (bechamel sauce of appearances). It introduces an internal and savoury wisdom into the world of side dishes, salads, carousels and insipidities.

Children look far away, but they stay with the 'pasta'... remaining a living reminder: between God and man [who is himself even in brotherhood] there is an inviolable bond.

In fact, 'Light' is that which does not mix with things, but distinguishes them.

This means that, without too many compliments, spiritual discernment must be torn from the clutches of those who, out of quietism and a desire not to cause trouble for those complacent with power, mitigate and adapt, indeed hide the Gospel - turning it into a lullaby.

The parallel passage in Luke 11:33 gives thought to the reception of pagans: to make 'light' for those who enter the House.

Matthew is primarily concerned with those who already dwell there: whose specific weight and life of relationships based on the conviviality of differences must become Light in itself - to allow everyone to understand the difference between the seeds of death and the tracks of complete Life.

 

The Israelites considered themselves the 'Light of the world' because of their devotion and impeccable religious practice.

A great Roman parish priest told me that one of the things that struck him on his travels in the USA was seeing too many Catholic citadels on top of hills, clearly visible to the eye but equally clearly equipped with everything - therefore detached, able to provide for themselves, closed to confrontation with today's real urban life.

This is diametrically opposed to the approach of many evangelical communities, which are less ostentatious and do not seek to attract people with their external beauty. They are mixed into the fabric of the city, and for this reason they are able to shed light on the daily lives of people seeking a personal and real relationship with God the Father.

 

For Jesus, the faithful and the community are 'Light' because they walk in the friendly glory of the Master.

He remains the slain Lamb who becomes food for all, and does not give the impression of magnificence or clamour; he does not shut himself up in fortresses, nor does he terrify.

The disciple and the Assembly are 'Salt' because they appear in the world in all circumstances as those who give it meaning, Wisdom [from the Latin sapĕre, to have taste].

We are called to make ourselves a sign of a new Covenant, because the unexpected Relationship of the Mount that the Son proposes could no longer be contained in the First Covenant.

Christ replaces the ancient demands for purification with those of full brotherhood, which, in valuing every person, gives taste and (precisely) flavour, and becomes a lamp for our steps.

This 'second Covenant' does not crush the believing people. 

The inclination to unravel our own evolution, becoming protagonists in the Name of the New Agreement, will transmit illumination and fragrance to the journey.

In this way, we will allow ourselves to be shaped, yielding to our Core that wants to grow, express itself, and give space to the sides that are still in shadow.

These are signs of a Father who recovers and infuses direction into the individual path and that of the Churches - not from outside, but starting from our roots and like a leaven.

 

We become living Beauty thanks to an activity that, though imperfect, has an influence on flowering from within.

In this way, we preserve people from the decay of dehumanisation and corruption - like 'salt' with food.

In fact, if not properly understood thanks to the qualitative leap of Faith-love, even religious sense can channel women and men into a thousand streams of cunning...

Towards a decomposition of wisdom, and hasty, disembodied, insipid schematics - as well as, unfortunately, indistinct fog.

'Salt and Light' are every little divine element already within us. Thus, any effort towards beauty, solidity and variety will not be lost - even if reduced and diminished: it has its own Mystery and Appeal.

Of course, even in traditional religion, the value of small things is not denied, but they remain small and fixed - without leaps.

In a climate where 'Ne quid nimis' [nothing excessive] prevails, the basic conditions all seem designed to confirm the system of things and roles.

The cloak of customs weakens the peaks, relegates the personalities of simple people to narrow, insignificant spheres, which urge them to invest their energy in vacuous, childish aspects.

The idiocy of certain details is always there, stifling evolution.

 

In Fede's experience, we do not despise even the slightest contribution to the construction of an alternative kingdom to the current one - sometimes unifying, but based on nonsense and catwalks in obvious disrepair, and stench.

Our candles can continue to dispel the darkness, but only until we place them under a 'bushel' (v. 15), that is, until we give up, putting them under a slavish 'measure' - which is not the different, propulsive and always new measure of the Beatitudes.

In Christ, we are guided to an evolutionary leap: we are the Sapidità pur minuta delle cose (the tiny Sapidità of things), and we are limited Lights, yes - but not inhibited, nor small and 'baby'.

The life of Faith guides and stimulates the building of a kingdom of personal Flavour and Love, without hysteria or intimate dissociations.

This adventure takes the form of a New Covenant between the soul, reality, the global and local world, the signs of the times and Mystery.

 

Light of Freedom that coincides with our Vocation by Name. Intelligent energy that knows how to draw alternative life even from the wounds inflicted.

 

 

The salt gone mad of religion without Faith: treating ourselves as sick people

(Mt 5:13)

 

One of the possible translations from Greek of the expression in verse 13 [perhaps the most plausible] is: 'if the salt goes mad'.

Why does it go mad? It refers to personal harmony with the divine Covenant that dwells within us and to which we do not want to give space, even though it would be truly fulfilling.

All this because we are accustomed to living and feeding on external attitudes.

The Covenant would like to guide our little boat even in this time of departure from the tragedies that are blocking the world, but this is made difficult by the recitation of scripts - by what 'must be done' according to previous ideas and routine.

This is the same expression in Matthew 5:13 of the 'foolish' man (Matthew 7:26) who builds his house not on the Rock [of Freedom, which coincides with his Calling].

He also 'builds' impressive realities, but on unstable elements that are sometimes fragile, lacking in substance - therefore without a solid foundation. Rather, they are the reflection of handed-down thoughts, or of calculation and fantasy; excessively sophisticated.This is also the age-old disconnect between ritual devotion and concrete life, which the Christian community unfortunately sometimes demonstrates in the face of a world that expects answers to needs that touch it and urgent hopes (not those of a 'flock' that we do not like at all).

Instead, here and there, there is a desire to rebuild everything as it 'should be' and as it was before... In this way, we would continue carefree in pursuit of things that are now useless, neglecting the new reality and the essence of character.

Embryonic and genuine inclinations that would like to give weight to hidden resources, embedded in our cosmic being as creatures and in our most fragrant personal tendencies.

Internal powers that unblock situations.

 

The behaviour of those who have become accustomed to listening - and yearn not to celebrate the Presence of the Lord and live their faith intensely, but to return to 'mass' and to the old containers - should not be so blatantly empty, duplicitous, formal and disinterested; so openly contradictory to the authentic Call, which the believer himself emphatically proclaims to believe in.

There is a Mystery to follow, which is leading to a different kind of uniqueness. And it wants to draw alternative life - truly our own - precisely from the wounds inflicted.

Nothing to be done: the underlying lacerations remain firmly in place - those caused by those who would like to engage in critical witness, but do not rise again in unique opportunities... and find themselves constantly prey to constructed ideas, instead of being inspired (and in their intelligent energy).

 

In the expression 'salt going mad', the author evokes a sort of radical inner division, characteristic of the personal soul and the unknown Elsewhere that we would finally be called upon to welcome, instead of opposing.

The Secret that lurks in the present, in fact, can end up being trampled by external factors, such as institutional expectations, which leave no room for the revolution of habits and goals.

One example among many is the precious tradition of building a prayer corner in every home.

Even in our spiritual life, we often want to be like the devout models we have in mind, or stronger (perhaps to resemble our guides).

These are thoughts that neither convince nor inspire the heart. In reality, they become vocational blocks, inhibiting the primordial virtue that belongs to us - if convincing, it would move us further.

Christ calls us to acknowledge our unfettered uniqueness and unpredictable eccentricity - the only factor for recovery.

Exceptionality that for Him is not a disturbance, but an authentic resource.

We do not know how He will guide us or where He will lead us; what new eras (which will open up Other things, and we do not know what) He will allow us to enjoy as we proceed in the adventure of the Beatitudes just proclaimed (vv. 1-12).

 

This is the profound experimental difference between religiosity and Faith.

The latter corresponds to us because it is lovable in its intimacy. It does not take a pessimistic view of the tide of life.

It focuses on the innate perfection of our ways of being, however singular and unexpected.

In short:

We are not people who need to be cured. In terms of vocation, each of us is already mysteriously gifted and perfect.

By seriously entrusting ourselves to the Call by Name instead of to identifications that plagiarise and leave us brooding in vain, we will reach the fullness of being.

The golden age will coincide with the time of experiences that make us feel completely alive.

Even moments of emptiness will serve to regenerate us and shift our perspective. We will realise that nothing is missing.

Instead, by entrusting our lives to the narrow-minded idea of perfection and old situations to be regained, multiplying resolutions with expectations that do not concern us, we will only succeed in shattering ourselves.

In this way, we will never feel satisfied with the growth of the sense of immensity in our being and particular development.

The great Models (which ultimately betray us) force us to criticise and chase after things, treating ourselves as if we were sick, full of inner turmoil and mental torment.

It is the madness of the obvious, which through conformist quietude or a crazy expenditure of energy promises to take possession of who knows what, but does not make the germinal leap of the life of Faith.

Spousal trust and a creative gesture that wants to welcome everything: states of unease, aspects in the shadows, rising tides - and expand Happiness.

 

 

Lumen Fidei

 

1. The light of faith: with this expression, the tradition of the Church has indicated the great gift brought by Jesus, who, in the Gospel of John, presents himself thus: 'I have come into the world as light, so that whoever believes in me may not remain in darkness' (Jn 12:46). St. Paul also expresses it in these terms: "And God, who said, 'Let light shine out of darkness,' has shone in our hearts" (2 Cor 4:6). In the pagan world, hungry for light, the cult of the sun god, Sol invictus, invoked at sunrise, had developed. Even though the sun rose every day, it was well understood that it was incapable of radiating its light over the whole of human existence. The sun, in fact, does not illuminate all of reality; its rays are incapable of reaching the shadow of death, where the human eye is closed to its light. "Because of their faith in the sun," says St Justin Martyr, "no one has ever been seen ready to die." Aware of the great horizon that faith opened up for them, Christians called Christ the true sun, "whose rays give life." To Martha, who weeps for the death of her brother Lazarus, Jesus says, "Did I not tell you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?" (Jn 11:40). Those who believe see; they see with a light that illuminates the entire path, because it comes to us from the risen Christ, the morning star that never sets.

An illusory light?

2. Yet, when we speak of this light of faith, we can hear the objection of many of our contemporaries. In modern times, it was thought that such a light might have been sufficient for ancient societies, but that it was no longer needed in the new era, for a man who had become adult, proud of his reason, eager to explore the future in a new way. In this sense, faith appeared to be an illusory light, preventing man from cultivating the audacity of knowledge. The young Nietzsche invited his sister Elisabeth to take risks, to follow 'new paths... in the uncertainty of independent progress'. He added: 'At this point, the paths of humanity diverge: if you want to achieve peace of mind and happiness, have faith, but if you want to be a disciple of truth, then investigate'. Believing would be opposed to seeking. From this point onwards, Nietzsche developed his critique of Christianity for diminishing the significance of human existence, robbing life of novelty and adventure. Faith would then be like an illusion of light that prevents us from walking freely towards tomorrow.

3. In this process, faith ended up being associated with darkness. It was thought that it could be preserved, that a space could be found for it to coexist with the light of reason. The space for faith opened up where reason could not illuminate, where man could no longer have certainties. Faith was then understood as a leap into the void that we take because of a lack of light, driven by blind sentiment; or as a subjective light, perhaps capable of warming the heart and bringing private consolation, but which cannot be offered to others as an objective and common light to illuminate the path. Little by little, however, it became clear that the light of autonomous reason cannot sufficiently illuminate the future; in the end, it remains in darkness and leaves man in fear of the unknown. And so man gave up the search for a great light, for a great truth, contenting himself with small lights that illuminate the brief moment but are incapable of lighting the way. When light is lacking, everything becomes confused; it is impossible to distinguish good from evil, the road that leads to the goal from the one that makes us walk in repetitive circles, without direction.

A light to be rediscovered

4. It is therefore urgent to recover the light-giving character of faith, because when its flame is extinguished, all other lights lose their power. The light of faith has a unique character, being capable of illuminating the whole of human existence. For a light to be so powerful, it cannot come from ourselves; it must come from a more original source; it must come, ultimately, from God. Faith is born in an encounter with the living God, who calls us and reveals his love to us, a love that precedes us and on which we can rely to be steadfast and build our lives. Transformed by this love, we receive new eyes, we experience that there is a great promise of fulfilment in it, and the future opens up before us. Faith, which we receive from God as a supernatural gift, appears as a light for our path, a light that guides our journey through time. On the one hand, it comes from the past; it is the light of a fundamental memory, that of the life of Jesus, where his love was revealed as completely trustworthy, capable of conquering death. At the same time, however, since Christ is risen and draws us beyond death, faith is light that comes from the future, opening up great horizons before us and leading us beyond our isolated 'I' towards the vastness of communion. We understand, then, that faith does not dwell in darkness; that it is a light for our darkness. Dante, in the Divine Comedy, after confessing his faith before St Peter, describes it as a "spark, / which expands into a lively flame / and like a star in the sky, it sparkles within me". It is precisely this light of faith that I would like to talk about, so that it may grow to illuminate the present and become a star that shows us the horizons of our journey, at a time when humanity is particularly in need of light.

(Lumen Fidei)

In all churches, in cathedrals and religious houses, wherever the faithful gather to celebrate the Easter Vigil, that holiest of all nights begins with the lighting of the Paschal candle, whose light is then passed on to all who are present. One tiny flame spreads out to become many lights and fills the darkness of God’s house with its brightness. This wonderful liturgical rite, which we have imitated in our prayer vigil tonight, reveals to us in signs more eloquent than words the mystery of our Christian faith. He, Christ, who says of himself: “I am the light of the world” (Jn 8:12), causes our lives to shine brightly, so that what we have just heard in the Gospel comes true: “You are the light of the world” (Mt 5:14). It is not our human efforts or the technical progress of our era that brings light into this world. Again and again we experience how our striving to bring about a better and more just world hits against its limits. Innocent suffering and the ultimate fact of death awaiting every single person are an impenetrable darkness which may perhaps, through fresh experiences, be lit up for a moment, as if through a flash of lightning at night. In the end, though, a frightening darkness remains.

While all around us there may be darkness and gloom, yet we see a light: a small, tiny flame that is stronger than the seemingly powerful and invincible darkness. Christ, risen from the dead, shines in this world and he does so most brightly in those places where, in human terms, everything is sombre and hopeless. He has conquered death – he is alive – and faith in him, like a small light, cuts through all that is dark and threatening. To be sure, those who believe in Jesus do not lead lives of perpetual sunshine, as though they could be spared suffering and hardship, but there is always a bright glimmer there, lighting up the path that leads to fullness of life (cf. Jn 10:10). The eyes of those who believe in Christ see light even amid the darkest night and they already see the dawning of a new day.

Light does not remain alone. All around, other lights are flaring up. In their gleam, space acquires contours, so that we can find our bearings. We do not live alone in this world. And it is for the important things of life that we have to rely on other people. Particularly in our faith, then, we do not stand alone, we are links in the great chain of believers. Nobody can believe unless he is supported by the faith of others, and conversely, through my faith, I help to strengthen others in their faith. We help one another to set an example, we give others a share in what is ours: our thoughts, our deeds, our affections. And we help one another to find our bearings, to work out where we stand in society.

Dear friends, the Lord says: “I am the light of the world – you are the light of the world.” It is mysterious and wonderful that Jesus applies the same predicate to himself and to all of us together, namely “light”. If we believe that he is the Son of God, who healed the sick and raised the dead, who rose from the grave himself and is truly alive, then we can understand that he is the light, the source of all the lights of this world. On the other hand, we experience more and more the failure of our efforts and our personal shortcomings, despite our good intentions. In the final analysis, the world in which we live, in spite of its technical progress, does not seem to be getting any better. There is still war and terror, hunger and disease, bitter poverty and merciless oppression. And even those figures in our history who saw themselves as “bringers of light”, but without being fired by Christ, the one true light, did not manage to create an earthly paradise, but set up dictatorships and totalitarian systems, in which even the smallest spark of true humanity is choked.

At this point we cannot remain silent about the existence of evil. We see it in so many places in this world; but we also see it – and this scares us – in our own lives. Truly, within our hearts there is a tendency towards evil, there is selfishness, envy, aggression. Perhaps with a certain self-discipline all this can to some degree be controlled. But it becomes more difficult with faults that are somewhat hidden, that can engulf us like a thick fog, such as sloth, or laziness in willing and doing good. Again and again in history, keen observers have pointed out that damage to the Church comes not from her opponents, but from uncommitted Christians. “You are the light of the world”: only Christ can say: “I am the light of the world.”  All of us can be light only if we stand within the “you” that, through the Lord, is forever becoming light.  And just as the Lord warns us that salt can become tasteless, so too he weaves a gentle warning into his saying about light.  Instead of placing the light on a lampstand, one can hide it under a bushel.  Let us ask ourselves: how often do we hide God’s light through our sloth, through our stubbornness, so that it cannot shine out through us into the world?

Dear friends, Saint Paul in many of his letters does not shrink from calling his contemporaries, members of the local communities, “saints”. Here it becomes clear that every baptized person – even before he or she can accomplish good works – is sanctified by God. In baptism the Lord, as it were, sets our life alight with what the Catechism calls sanctifying grace. Those who watch over this light, who live by grace, are holy.

Dear friends, again and again the very notion of saints has been caricatured and distorted, as if to be holy meant to be remote from the world, naive and joyless. Often it is thought that a saint has to be someone with great ascetic and moral achievements, who might well be revered, but could never be imitated in our own lives. How false and discouraging this opinion is! There is no saint, apart from the Blessed Virgin Mary, who has not also known sin, who has never fallen. Dear friends, Christ is not so much interested in how often in our lives we stumble and fall, as in how often with his help we pick ourselves up again. He does not demand glittering achievements, but he wants his light to shine in you. He does not call you because you are good and perfect, but because he is good and he wants to make you his friends. Yes, you are the light of the world because Jesus is your light. You are Christians – not because you do special and extraordinary things, but because he, Christ, is your life, our life. You are holy, we are holy, if we allow his grace to work in us.

Dear friends, this evening as we gather in prayer around the one Lord, we sense the truth of Christ’s saying that the city built on a hilltop cannot remain hidden. This gathering shines in more ways than one – in the glow of innumerable lights, in the radiance of so many young people who believe in Christ. A candle can only give light if it lets itself be consumed by the flame. It would remain useless if its wax failed to nourish the fire. Allow Christ to burn in you, even at the cost of sacrifice and renunciation. Do not be afraid that you might lose something and, so to speak, emerge empty-handed at the end. Have the courage to apply your talents and gifts for God’s kingdom and to give yourselves – like candlewax – so that the Lord can light up the darkness through you. Dare to be glowing saints, in whose eyes and hearts the love of Christ beams and who thus bring light to the world. I am confident that you and many other young people here in Germany are lamps of hope that do not remain hidden. “You are the light of the world”. Where God is, there is a future! Amen.

[Pope Benedict, vigil in Freiburg, 24 September 2011]

Dear Young People! 

1. I have vivid memories of the wonderful moments we shared in Rome during the Jubilee of the Year 2000, when you came on pilgrimage to the Tombs of the Apostles Peter and Paul. In long silent lines you passed through the Holy Door and prepared to receive the Sacrament of Reconciliation; then the Evening Vigil and Morning Mass at Tor Vergata were moments of intense spirituality and a deep experience of the Church; with renewed faith, you went home to undertake the mission I entrusted to you: to become, at the dawn of the new millennium, fearless witnesses to the Gospel. 

By now World Youth Day has become an important part of your life and of the life of the Church. I invite you therefore to get ready for the seventeenth celebration of this great international event, to be held in Toronto, Canada, in the summer of next year. It will be another chance to meet Christ, to bear witness to his presence in today’s society, and to become builders of the "civilization of love and truth". 

2. "You are the salt of the earth... You are the light of the world" (Mt 5:13-14): this is the theme I have chosen for the next World Youth Day. The images of salt and light used by Jesus are rich in meaning and complement each other. In ancient times, salt and light were seen as essential elements of life. 

"You are the salt of the earth...". One of the main functions of salt is to season food, to give it taste and flavour. This image reminds us that, through Baptism, our whole being has been profoundly changed, because it has been "seasoned" with the new life which comes from Christ (cf. Rom 6:4). The salt which keeps our Christian identity intact even in a very secularized world is the grace of Baptism. Through Baptism we are re-born. We begin to live in Christ and become capable of responding to his call to "offer [our] bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God" (Rom12:1). Writing to the Christians of Rome, Saint Paul urges them to show clearly that their way of living and thinking was different from that of their contemporaries: "Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and pleasing and perfect" (Rom 12:2).

For a long time, salt was also used to preserve food. As the salt of the earth, you are called to preserve the faith which you have received and to pass it on intact to others. Your generation is being challenged in a special way to keep safe the deposit of faith (cf. 2 Th 2:15; 1 Tim 6:20; 2 Tim 1:14). 

Discover your Christian roots, learn about the Church’s history, deepen your knowledge of the spiritual heritage which has been passed on to you, follow in the footsteps of the witnesses and teachers who have gone before you! Only by staying faithful to God’s commandments, to the Covenant which Christ sealed with his blood poured out on the Cross, will you be the apostles and witnesses of the new millennium. 

It is the nature of human beings, and especially youth, to seek the Absolute, the meaning and fullness of life. Dear young people, do not be content with anything less than the highest ideals! Do not let yourselves be dispirited by those who are disillusioned with life and have grown deaf to the deepest and most authentic desires of their heart. You are right to be disappointed with hollow entertainment and passing fads, and with aiming at too little in life. If you have an ardent desire for the Lord you will steer clear of the mediocrity and conformism so widespread in our society. 

3. "You are the light of the world...". For those who first heard Jesus, as for us, the symbol of light evokes the desire for truth and the thirst for the fullness of knowledge which are imprinted deep within every human being. 

When the light fades or vanishes altogether, we no longer see things as they really are. In the heart of the night we can feel frightened and insecure, and we impatiently await the coming of the light of dawn. Dear young people, it is up to you to be the watchmen of the morning (cf. Is 21:11-12) who announce the coming of the sun who is the Risen Christ! 

The light which Jesus speaks of in the Gospel is the light of faith, God’s free gift, which enlightens the heart and clarifies the mind. "It is the God who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness’, who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God on the face of Christ" (2 Cor 4:6). That is why the words of Jesus explaining his identity and his mission are so important: "I am the light of the world; whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life" (Jn 8:12). 

Our personal encounter with Christ bathes life in new light, sets us on the right path, and sends us out to be his witnesses. This new way of looking at the world and at people, which comes to us from him, leads us more deeply into the mystery of faith, which is not just a collection of theoretical assertions to be accepted and approved by the mind, but an experience to be had, a truth to be lived, the salt and light of all reality (cf. Veritatis Splendor, 88). 

In this secularized age, when many of our contemporaries think and act as if God did not exist or are attracted to irrational forms of religion, it is you, dear young people, who must show that faith is a personal decision which involves your whole life. Let the Gospel be the measure and guide of life’s decisions and plans! Then you will be missionaries in all that you do and say, and wherever you work and live you will be signs of God’s love, credible witnesses to the loving presence of Jesus Christ. Never forget: "No one lights a lamp and then puts it under a bushel" (Mt 5:15)! 

Just as salt gives flavour to food and light illumines the darkness, so too holiness gives full meaning to life and makes it reflect God’s glory. How many saints, especially young saints, can we count in the Church’s history! In their love for God their heroic virtues shone before the world, and so they became models of life which the Church has held up for imitation by all. Let us remember only a few of them: Agnes of Rome, Andrew of Phú Yên, Pedro Calungsod, Josephine Bakhita, Thérèse of Lisieux, Pier Giorgio Frassati, Marcel Callo, Francisco Castelló Aleu or again Kateri Tekakwitha, the young Iroquois called "the Lily of the Mohawks". Through the intercession of this great host of witnesses, may God make you too, dear young people, the saints of the third millennium! 

4. Dear friends, it is time to get ready for the Seventeenth World Youth Day. I invite you to read and study the Apostolic Letter Novo Millennio Ineunte, which I wrote at the beginning of the year to accompany all Christians on this new stage of the life of the Church and humanity: "A new century, a new millennium are opening in the light of Christ. But not everyone can see this light. Ours is the wonderful and demanding task of becoming its ‘reflection’" (No. 54). 

Yes, now is the time for mission! In your Dioceses and parishes, in your movements, associations and communities, Christ is calling you. The Church welcomes you and wishes to be your home and your school of communion and prayer. Study the Word of God and let it enlighten your minds and hearts. Draw strength from the sacramental grace of Reconciliation and the Eucharist. Visit the Lord in that "heart to heart" contact that is Eucharistic Adoration. Day after day, you will receive new energy to help you to bring comfort to the suffering and peace to the world. Many people are wounded by life: they are excluded from economic progress, and are without a home, a family, a job; there are people who are lost in a world of false illusions, or have abandoned all hope. By contemplating the light radiant on the face of the Risen Christ, you will learn to live as "children of the light and children of the day" (1 Th 5:5), and in this way you will show that "the fruit of light is found in all that is good and right and true" (Eph 5:9). 

5. Dear young friends, Toronto is waiting for all of you who can make it! In the heart of a multi-cultural and multi-faith city, we shall speak of Christ as the one Saviour and proclaim the universal salvation of which the Church is the sacrament. In response to the pressing invitation of the Lord who ardently desires "that all may be one" (Jn 17:11), we shall pray for full communion among Christians in truth and charity. 

Come, and make the great avenues of Toronto resound with the joyful tidings that Christ loves every person and brings to fulfilment every trace of goodness, beauty and truth found in the city of man. Come, and tell the world of the happiness you have found in meeting Jesus Christ, of your desire to know him better, of how you are committed to proclaiming the Gospel of salvation to the ends of the earth! 

The young people of Canada, together with their Bishops and the civil authorities, are already preparing to welcome you with great warmth and hospitality. For this I thank them all from my heart. May this first World Youth Day of the new millennium bring to everyone a message of faith, hope and love! 

My blessing goes with you. And to Mary Mother of the Church I entrust each one of you, your vocation and your mission.

[Pope John Paul II, message for World Youth Day in Toronto 2002, from Castel Gandolfo, 25 July 2001]

In today’s Gospel Reading (cf. Mt 5:13-16), Jesus says to his disciples, “You are the salt of the earth. … You are the light of the world” (vv. 13-14). He uses a symbolic language to indicate to those who intend to follow him some criteria for living presence and witnessing in the world.

First image: salt. Salt is the element that gives flavour and which conserves and preserves food from corruption. The disciple is therefore called to keep society far from the dangers, the corrosive germs which pollute the life of people. It is a question of resisting moral degradation, sin, bearing witness to the values of honesty and fraternity, not giving in to worldly flattery of careerism, of power, of wealth. “Salt” is the disciple who, despite daily failures — because we all have them — gets up again from the dust of his errors, and begins again with courage and patience, every day, to seek dialogue and encounter with others. “Salt” is the disciple who does not look for consensus and praise, but strives to be a humble, constructive presence, faithful to the teachings of Jesus who came into the world not to be served, but to serve. And there is a great need for this attitude!

The second image that Jesus proposes to his disciples is that of light: “You are the light of the world”. Light disperses darkness and enables us to see. Jesus is the light that has dispelled the darkness, but it [darkness] still remains in the world and in individuals. It is the task of Christians to disperse it by radiating the light of Christ and proclaiming his Gospel. It is a radiance that can also come from our words, but it must flow above all from our “good works” (v. 16). A disciple and a Christian community are light in the world when they direct others to God, helping each one to experience his goodness and his mercy. The disciple of Jesus is light when he knows how to live his faith outside narrow spaces, when he helps to eliminate prejudice, to eliminate slander, and to bring the light of truth into situations vitiated by hypocrisy and lies. To shed light. But it is not my light, it is the light of Jesus: we are instruments to enable Jesus’ light to reach everyone.

Jesus invites us not to be afraid to live in the world, even if sometimes there are conditions of conflict and sin there. In the face of violence, injustice, oppression, the Christian cannot withdraw into self or hide in the security of his own enclosure; the Church also cannot withdraw into herself, she cannot abandon her mission of evangelization and service. Jesus, at the Last Supper, asked the Father not to take the disciples out of the world, to leave them, there, in the world, but to guard them from the spirit of the world. The Church expends herself with generosity and tenderness towards the little ones and the poor: this is not the spirit of the world, this spreads light, it is salt. The Church listens to the cry of the least and the excluded, because she is aware that she is a pilgrim community called to prolong Jesus Christ’s saving presence in history.

May the Blessed Virgin help us to be salt and light in the midst of the people, bringing to everyone, by example and word, the Good News of God’s love.

[Pope Francis, Angelus, 9 February 2020]

Turnover in the Church, antidote to unilaterality

(Mt 5:1-12)

 

We feel ephemeral and often disappointed, yet we want to be happy, not just here and there: we are uncertain, yet we seek full and lasting joy.

Of course we can only find it in a disconcerting proposal.

 

In the Gospel of Mt Jesus is the new Moses who rises on «the Mount». But the young Legislator does not proclaim norms on a stone code, but his own experience of the Father... «by seeing the crowds» (v.1).

At the crossroads between divine condition and fullness of humanization, the new Rabbi outlines a sort of his Self-Portrait: as a Son; in favor of his brothers. Gathered in Family spirit.

A sprout of hospitable world - which in its small churches Mt wants to encourage. Where there is no man above and little ones always below; or the character in front and the others behind.

Only humanizing upheavals [such as the reversal of roles and conditions] that strengthen the concordant tissue.

So in the House of All there will have to be a replacement and reversal of figures, of situations and criteria of eminence, therefore chains of command - signs of the Coming Kingdom. 

Overturning capable of sharpening the sensitivities to Communion [at that time there was lively friction between Judaizing experts, first in the class, and the last arrived at threshold of fraternities in the faith].

 

On «the Mount» is announced the discreet work of the Spirit, which designates the character of a modest holiness, animated by gift’s Love, in itself divinizing and humanizing [quality that is manifested in the so-called "poor in Spirit"].

In fact, the authentic disciple reaches tears: they express the dimension of intimate energy that purifies external ideas; it makes us true from within, and essential on the outside.

Affliction drives to return into ourselves; it re-proposes the contact with our land and the virtues that regenerate.

Sadness that in the condition of finitude and conscious limit, makes us empathetic, splendidly human.

Deeply dissatisfied: opponents of injustices. Because every person who is not placed in the position of being able to express his abilities is an insult to the Salvation Design.

In fact, in each excluded person hides an Artist who is not allowed to express himself, who is neither discovered nor valued in favor of himself and others; rather, considered extraneous or deviant.

 

The Spirit of Christ is spontaneously identified not with the usual aggressive energy of the feral animals, of those who prevail because more astute and strong.

We are women and men characterized by heart of flesh - not of beast (Dan 7).

The Beatitudes - the new Decalogue of «the Mount» - allude precisely to a sort of divine condition embodied and transmissible to anyone, pacified and creative like love, therefore all to be discovered.

This is not a proposal that pushes back eccentricities: on the contrary, very nice and lovable, inclusive.

That of the Blessed is therefore the condition that makes us Unique - not sanctity regulated by procedures, which is always there to abhor the danger of the unusual.

Nor does it exclude our right to do something great... but it does not identify it with having, power, appearing.

There is no "race" to be won. And the Lord makes us reflect on the authentic realization: it is not an outward conquest.

 

Blessed is the trait and outcome of the true and full development of the divine project on humanity - paradoxical in character.

The Lord is pleased with those who undertake this orientation, where his feelings become deeply ours.

Blood relatives; already here and now able to experience the blissful life of Heaven: being with and for others, being ourselves.

 

 

[Monday 10th wk. in O.T.  June 8, 2026]

Turnover in the Church, antidote to one-sidedness

(Mt 5:1-12)

 

In the Gospel of Mt Jesus is the new Moses ascending "the Mount". But the young Lawgiver does not proclaim rules on a stone code, but rather his own experience of the Father... "seeing the crowds" (v.1).

At the crossroads between divine condition and fullness of humanisation, the new Rabbi outlines a kind of self-portrait of himself: as a Son; on behalf of his brothers. Gathered together in the spirit of Family.

A sprout of a hospitable world - which in his small churches Mt wants to encourage. Where there is no man above and the man always below; or the person in front and the person behind.

Only humanising upheavals [such as the reversal of roles and conditions] that strengthen the concordant fabric.

Therefore, in the House of all there must be replacement and reversal of figures, situations and criteria of eminence, hence chains of command - signs of the Kingdom to come. 

Reversal capable of sharpening sensitivities to Communion [at that time the friction between experienced Judaizers, first of the class, and latecomers at the threshold of faith fraternities was lively].

 

Back then, the mentality of precedence and supremacy was ingrained to the point that all religions recognised hierarchies.

Those who considered themselves entitled to precedence [in the community!] have always raised a question of seeming obviousness:

Is it not in the natural order of things that in human society there are first and last, learned and ignorant, sovereigns and subjects?

After all, the legal principle that once governed e.g. all private property law in the Latin world is also the motto in the epigraph of a well-known official Catholic newspaper: Unicuique Suum.

Even Leo XIII, the pope of the Social Encyclicals, recognised that 'in human society it is according to the order established by God that there are princes and subjects, masters and proletarians, rich and poor, learned and ignorant, nobles and plebeians; the obligation of charity of the rich and the wealthy is to help the poor and destitute'.

It was the mentality of a sin of simple omission: it is enough to do charity afterwards.

The Lord's position is very very different: the powerful are not at all the blessed of God - as the rich patriarchs of the First Testament were also supposed to be.

Their estranged world, their palaces, and even their fancy dress, are perfect metaphors for the inner emptiness and ephemerality they revel in.

Their gorging is a sign of an intimate abyss to be bridged - a kind of nervous hunger that feels dizzy.

So on, from alienation to alienation.

On "the Mount", on the other hand, the discreet work of the Spirit is announced, which designates the character of a modest holiness, animated by the Love of gift, in itself divining and humanising [a quality manifested in the so-called "poor in Spirit"].

Holiness that surpasses the ancient fiction of the rulers, who piled on top of each other reciting the same script.

For hitherto, the masses remained dry-mouthed: whatever ruler seized power, the petty flock remained submissive, sad and suffocated; unworthy even to present themselves to the Lord.

All condemned and inadequate.

The people of the disciples are also heartbroken, because they do not accept the inequalities of the pyramidal society, which tends to level and annihilate the Gifts of God spread throughout humanity - of whatever social class.

In fact, the authentic disciple goes as far as tears: they express the dimension of intimate energy that purifies external ideas; it makes us true from within, essential outside.

Affliction guides one back into oneself; it reintroduces contact with our earth and the primordial virtues, which regenerate.

Sadness that in the condition of finitude and conscious limitation, makes one empathetic, beautifully human.

Intimately dissatisfied: opponents of injustice. Because every person who is not placed in a position to express his or her abilities is an insult to the Plan of Salvation.

This is not almsgiving or philanthropy: it is a precise, social choice (v.5).

In fact, in each ousted person is hidden an artist who is not allowed to express himself, who is neither discovered nor valued in favour of himself and others; rather, considered an outsider or a deviant.

Indeed, Annalena Tonelli spoke of the last whose pain she wished to diminish as 'murdered Mozarts': she wished to recover them and involve them, to enrich them together. Having a mother's heart - and heart in the misery of abandoned brothers and sisters.

 

Identical severity prevailed in religions, whose leaders bestowed on the people a strong and vulgar nationalist horde impulse, and the contentment of the gregarious.

Instead, in the Kingdom of Jesus there must be a lack of ranks - which is why the plan of the ambitious and error-free does not match his.The Spirit of Christ spontaneously identifies itself not with the usual aggressive energy of the beasts, of those who prevail because they are more cunning and stronger - but with the person who makes himself available.

We are women and men characterised by a heart of flesh - not of beast (Dan 7).

 

The Beatitudes - the new Decalogue of 'il Monte' - allude precisely to a kind of divine condition incarnate and transmissible to anyone, pacified and creative like love, therefore all to be discovered.

 

Blessed is the trait and outcome of the true and full development of the divine plan on humanity.

In the Gospels, this character is not hindered by the frequenters of bad places, but paradoxically by the habitués of the holy precincts.

According to Jesus, purity of heart is not linked to external legal purity - as was believed in all devotions - but to a purified gaze and lack of duplicity. 

The growth and humanisation of the people is therefore not thwarted by sinners, but precisely by those who would have the ministry of making the Face of God known to all!

In short, the load of preconceptions with which they face reality and relationships, does not allow the constituted and fixed authorities to recognise the calls of the Lord in the facts of life and Nature itself.

Thus for the peacemakers.

They work for the complete reconstruction of Life and Fraternity, of naturalness itself and of Equal Coexistence.

All of this, in the spirit of selflessness that integrates selfishness by recognising the poor We that expands in the world.

 

The self-portrait of Jesus as it transpires from the Beatitudes of Mt embraces the icon of a little boy - who at that time counted for nothing.

The Lord recognises himself precisely in a house valet; a shop assistant, who, however, has a mysterious and pleasant divine spark within him.

It is the only identification that Jesus loves and wishes to give us: that of the one who cannot afford not to recognise the needs of others.

A dimension of sacredness without distinctive haloes: not cynical, but shareable. Because it is linked to instinctive perception and reciprocity, to spontaneous friendship towards woman and man - experienced in the likeness of the Father.

Obviously: this is not a proposal compromised with the usual inexorable rigmarole [doctrine and discipline] that drives back eccentricities: on the contrary, it is very sympathetic and amiable, inclusive.

 

That of the blessed is therefore the condition that makes one unique - not the sanctity standardised by procedures, which is always abhorring, exorcising, the danger of the unusual.

This is precisely why - instead - the fixation on antecedence has characterised the life of the Church for centuries; as has the feudal and monarchical idol of stability for life.

The Master does not exclude our right to do something great... but does not identify it with having, power, appearing.

For a path of Bliss and Divinisation, the Master does not excite the impulses of restraining, ascending, dominating: they do not give Happiness.

Rather, it relies on our spontaneous freedom to give, to go down and to serve - a franchise entrusted first and foremost to the top of the class. Those in history have made the callus to overwhelm others with moralism and cunning.

 

God does not deny the ego's legitimate urges to be recognised. We do not participate in life as if we were destined to fail, but as those who are promoted - who do not suppress their own requirements.

But not to win "the race". In this way, the Lord makes us reflect on authentic fulfilment.

This is not an external conquest, but an intimate one and made one's own. It is thus able to sculpt our deepest inclination, in its richness of faces and in the time of a Path.

Aristotle stated that - beyond artificial petitions of principle or apparent proclamations - one only really loves oneself. This is no small question mark.

Granted and not granted, the growth, promotion and blossoming of our qualities lies within a wise Path.

An even interrupted path that knows how to give itself the right rhythm - even to encounter new states of being.

Genuine, mature love expands the boundaries of the ego-loving primacy, visibility and gain. He integrates it with primordial, dormant energies to which we have not given space - understanding the You in the I.

Path and Vector that then expands skills and life. Otherwise, in all circumstances and unfortunately at any age, we will remain in the puerile game of those who scramble up the steps to prevail.

As Pope Francis said about the mafia phenomena: "There is a need for men and women of Love, not honour!".

The Tao Tê Ching (XL) writes: 'Weakness is what the Tao employs'. And Master Wang Pi comments: 'The high has the low for a foundation, the noble has the vile for a foundation'.

 

We feel ephemeral and often disappointed, yet we want to be happy, not just here and there: we are uncertain, yet we seek full and lasting joy. Of course we can only find it in a disconcerting proposition.

In ancient times people thought they could meet God in the intoxicating emotions generated by successful experiences, typical of successful men. But the persecuted and crucified Son disputes its outward appearance.

Other decisive appointments were considered to be those on the summits of suggestive heights, or the devout and paroxysmal rushing right into the sacred precincts that Jesus intended to dismantle, forcing the people out of them [Jn 10:1-16 Greek text].

Luther interprets the Son of God on the Mount as "Mosissimus Moses". However, Matthew speaks of "the Mount" - not a tribune - as the figure and context of an eternal call, not only intended for the members of the best equipped and most able institutes of perfection to ascend.

In concrete terms, these are the moments when we ourselves incorporated into the human wholeness of Christ feel fullness of being: like the passing of the bride-soul into its sacred centre, and a special attunement of ideas, words and actions between our nature - and the divine.

"The Mount" is the (theological) place where the cunning, conformist thoughts, knowledge and calculations of the worldly plain are abandoned. Where the assumptions of hilarious and transient happiness [the one that lasts a minute or an hour] are levelled.

So blessed are the poor 'to the Spirit' - that is, 'by the Spirit' - says Jesus [v.3a Greek text].

In the Christian community it is important (precisely) to enrich together.

The Lord delights in those who take such a direction, where His feelings become deeply ours - and important are not the minutiae, but the direction of travel.

Particular details of the life of love are left to personal creativity and the variety of people; sensitivities, cultures, situations. 

What counts is the fundamental option for goodness and communion, understood not as uniformity - but conviviality of differences.

This is not to despise wealth hysterically: it is a matter of exchanging it, so that it may multiply, avoiding keeping it for oneself. Otherwise everything becomes an insurmountable obstacle to life, and the prerogative of the quick-witted.

Those who have freely dispossessed themselves of the superfluous in order to share it, do so 'by the Spirit', i.e. out of Love: out of free choice, with passion and without distinction between those who benefit from the circle and those who do not.

Thus the rich man becomes lord.

In turn, the wretched may not be poor 'in the Spirit' if they are puffed up, boastful, haughty, disinterested in others; if they lack openness of heart, extraneous to dialogue, intent on improving their condition through compromise and deception - only desirous of substituting themselves for the rich and then tracing their lying, subjugating and opportunistic ways.

 

The voluntary renunciation of the selfish and mediocre use of one's material and sapiential resources distinguishes us as children of God.

Consanguineous; already here and now able to experience the blissful life of Heaven: to be with and for others, being oneself.

In fact, the promise accompanying the first Beatitude (v.3a) does not guarantee access to Paradise in the afterlife, in the distant future.

The exchange of gifts guarantees the experience of divine life itself, right on earth.

In pagan religions, the condition of Blessed Life was a jealous and exclusive characteristic of deities, who unwillingly participated in it; and reassuringly, only after death. However half-hearted.

In Christ and through Via, despite our partial failures, or our possible lack of natural abilities and frailties - indeed, because of them - we discover a Father who is the friend of full, charged Joy: immediate, energetic, limitless Happiness. That even rises from a shaky state.

The Father is not the God of religions that fog and dull life: he does not bless the greed of the few, who make the multitudes needy.

Did the last of the commandments dictate that one should feel fulfilled and not covet the stuff of others?

The first of the Beatitudes proposes that we desire others to have the same things and possibilities of life as we do.

The dynamic of falling in love presupposes in each of its declensions, a quivering Fullness that flows everywhere - recognising the opposites in us and the legitimate desire for expressive fulfilment in our brothers and sisters.

 

 

To internalise and live the message:

 

How do you overcome doubt, retreating? What do you announce with your life? Does it go beyond direct experience? Do you know realities that manifest the Risen One? How do you point out exuberant paths of hope? Or are you selective and silent?

 

 

 

They let the Light through

 

All Saints, Between Religious Sense and Faith

 

Embodying the spirit of the Beatitudes, we ask what is the difference between common "religious feeling" and "living by Faith".

In ancient devotions the Saint is the composite man sui, perfect and detached [but predictable]; and the opposite of Saint is 'sinner'.In the proposal of full life in the Lord, the "saint" is a person of communicative understanding and who lives for conviviality, creating it where there is none.

In the path of the sons and daughters, the Saint is indeed the excellent man, but in his full sense - full and dynamic, multifaceted; even eccentric. Not in a one-sided, moralistic or sentimental sense.

In the Latin language perfìcere means to complete, to go all the way.

In such a complete and integral meaning, 'perfect' becomes an authentic embodied value: a possible attribute - of every person who is aware of his own condition of vulnerability, and does not despise it.

The woman and man of Faith value every occasion or emotion that exposes the condition of nakedness [not guilt] in order to open new paths and renew themselves.

From the point of view of life in the Spirit, the saint [in Hebrew Qadosh, divine attribute] is indeed the 'detached' man, but not in a partial or physical sense, but ideal.

It is not the person who at a certain point in life distances himself from the human family in order to embark on a path of purification that would elevate him. Deluding oneself to improve.

As the encyclical Fratelli Tutti emphasises: 'A human being [...] does not realise himself, does not develop, cannot find his own fullness [... and] does not come to fully recognise his own truth except in the encounter with others' (n.87).

The authentic witness is not animated by contempt for existential chaos - nor eager to contract out the difficulties of managing one's freedom by handing it over to an alienating, secluded agency (which solves the drama of personal choices).

In Christ, man is "detached" from common mentality, insofar as he is faithful to himself, to his own Fire that is not extinguished - to the passions, to his own unrepeatable uniqueness and Vocation.

And at the same time, 'separated' from external competitive criteria: of having, of power, of appearance. Self-destructive powers.

To the latter, it concretely substitutes the fraternity of giving, of serving and of diminishing [from "character"]. Fruitful energies.

All for the sake of global Communion, and in Truth also with one's own intimate character seed - avoiding proselytising and being noticed in the catwalks.

The true believer knows his redeemed limit, sees the possibilities of imperfection.... Thus it replaces the presuppositions of keeping for oneself, of rising above others and dominating them, with a fundamental humanising triptych: giving, freedom to 'come down', collaboration.

This is the authentic detachment, which does not flee one's own and others' inclinations, nor does it despise the complex trait of the human condition.

In this way, the "saint" lives the essential Bliss of the persecuted (Mt 5:11-12; Lk 6:22-23) because he has the freedom to "lower himself" in order to be in tune with his own essence; coexisting in his originality.

In terms of Faith, the saint is thus no longer a physically 'separate', but rather 'united' to Christ - and banished like Him, in the weak brothers and sisters.

In short, the divine Design is to compose Families of the small and shaky, not to carve out a group of "strong" friends, and "better" than others.

Only this horizon of the Hearth impels us to depart.

Consequently, the opposite of Saint is not 'sinful', but rather unrealised or unfulfilled.

 

Let us look again at the motive (vocational and personal).

Jesus was a friend of publicans and public sinners not because they were better than the good, but because in religion, the 'righteous' are not infrequently less than spontaneous; making themselves impermeable, closed, refractory to the action of the Spirit.

Surprisingly, the Lord Himself repeatedly experienced that it was precisely the devoutly deficient people who were willing to question themselves, realise, rework, deviate from habit - for the building up of new paths, even by groping.

Not being able to enjoy the respectable cloak of social screens, after an awareness of one's own situation (and over time) - compared to those who considered themselves "arrived" and friends of God - from "distant" they became people more than the "impecunious" willing to love.

 

Questioning is fundamental from a biblical perspective.

At every turn, Scripture proposes to us a spirituality of the Exodus, that is, a road of liberation from fetters and travelled as if on foot, step by step. Hence, valuing paths of research, exploration, self-discovery and the Newness of a God who does not repeat, but creates.

The call that the Word makes is to embark on an itinerary; that is the point. And we have always been "those of the Way" and who do not pass by, do not look the other way [cf. Lk 10:31-33; FT, 56ff].

 

For the classical pagan mentality, woman and man are essentially 'nature', so their being in the world is conditioned [I remember my professor of theological anthropology Ignazio Sanna even used to say 'de-centred'], even determined by birth (fortunate or not).According to the Bible, woman and man are creatures, splendid and adequate in themselves for their mission, but pilgrim and lacking.

God is the One who "calls" them to complete themselves, recovering the dissimilar aspects.

 

To come to be the image and likeness of the Lord, we must develop the capacity to respond to a Vocation that makes us not phenomena, nor exceptional 'perfects', but particular Witnesses.

Chosen by Name, just as we are; who embrace their deep being - even unexpressed - to the point of recognising it in the You, and unfolding it in the We.

A person's holiness is thus combined with many states of dissatisfaction, boundary, and even partial failure - but always thinking and feeling reality.

For a New Covenant.

 

In the Old Testament, the believer came into contact with divine purity by frequenting sacred places, fulfilling prescriptions, reciting prayers, respecting times and spaces, avoiding embarrassing situations, and so on.

Our experience and conscience infallibly attest that strict observance is too rare, or mannered: within, it often does not correspond to us - nor does it humanise us.

It sooner or later becomes a house of cards, shaky the more it points 'upwards'. All it takes is to clumsily dispose of one, and the contrived construction collapses.

We realise our natural impossibility to fulfil sterility, (other people's) maps and such high standards.

With Jesus, Perfection is not about 'thinking', nor is it about following an abstract code of observances. Completeness is in reference to a quality of Exodus and Relationship.

In ancient contexts, the children's path has been cloaked in a mystical or renunciatory proposal of abstinence, fasting, retreats, secluded living, obsessive cultic fulfilments... which in many situations formed the backbone of pre-conciliar spirituality.

But in Scripture, saints do not have haloes or wings.

They are not such for performing incomparable and astounding miracles of healing: they are women and men embedded in the ordinary world and in the most ordinary aspects. 

They know the problems, weaknesses, joys and sorrows of daily life; the search for one's identity-character, or deep inclination.

And the apostolate; the family, the education of children, work. The seductive power of evil, even.

 

In the First Testament, 'Qadosh' exclusively designated an attribute of the Eternal [the only non-intermittent Person] - and its separateness from the tangle of often confused earthly ambitions.

Despite the flaws, however, in Christ we become capable of listening, of perception; thus enabled to seize every opportunity to bear witness to the innate, vital Gratuity of divine and real initiative.

Unceasingly, the providential life proposes itself and comes to open unthinkable breaches.

Its unprecedented journeys of growth renew existence all intertwined and in conformity.

This also makes us wonder at the intimate resources, previously unconscious or unconfessed and concealed, or unpredictably hidden behind dark sides.

 

That which is Insignificant is no longer moved behind clouds and placed in fortified enclosures.

Therefore, God's adversary will not be transgression: on the contrary, it becomes the lack of a spirit of Communion, in differences.

The enemy of the story of Salvation is not religious incompleteness, but the gap from the Beatitudes - and from the unfolding spirit of the "wayfarer" for whom "wandering" is also synonymous [not paradoxical] with "wandering".

God's counterpart is thus not 'sins', but 'the' Sin [in the singular, a theological term, not a moralistic one].

"Sin" is the inability to correspond to an indicative Calling, which acts as a spring to complete us, to regenerate us not to be partial. This is harmonising the opposite sides - in being ourselves and being-With.

Here it is the Faith that "saves", where we are - because it annihilates "the sin of the world" (Jn 1:29) i.e. disesteem and guilt; the humiliation of unbridgeable distances.

In fact, Jesus does not recommend doctrines, nor does he recommend parcelling out one's life with punctual ethylisms. Nor does he envisage any religious ascent [in terms of progressiveness] peppered with effort.

To no one in the Gospels does Christ say 'be holy', but with Him, like Him and in Him - United, to encounter our own deepest states unceasingly.

Recognising them better, also through the You and the We.

 

The Saint is the little one, not the all-in-one, uniform, predictable hero.

The saint is he who, walking his own path in the wake of the Risen One, has learnt to "identify himself with the other, regardless of where [or] from where [...] ultimately experiencing that others are his own flesh" (cf. FT 84).