Pentecost Sunday (Year C)  [8 June 2025]

May God bless us and the Virgin protect us! On the feast of Pentecost, like Mary and the apostles, let us prepare our hearts to receive the gift of the Holy Spirit who transforms us into fire and light of love. Today, the first reading and the responsorial psalm are common to years A, B, and C, while the second reading and the Gospel are different each year.

*First reading from the Acts of the Apostles (2:1-11)

Jerusalem is not only the city where Jesus instituted the Eucharist, died and rose again, but it is also the city where the Spirit was poured out upon humanity. It was the year of Jesus' death, but the people in the city had probably never heard of his death, let alone his resurrection, so the feast of Pentecost was like any other for them. The Jewish Pentecost was very important because it was the feast of the giving of the Law, one of the three feasts of the year for which people went on pilgrimage to Jerusalem, and the list of all the nationalities present on that occasion proves its great interest. For the disciples of Jesus, who had seen, heard and touched him after his resurrection, nothing was the same as before, even if they did not expect what was about to happen. Luke helps us to understand what is happening by choosing his words carefully and evoking at least these three texts from the Old Testament: the gift of the Law at Sinai, a prophecy of Joel, and the episode of the Tower of Babel. First of all, Sinai. The tongues of fire and the sound like a mighty wind recall what happened at Sinai when God gave the tablets of the Law to Moses (Exodus 19:16-19).  Following this line, Luke helps us understand that Pentecost was not simply a traditional pilgrimage, but a new Sinai, where God gave his Law to teach the people how to live in the Covenant. At Pentecost, He gave His own Spirit, and from then on, His Law, the only true path to freedom and happiness, was no longer written on stone tablets but in the hearts of men, as Ezekiel had prophesied (Ezekiel 11:19-20; 36:26-27). The prophet Joel: Luke certainly wanted to evoke a word of Joel: 'I will pour out my Spirit on all flesh, says God' (Joel 3:1), that is, on all humanity. For Luke, those devout Jews from all nations under heaven, as he calls them, are a symbol of the whole of humanity, for whom Joel's prophecy is finally fulfilled, and this means that the long-awaited 'Day of the Lord' has come. The Tower of Babel is an event that can be summarised in two acts: Act 1: Men, who speak the same language and the same words, decide to build an immense tower between the earth and the sky. Act 2: God stops them and scatters them across the earth, confusing their languages, and from that moment on they no longer understand each other. What is the meaning of this story? God certainly does not want to stifle man's potential, and if He intervenes, He does so to spare humanity the false path of single-minded thinking and a human project that excludes God. It is as if He were saying: you are seeking unity, which is a good thing, but you are going about it the wrong way, because unity in love does not come through standardisation, but through diversity. And this is the message of Pentecost: at Babel, humanity learns diversity; at Pentecost, it learns unity in diversity, 'conviviality' (as Don Tonino Bello writes), because all nations hear the proclamation, each in its own language, of the one message: 'Magnalia Dei, the great works of God' (Acts 2:11).

*Responsorial Psalm (103 (104), 1.24, 29-30, 31.34)

This psalm has 36 verses of praise and wonder at the works of God, a beautiful poem. It is proposed for the feast of Pentecost because Luke, in the book of the Acts of the Apostles, recounts that on the morning of Pentecost, the apostles, filled with the Holy Spirit, began to proclaim in all languages the 'great works of God' of creation. All civilisations have poems about the beauty of nature. In particular, a poem written by the famous pharaoh Akhenaten (Amenhotep IV) was found in Egypt in the tomb of a pharaoh, a hymn to the Sun God. Amenhotep IV lived around 1350 BC, at a time when the Jews were probably in Egypt and may have known this poem. There are similarities in style and vocabulary between the pharaoh's poem and Psalm 103/104, but what is interesting is to note the differences marked by God's revelation to the people of the Covenant. First difference: God alone is God, an essential difference for the faith of Israel: God is the only God, there are no others, and the sun is not a god. The account of creation in the book of Genesis puts the sun and moon in their place: they are not gods, but luminaries, themselves simple creatures. Several verses show God as the only Lord of creation using royal language: God presents himself as a magnificent, majestic and victorious king. Second peculiarity: Creation is all good, and here there is an echo of Genesis, which repeats tirelessly: 'And God saw that it was good'. This psalm evokes all the elements of creation with the same wonder: 'I rejoice in the Lord', and the psalmist adds (in a verse not read this Sunday): 'I will sing to the Lord as long as I live, I will sing praise to my God while I have my breath'. However, evil is not ignored: the end of the psalm mentions it and invokes its disappearance, since it was already understood in the Old Testament that evil does not come from God, because all creation is good and one day God will remove all evil from the earth: the victorious King will eliminate everything that hinders human happiness. Third peculiarity: Creation is continuous, not an act of the past, as if God had thrown the earth and man into space once and for all, but a perennial relationship between the Creator and his creatures. When we say in the Creed: "I believe in God, the Father almighty, creator of heaven and earth," we are not only affirming our faith in an initial act, but we are recognising that we are in a necessary relationship with him, and this psalm reiterates this by speaking of God's constant action: "All wait for you... You hide your face, they are dismayed... You take away their breath, they die and return to their dust. You send forth your spirit, they are created, and you renew the face of the earth." Another peculiarity: Man is the culmination of creation. According to the Jewish faith, man is at the summit of creation, the king of creation, and for this reason he is filled with the breath of God. And this is precisely what we celebrate at Pentecost: the Spirit of God who is in us vibrates and resonates with man and with all creation, and the psalmist sings: 'Let God rejoice in his works! I rejoice in the Lord." In conclusion, creation makes sense in the light of the Covenant: In Israel, every reflection on creation is placed in the perspective of the Covenant, since Israel first experienced liberation by God and only afterwards meditated on creation in the light of this fundamental experience. There are visible traces of this in the psalm: First of all, the name of God used is always the famous tetragrammaton YHWH, which we translate as Lord, the name of the God of the Covenant, revealed to Moses. Furthermore, in the expression, 'Lord, my God, how great you are', the possessive is a reference to the Covenant, since God's plan in the Covenant was precisely this: 'You shall be my people, and I will be your God'. This promise is fulfilled in the gift of the Spirit to all flesh, as the prophet Joel proclaims, and every person is invited to receive the gift of the Spirit to become a true child of God.

*Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul the Apostle to the Romans (8:8–17)

 The main difficulty in this text lies in the word 'flesh', which in St Paul's vocabulary does not have the same meaning as in our vocabulary, where the two components of the human being, body and soul, are often contrasted, with the risk of misinterpreting what Paul means when he speaks of flesh and Spirit. What he calls 'flesh' is not what we call body, and what he calls 'Spirit' does not correspond to what we call soul; indeed, he specifies several times that it is the Spirit of God, 'the Spirit of Christ'. He does not contrast two words, 'flesh' and 'Spirit', but two expressions: 'living according to the flesh' and 'living according to the Spirit', that is, choosing between two ways of living, or rather deciding whom to follow and what course of action to take. Here we return to the theme of the two paths that every Jew, like St Paul, knows well: choosing between two paths, between two possible attitudes in the face of difficulties or trials: trust in God or distrust; the certainty of never feeling abandoned by God or the doubt and suspicion that God does not really seek our good; fidelity to his commandments because we trust him, or disobedience because we consider ourselves capable of autonomous decisions. The history of Israel in the Bible (think of Massah and Meribah in the Book of Exodus) presents numerous examples of mistrust in the face of life's trials, especially in the desert, where the people faced many trials, including hunger and thirst. When the people suspected that God had abandoned them, they put God and Moses on trial. Even Adam, faced with the limits placed on his desires, suspected and disobeyed the Lord. The temptation of Adam and Eve in Eden is repeated in our lives every day: it is the constant problem of trust and distrust, the so-called 'original' sin in the sense that it is at the root of all human disasters. Opposed to suspicion and rebellion against God is Christ's attitude of trust and submission because he knows that God's will is only good. Especially in the face of the challenges of pain in all its forms and death, there are two opposing attitudes that Paul calls 'living according to the flesh' or 'living according to the Spirit'. For him, living according to the flesh means behaving like slaves who do not trust and obey out of obligation or fear of punishment. "Living according to the Spirit," on the other hand, means "behaving like children," that is, weaving relationships of trust and tenderness which, following Christ's example, lead to life. Living under the influence of the flesh (i.e., in an attitude of distrust and disobedience towards God) leads to death, while living through the Spirit is to put to death the works of sin. In other words, the attitude of a slave is destructive, while the attitude of a child is the way to peace and happiness. The Spirit of God, who dwells in us through baptism, enables us to call God 'Abba-Father', and on the day when all humanity recognises God as Father, the divine plan will be fulfilled, and we will all enter into his glory together. A few verses later, Paul notes that creation eagerly awaits the revelation of the children of God. Finally, today's text reminds us that since we are children of God, we are also heirs of God, co-heirs with Christ, on condition that we suffer with him in order to be with him in glory. This text can be read in two ways: the slave imagines a God who sets conditions on inheritance; instead, the son considers God as Father even and above all in suffering. Suffering is inevitable, as it was for Christ, but lived with him and like him, it becomes a path to resurrection, and then 'on condition that we suffer with him' means: on condition that we are with him, that we remain united to him at all times, even in inevitable suffering.

*From the Gospel according to John (14:15-16, 23b-26)

 This well-known Gospel passage takes on new meaning today thanks to the other biblical texts proposed for the feast of Pentecost. For example, we are tempted to think of the Holy Spirit in terms of inspiration, ideas, discernment, intelligence, but for the feast of the gift of the Spirit, today's Gospel speaks only of love. Jesus says here that the Spirit of God is something else entirely: it is Love, Love personified. This means that on the morning of Pentecost in Jerusalem, when the disciples were filled with the Holy Spirit, it was love itself, which is God, that filled them. In the same way, we too, baptised and confirmed, know that our capacity to love is inhabited by the love of God himself. The responsorial psalm 103/104 reminds us of this when it proclaims: You send forth your Spirit, and we, created in the image of God, are called to resemble him more and more, constantly moulded by him in his image. The Spirit is the potter who works his clay, and every vessel becomes more and more refined in the hands of the craftsman. We are the clay in God's hands, so our likeness to Him is refined more and more as we allow ourselves to be transformed by the Spirit of Love. In the second reading, St. Paul speaks of our relationship with God, summarising it in one sentence: we are no longer slaves, but children of God, while in the Gospel, Jesus links our relationship with God to our relationship with our brothers and sisters: "If you love me, you will keep my commandments" (Jn 14:15), and we know well what his commandment is: 'that you love one another as I have loved you' (Jn 13:34).  If Jesus is referring to the gesture of washing feet, that is, to a decisive attitude of service, we can translate "if you love me, you will keep my commandments" as "if you love me, you will serve one another". God's love and love for our brothers and sisters are inseparable, so inseparable that it is by the quality of our service to our neighbour that the quality of our love for God is judged and therefore "if you do not serve your brothers and sisters, do not claim to love me!"  A little further on, Jesus takes up a similar expression and develops it: "If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him" (Jn 14:23). This does not mean that the Father in heaven does not love us if we do not serve our brothers and sisters, because there are no conditions or blackmail in him. On the contrary, the characteristic of mercy is precisely to bend down even more towards the poor, as we are all poor, at least in terms of love and service to others. Love is learned by practising it, but what the Lord is telling us here is something we know well: the ability to love is an art, and every art is learned by practising it. The Father's love is boundless, infinite, but our capacity to receive it is limited and grows as we practise it. We can therefore translate this as follows: 'If anyone loves me, he will put himself at the service of others and little by little, his heart will expand; the love of God will fill him more and more, and he will be able to serve others even better... and so on to infinity," that is, in unlimited progress. Let us conclude by returning to the term "Paraclete," which can be translated as comforter and defender. Yes, we need a defender, but not before God, and St. Paul makes this clear in the second reading: The Spirit you have received does not make you slaves, people who are still afraid, but rather the Spirit who makes you children (cf. Rom 8:15).  We are therefore no longer afraid of God and we do not need a lawyer before Him. But then why does Jesus say that he will pray to the Father, and he will give us another defender, to remain with us forever? Yes, we need an advocate, who defends us from ourselves, from our reluctance to serve others, from our lack of trust in God's power, who constantly defends the cause of others against our selfishness because, in doing so, he actually defends us, since true happiness consists in allowing ourselves to be moulded every day by God in his image, overcoming all selfish resistance.

+Giovanni D'Ercole

Comparisons no, Exceptionality yes

(Jn 21:20-25)

Once again in the fourth Gospel, the [uncertain] Petrine step and character are contrasted with that of the disciple loved by the Lord.

But the fullness of God shines through the whole Church, if genuine. Vocations are different. None in itself is sufficient.

Each one feels the Appeal to pursue their Call by Name in a direct, confidential, personal manner, and step by step, without stalling in confrontation.

No one is a superior model, or vice versa destined to be a facsimile: love erupts in a personal, always free, unprecedented way.

The opinion, affair or curiosity of others is a poison, both for realisation and for the missionary dimension.

Beware, therefore, of hearsay, conjecture, and image, even spread throughout the territory.

Especially in monopoly situations, they would lead to standardization, to “average life”, to collapse.

Beware of comparisons:

«Follow Me» [not others] (v.22) means to adhere to a Heaven that dwells in each son - and in Communion, not in a herd.

To each unique energy, history, and sensitivity, corresponds a reserved, unrepeatable way of being a disciple.

Differences and ties are recomposed in the Spirit, which knows where to go - calling each singular personality to dimensions of collected or extrovert existence - in its own Root.

He who is driven more to action [or reflection] must not linger, nor turn back; rather, immerse himself.

Each one is in the right place. He must not stray from the unique path.

In short, genuine love does not have a generic foundation, but rather an unpredictable, singular, unusual one; relevant though “incorrect”.

We must not be distracted from our natural and spiritual, innate purpose.

The mystery surrounding Christ unfolded in his People is inexhaustible, and we too are called in the first person to fearlessly ‘write’ a characteristic Gospel (v.25) [cf. Jn 20:29-30].

The difference between ancient religiosity and life of Faith? We are not photocopies of persistent conduct, but inventors and outriders.

Christ wants to be reinterpreted in the first person and in the conviviality of differences.

To each one the Master recognises his own way of acting. Consensus has nothing to do with the Vocation.

Instead, we often sit in external armour, and perhaps even measure the life project, the sign of the times, the gift, the stimulus, the Secret of the Brethren, with the same short-sightedness of commensurate programmes.

God reserves the right to point it out to each one. Beyond any 'map' and organisation chart.

Then, even “stability” is partial, awaiting fulfilment.

Whoever bets on the Way of Faith knows that they must depart from the spirit of unilaterality.

The same vigour of the path calls for a quiet pause and convergence.

Even “staying” finally throws its own balanced energy at initiatives... so on.

The ways of following Christ that resonate deep in the heart are as varied as the people, the events, the rhythms commensurate with the soul, the ages.

They embrace the same Proposal - without losing the enduring Mystery or any bond, in such many-sidedness.

Only here... real World, Person, Nature and Eternity team up.

[Saturday 7th wk. in Easter, June 7, 2025]

Comparisons no, Exceptionality yes

(Jn 21:20-25)

Once again in the Fourth Gospel, the Petrine step and character (uncertain) are confronted with that of the disciple loved by the Lord.

In him too we are called to a loose and liberal personality [more typical of the Johannine communities of Asia Minor] that reflects a less rigid and prophetically superior spirit than the official apostolic church - still Judaizing.

The early Christians looked forward to the so-called Second Coming of the Lord.

Some churches, faced with the death of followers, began to imagine that at least some of them would survive until the Parousia of Christ.

With the passage of time and the death of not only the apostles, but also the second and third generation disciples, disagreements arose over the precedence and interpretation of the Scriptures.

All this, despite John's insistence on the ever-present Presence of the Risen One, and the historicity of the Life of the Eternal [so-called 'eternal life'].

In addition to this, the Fourth Gospel reaffirms the relevance of the ultimate realities and the Judgment.

Conversely, the idea of their futurity remained widespread.

But the death of the evangelist himself shook the communities to no small degree, disconcerting many believers who imagined that disciple should - at least he - be present at the so-called 'Return' [a term that in the Gospels - in the original language - does not exist].

This is the reason for the addition of a "second conclusion" to Joh 20:30-31.

This is what we designate 'Chapter 21' - a work of the Johannine school, which attempts to clarify the Lord's Nearness, the meaning of the 'Manifestations' of the Risen One, the service of authority, the testimony of the 'beloved disciple'.

The fullness of God shines through the entire Church, if genuine. Vocations are different. None in itself is sufficient.

Each one hears the Call to carry out his own Call by Name according to a direct, confidential, personal character, and step by step, without getting bogged down in comparisons.

The opinion, the affair or curiosity of others, is a poison, both for realisation and for the missionary dimension.

Beware, therefore, of hearsay, conjecture, and image, even spread across the land.

Above all in situations of cultural, spiritual, or simply denominational monopoly [as still in Italy] such normalised convictions would lead to homologation, to 'average life', to collapse.

Beware of comparisons:

"Me, follow" (v.22 Greek text) means to adhere to a Heaven that inhabits each child - and in Communion, not in a herd.

To each energy, story, and exclusive sensitivity, corresponds a reserved, unrepeatable way of being a disciple.

No one is a superior model, or vice versa destined to be a facsimile: love erupts in a personal, always free, unprecedented way.

The path of following pointed out, remaining or remaining undetermined, are correlative and malleable characteristics or polarities: it is from them that unexpected answers to true questions arise, and the Newness of God.

Differences and bonds are recomposed in the Spirit, who knows where to go - calling each singular personality to dimensions of collected or extroverted existence - into its own Root.

Those who are driven more to action [or reflection] must not linger, nor turn back; rather, immerse themselves.

Each one is in the right place. It must not lose its unique way.

In my garden I have some big pines that provide shade, but one of them suddenly withered irreparably. It seemed like who knows what; in an instant it fell. Not to be believed. It also happens in religious life.

Among my field grass, I notice several small plants blooming - without ever having tended them - which drive away insects, offering the ground a variegated texture and a delicate colour spectacle.

If I forced the undergrowth to grow up to give shade, it would get sick. The whole thing wouldn't even become a bramble; rather, an unnatural interweaving of discomforts (imposed of my own accord) that would never fade.

Each seed corresponds to its own development and uniqueness, also in relation to the different situation around it - in the light or not.

In short, authentic love does not have a generic foundation, but rather an unpredictable, singular, unusual one; of relevance, however 'incorrect'.

It is said that St Anthony Abbot pondered the Last Judgement [who is saved and who is not?] The answer came to him peremptorily: "Antonio, look after yourself!" - To say that interest in the inclinations and preferences of others is ambiguous. Not always good; sometimes useless. Often fatal and deadly.

If someone is offered as a gift a special vocation of charity - even of blood - to others a different kind of unrepeatable witness is reserved; e.g. sapiential or critical martyrdom [of the opposed and pioneers].Rather than losing the pondus and character of one's Calling by Name, allowing oneself to be overwhelmed by the overbearing forces in the field - even in ecclesial life it is spontaneous to proclaim another kingdom than that of the single thought, of consensus, of the clever men of the quarter. 

They have nothing to do with the Vocation.

We must not be distracted from our natural and innate spiritual purpose.

The mystery surrounding Christ unfolded in his People is inexhaustible. And we too are called in the first person to fearlessly write a characteristic Gospel (v.25) [cf. Jn 20:29-30].

The difference between ancient religiosity and the life of faith? We are not photocopies of persistent conduct, but inventors and outriders.

Christ wants to be reinterpreted in the first person and in the conviviality of differences.

To each one the Master acknowledges his action.

Instead, we often sit in external armour, and perhaps even measure the life project, the sign of the times, the gift, the stimulus, the Secret of the brethren, with the same short-sightedness of commensurate programmes.

God reserves the right to point it out to each one. Beyond any 'map' and organisation chart.

Then, even the 'stabilities' are partial, they await fulfilment.

He who bets on the Way of Faith knows that he must depart from the spirit of one-sidedness.

The same vigour of the journey calls for quiet pause and convergence. 

Even 'remaining' finally throws its own quiet energy at initiatives... and so on.

The ways of following that resonate deep in the heart are as varied as the people, the events, the rhythms commensurate with the soul, the ages.

They embrace the same Proposal - without losing the enduring Mystery or any connection in such multifacetedness.

Only here, Real World, Person, Nature and Eternity come together.

"When the weaver raises one foot, the other lowers. When the movement ceases and one of the feet stops, the fabric is no longer made. His hands throw the spool that passes from one to the other; but no hand can hope to hold it. Like the weaver's gestures, it is the union of opposites that weaves our life' (Peul African Oral Tradition).

"We are absolutely lost if we lack this particular individuality, the only thing we can truly call our own - and whose loss is also a loss for the whole world. It is also precious because it is not universal' (Rabindranath Tagore).

"Truth is not at all what I have. It is not what you have at all. It is what unites us in suffering, in joy. It is the child of our Union, in pain and pleasure born. Neither I nor You. And I and You. Our common work, permanent amazement. Its name is Wisdom' (Irénée Guilane Dioh).

"The loss of all certainty and shelter is both a kind of trial and a kind of healing" (Pema Chödrön).

"When we suffer a serious disappointment, we never know if it is the conclusion of the story we are living: it could also be the beginning of a great adventure" (Pema Chödrön).

"To grow means to go beyond what you are today. Do not imitate. Do not pretend to have achieved the goal and do not try to rush things. Seek only to grow' (Svami Prajnanapada).

"True morality consists not in following the beaten path, but in finding the true path for us and following it without fear" (Gandhi).

"Truth resides in every human heart, and here one must seek it; one must be guided by the truth as one sees it. But no one has the right to force others to act according to their own view of the truth' (Gandhi).

"You must stand up to the whole world even at the cost of being alone. You must look the world in the eye, even though it may happen that the world looks at you with bloodshot eyes. Fear not. Believe in that little thing within you that resides in your heart and says: abandon friends, wife, everything; but bear witness to that for which you have lived and for which you must die" (Gandhi).

"In Benin, if you see a jar of water lying under a tree in front of a house, know that it is for you, a stranger passing through; there is no need to knock on the door to ask for a drink, you just open the jar, take the gourd, drink the water and go on your way if no one is there" (Raymond Johnson).

"We must learn to abandon our defences and our need to control, and trust totally in the guidance of the spirit" (Sobonfu Somé).

'Observing and listening are a great art. From observation and listening we learn infinitely more than from books. Books are necessary, but observation and listening sharpen your senses' (Krishnamurti).

"Fire is related to Dreaming, to maintaining our connection to ourselves and ancestors, and to the art of keeping our visions alive" (Griot of Central Africa).

"As in life, contraries coexist everywhere: in social organisation and affective life, in exchanges between individuals. To live and realise the contradiction, that is the essential" (Alassane Ndaw).

"The trial of crimes is instructed, but what does the jury think? Who are the jurors? Who is mankind's deputy attorney general?" (Djibril Tamsir Niane).

"Man must take responsibility for the ties, both visible and invisible, which together give meaning to life" (Aminata Traoré).

"Introducing the spirit of other people into our lives gives us more eyes to see and allows us to overcome our limitations" (Sobonfu Somé).

"In the forest, when the branches quarrel, the roots embrace" (African proverb).

For even in a relationship of deep love and coexistence 'there is a need to free oneself from the obligation to be equal' (Amoris Laetitia, no. 139).

"The waves each rise to their own height, almost competing incessantly with each other, but they only reach a given point; thus they lead our minds to the great calm of the sea, of which they too are a part and to which they must return with a rhythm of marvellous beauty" (Rabindranath Tagore).

To internalise and live the message:

What gospel do you feel you have to write with your life?

Uniqueness

11. "Each to his own way", says the Council. Therefore, it is not the case to be discouraged when contemplating models of holiness that appear unattainable. There are testimonies that are useful to stimulate and motivate us, but not because we try to copy them, as this could even lead us away from the unique and specific way that the Lord has in store for us. What matters is that each believer discerns his own way and brings out the best in himself, what is so personal God has placed in him (cf. 1 Cor 12:7), and not that he exhausts himself trying to imitate something that was not meant for him. We are all called to be witnesses, but there are many existential forms of witnessing. In fact, when the great mystic St John of the Cross wrote his Spiritual Canticle, he preferred to avoid fixed rules for everyone and explained that his verses were written so that each person could benefit "in his own way". For the divine life is communicated to some in one way and to others in another.

[Pope Francis, Gaudete et Exsultate]

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

Let us dedicate our meeting today to remembering another very important member of the Apostolic College: John, son of Zebedee and brother of James. His typically Jewish name means: "the Lord has worked grace". He was mending his nets on the shore of Lake Tiberias when Jesus called him and his brother (cf. Mt 4: 21; Mk 1: 19).

John was always among the small group that Jesus took with him on specific occasions. He was with Peter and James when Jesus entered Peter's house in Capernaum to cure his mother-in-law (cf. Mk 1: 29); with the other two, he followed the Teacher into the house of Jairus, a ruler of the synagogue whose daughter he was to bring back to life (cf. Mk 5: 37); he followed him when he climbed the mountain for his Transfiguration (cf. Mk 9: 2).

He was beside the Lord on the Mount of Olives when, before the impressive sight of the Temple of Jerusalem, he spoke of the end of the city and of the world (cf. Mk 13: 3); and, lastly, he was close to him in the Garden of Gethsemane when he withdrew to pray to the Father before the Passion (cf. Mk 14: 33).

Shortly before the Passover, when Jesus chose two disciples to send them to prepare the room for the Supper, it was to him and to Peter that he entrusted this task (cf. Lk 22: 8).

His prominent position in the group of the Twelve makes it somewhat easier to understand the initiative taken one day by his mother: she approached Jesus to ask him if her two sons - John and James - could sit next to him in the Kingdom, one on his right and one on his left (cf. Mt 20: 20-21).

As we know, Jesus answered by asking a question in turn: he asked whether they were prepared to drink the cup that he was about to drink (cf. Mt 20: 22). The intention behind those words was to open the two disciples' eyes, to introduce them to knowledge of the mystery of his person and to suggest their future calling to be his witnesses, even to the supreme trial of blood.

A little later, in fact, Jesus explained that he had not come to be served, but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many (cf. Mt 20: 28).

In the days after the Resurrection, we find "the sons of Zebedee" busy with Peter and some of the other disciples on a night when they caught nothing, but that was followed, after the intervention of the Risen One, by the miraculous catch: it was to be "the disciple Jesus loved" who first recognized "the Lord" and pointed him out to Peter (cf. Jn 21: 1-13).

In the Church of Jerusalem, John occupied an important position in supervising the first group of Christians. Indeed, Paul lists him among those whom he calls the "pillars" of that community (cf. Gal 2: 9). In fact, Luke in the Acts presents him together with Peter while they are going to pray in the temple (cf. Acts 3: 1-4, 11) or appear before the Sanhedrin to witness to their faith in Jesus Christ (cf. Acts 4: 13, 19).

Together with Peter, he is sent to the Church of Jerusalem to strengthen the people in Samaria who had accepted the Gospel, praying for them that they might receive the Holy Spirit (cf. Acts 8: 14-15). In particular, we should remember what he affirmed with Peter to the Sanhedrin members who were accusing them: "We cannot but speak of what we have seen and heard" (Acts 4: 20).

It is precisely this frankness in confessing his faith that lives on as an example and a warning for all of us always to be ready to declare firmly our steadfast attachment to Christ, putting faith before any human calculation or concern.

According to tradition, John is the "disciple whom Jesus loved", who in the Fourth Gospel laid his head against the Teacher's breast at the Last Supper (cf. Jn 13: 23), stood at the foot of the Cross together with the Mother of Jesus (cf. Jn 19: 25) and lastly, witnessed both the empty tomb and the presence of the Risen One himself (cf. Jn 20: 2; 21: 7).

We know that this identification is disputed by scholars today, some of whom view him merely as the prototype of a disciple of Jesus. Leaving the exegetes to settle the matter, let us be content here with learning an important lesson for our lives: the Lord wishes to make each one of us a disciple who lives in personal friendship with him.

To achieve this, it is not enough to follow him and to listen to him outwardly: it is also necessary to live with him and like him. This is only possible in the context of a relationship of deep familiarity, imbued with the warmth of total trust. This is what happens between friends; for this reason Jesus said one day: "Greater love has no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.... No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you" (Jn 15: 13, 15).

In the apocryphal Acts of John, the Apostle is not presented as the founder of Churches nor as the guide of already established communities, but as a perpetual wayfarer, a communicator of the faith in the encounter with "souls capable of hoping and of being saved" (18: 10; 23: 8).

All is motivated by the paradoxical intention to make visible the invisible. And indeed, the Oriental Church calls him quite simply "the Theologian", that is, the one who can speak in accessible terms of the divine, revealing an arcane access to God through attachment to Jesus.

Devotion to the Apostle John spread from the city of Ephesus where, according to an ancient tradition, he worked for many years and died in the end at an extraordinarily advanced age, during the reign of the Emperor Trajan.

In Ephesus in the sixth century, the Emperor Justinian had a great basilica built in his honour, whose impressive ruins are still standing today. Precisely in the East, he enjoyed and still enjoys great veneration.

In Byzantine iconography he is often shown as very elderly - according to tradition, he died under the Emperor Trajan - in the process of intense contemplation, in the attitude, as it were, of those asking for silence.

Indeed, without sufficient recollection it is impossible to approach the supreme mystery of God and of his revelation. This explains why, years ago, Athenagoras, Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople, the man whom Pope Paul VI embraced at a memorable encounter, said: "John is the origin of our loftiest spirituality. Like him, "the silent ones' experience that mysterious exchange of hearts, pray for John's presence, and their hearts are set on fire" (O. Clément, Dialoghi con Atenagora, Turin 1972, p. 159).

May the Lord help us to study at John's school and learn the great lesson of love, so as to feel we are loved by Christ "to the end" (Jn 13: 1), and spend our lives for him.

[Pope Benedict, General Audience 5 July 2006]

PENTECOST VIGIL

1. "Peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, I also send you... Receive the Holy Spirit"! (Jn 20, 21-22).

On this eve of Pentecost, the Church in Rome is gathered like the Apostles in the Upper Room, after the events of the Easter triduum. They knew that the Lord had risen and had appeared to Simon. But Jesus himself came among them and offered the greeting of peace. He then showed His pierced hands and side, with the visible signs of the passion. Yes! It is indeed Him. It is the same Jesus, first crucified and now resurrected. "The disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord" ( Jn 20:20 ).

As early as the evening of Easter Day, however, Jesus anticipated the event of Pentecost: "As the Father has sent me, I also send you.... Receive the Holy Spirit".

2.

Dear Brothers and Sisters of the Diocese of Rome! Through a prayer vigil, reminiscent of the Easter vigil, we have gathered here to prepare ourselves for the solemnity of the descent of the Holy Spirit.

The reading from the Acts of the Apostles, which we have just heard, recalls what happened in Jerusalem on the day of Pentecost: the sudden rushing wind, the appearance of tongues of fire, the Apostles who, filled with the Holy Spirit, began to proclaim the Gospel in languages unknown to them.

People belonging to various nations, and using different languages, hear the Apostles, who were Galileans, speaking in their own languages (cf. Acts 1:11 ): "We hear them proclaiming in our tongues the great works of God" ( Acts 2:11 ).

It is the solemn beginning of the mission of the Apostles, a mission received fifty days earlier from the Risen One, who had ordered them: "I send you. Receive the Holy Spirit" ( Jn 20, 21 . 22 ).

3.

"Emitte Spiritum tuum et creabuntur": "send forth thy Spirit and they shall be created" (cf. Ps 103:30 ).

By saying: "Receive the Holy Spirit", Christ reveals the creative power of the Spirit of God that, poured out upon every man (cf. Gl 3:1 ), restores that unity of the human race that was broken, due to sin, at the tower of Babel.

Babel became the symbol of disintegration and dispersion (cf. Gen 11:1-9 ). Pentecost, on the other hand, constitutes the full fulfilment of the unity that, through the power of the Spirit of truth, is reconstructed precisely from the multiplicity of human existence and experience.

Christ is placed at the head of the people of the New Covenant: He is the awaited great Prophet. Around Him must gather "the sons and daughters" of the new Israel (cf. Lumen Gentium, n. 9), who, animated by the life-giving Spirit (cf. Ez 37:14), take part personally in the salvific mission of Christ, Priest, Prophet and King, following in His footsteps, throughout the centuries and millennia.

4.

The second Christian millennium is now drawing to a close.

Aware of the "Tertio Millennio adveniente", of the Third Millennium that is approaching, we are gathered in this particular Upper Room of the Church, constituted this evening at the tomb of St Peter. We are looked upon by the almost two millennia that have passed, uniquely witnessed by this place, marked by the tombs of Martyrs and Confessors of the faith. Here we are at the relics of the Apostles, pillars of the Church that is in Rome.

And what happened on Easter evening is being repeated in our midst now. Christ, through the Eucharist, transcends space and time and makes himself present among us, as he did then with the Apostles gathered in the Upper Room. He addresses the same words to us: "Peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, I also send you. Receive the Holy Spirit".

5.

Receive the Holy Spirit!

We are gathered to invoke together the gift of the Holy Spirit for the entire ecclesial community of Rome, called to fulfil a demanding mission. With this apostolic initiative, the Church that is in Rome intends to open its arms wide to every person and family in the City and to penetrate like yeast into every social sphere, work, suffering, art and culture, proclaiming and bearing witness to the Risen Lord to those near and far.

Dear Brothers and Sisters, living in this metropolis, which unfortunately does not escape the temptations of secularism, one is as if subtly threatened by fatigue, indifference, spiritual torpor and that relativism in which everything is watered down and confused. That is why the great city mission, which we solemnly inaugurate with this Vigil, is first and foremost addressed to believers. It is first and foremost an entreaty to the Holy Spirit to strengthen our faith, renew our fervour, enkindle our charity.

Let not our hearts be troubled by fears and perplexity. On the contrary, counting not on human strength but on the grace that comes from God, let us bring, as witnesses of the truth and love of Christ, the Gospel of hope to every inhabitant of Rome. In this way, we will also be able to influence the culture, the ways of life, the expectations and plans of the entire city community.

6.

Church that you are in Rome, the Lord has loved you with unconditional love. That is why you are rich in spiritual and missionary energies, and many more the Spirit, precisely through mission, will arouse in you.

I address myself first of all to you, dear brothers in the priesthood, consecrated to be the first witnesses of the Gospel and the apostles of truth and unity: be the first tireless workers of the mission, be holy in order to be docile instruments through which God works the sanctification of his people. It is from the parishes that this mission must start, and you of the parish communities are the responsible and qualified animators.

And you, dear men and women religious, called to be the prophetic sign of God's presence, give yourselves with enthusiasm, through prayer and apostolic activities, to this Church in mission. You will find in this very giving the taste of your vocation.

I think of you, dear brothers and sisters, who work patiently in parishes and form the solid fabric of daily pastoral activity, catechesis and the service of charity. Through mission you will be able to find renewed spiritual vigour to transmit the Gospel of Christ in your families and in the environments in which you work. You, dear members of the numerous movements, organisms and ecclesial associations, ensure full and faithful collaboration in the mission of the city, in close agreement with the Pastors, the parishes and the entire diocesan reality.

You, dear young people, put your fresh energies at the service of this great spiritual enterprise, overcoming any possible fear or human respect. Proclaim with boldness and courage your faith in Christ among your peers and friends. From you too, dear sick and suffering people, and from you who feel marginalised, the city's mission expects a contribution that is in a sense decisive for its success. By accepting your condition and offering it to the heavenly Father together with Christ, you can become a providential and mysterious way of salvation for Rome.

The mission belongs to you, dear members of the Roman Curia and my collaborators in the service of the universal Church, called to make your qualified contribution to the life of the Christian Community, which is in Rome, and to the preparation of the Great Jubilee of the Year Two Thousand. Your contribution will also be more important than ever for the success of this vast evangelising action.

The mission is also made for you, dear brothers and sisters who have come to Rome from the most diverse parts of the world. You are now an integral part of our diocesan community. Thank you for being here with us this evening to pray.

May the city mission, after the Diocesan Synod, mark a further step forward in the journey of spiritual growth and communion among all Christians living in our City.

7.

Our gaze, this evening, cannot fail to widen to the expectations of the universal Church, on its way towards the Great Jubilee of the Year 2000. The Church seeks to become more aware of the Spirit's presence in her, for the sake of her communion and mission, through sacramental, hierarchical and charismatic gifts.

One of the gifts of the Spirit to our time is certainly the blossoming of the ecclesial movements, which since the beginning of my Pontificate I have continued to point to as a reason for hope for the Church and for mankind. They "are a sign of the freedom of forms, in which the one Church is realised, and represent a sure novelty, which still awaits to be properly understood in all its positive efficacy for the Kingdom of God at work in the present day of history" (Insegnamenti, VII 2[1984], p. 696). Within the framework of the celebrations of the Great Jubilee, especially those of the year 1998, dedicated in a special way to the Holy Spirit and his sanctifying presence within the Community of Christ's disciples (cf. Tertio millennio adveniente, n. 44), I count on the common witness and collaboration of the movements. I trust that they, in communion with the Pastors and in connection with diocesan initiatives, will want to bring to the heart of the Church their spiritual, educational and missionary richness, as a precious experience and proposal of Christian life.

8.

"Peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, I also send you.... Receive the Holy Spirit".

Christ, also in the sign of the Gospel Book that this evening I entrust to the Cardinal Vicar so that it may be solemnly displayed in the Basilica of St John Lateran, is present and sustains the path of the great mission that will lead the Ecclesial Community of Rome to the threshold of the third millennium.

"I also send you... ".Lord, as you did at the beginning of the Church's mission, at the dawn of the first millennium, you send us today on a new evangelising mission.

You entrust us with the task of bringing the Good News to the streets and squares of this City; you want your Church to be a pilgrim of hope and peace in the ways of the world.

Sustain our journey with the strength of your Spirit; make us courageous apostles of the Gospel and builders of a new humanity.

Mary, Salus Populi Romani, who accompany with your venerable icon the pilgrimage of this night, guide our steps; obtain for us the fullness of the gifts of the Holy Spirit.

"Emitte Spiritum tuum et creabuntur". Amen!

[Pope John Paul II, Homily for the Inauguration of the City Mission, in preparation for the Great Jubilee, 25 May 1996]

This evening too — vigil of the final day of the Easter Season, the Feast of Pentecost — Jesus is in our midst and proclaims aloud: “If any one thirst, let him come to me and drink. He who believes in me, as the scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart shall flow rivers of living water’” (Jn 7:37-38).

It is the Holy Spirit’s “rivers of living water”, which flow from Jesus’ heart, from his side pierced by the sword (cf. Jn 19:37), and which cleanse and make fruitful the Church, the mystical bride represented by Mary, the new Eve, at the foot of the Cross.

The Holy Spirit flows from the merciful heart of the Risen Jesus, fills our heart with mercy, in “good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over” (cf. Lk 6:38), and transforms us into the Church-heart of mercy, that is, into an “open-hearted mother” for everyone! How I would like the people of Rome to recognize the Church, recognize us for this abundance of mercy — not for other things — for this abundance of humanity and of tenderness, of which there is so much need! One would feel at home, the ‘maternal home’ where one is always welcome and where one can always return. One would always feel welcome, listened to, clearly understood, helped to take a step forward in the direction of the Kingdom of God.... As a mother knows how to do, even with her grown children.

This thought of the motherhood of the Church reminds me that 75 years ago, on 11 June 1944, Pope Pius XII made a special act of thanksgiving and supplication to the Virgin, for her protection of the city of Rome. He did so in the Church of Saint Ignatius, where the venerated image of Our Lady of Divine Love had been taken. Divine Love is the Holy Spirit, which pours out of the Heart of Christ. He is the “spiritual rock” that accompanies the People of God in the desert, so that by drawing the living water they may quench their thirst along the way (cf. 1 Cor 10:4). In the burning bush that does not extinguish, the image of Mary, Virgin and Mother, there is the Risen Christ who speaks to us, conveys to us the fire of the Holy Spirit, dispatches us among the people to hear their cry, invites us to open the passage to paths of freedom that lead to God’s promised land.

We know this. Today too, as in all times, there are those who seek to build “a city, and a tower with its top in the heavens” (cf. Gen 11:4). They are human plans, even our plans, made in service to an ever greater ‘I’, toward a heaven where there is no more room for God. God lets us be for a little while, so that we may experience the extent of evil and sorrow that we are capable of reaching without him.... But the Spirit of Christ, Lord of history, cannot wait to cast everything off, to enable us to begin again! We are always a little ‘narrow’ of mind and of heart; left to ourselves we end up losing sight of the horizon; we end up convincing ourselves that we have understood everything, that we have taken all the variables into account, have foreseen what will happen and how it will happen.... They are all our constructs that give us the illusion of touching heaven. Instead the Spirit bursts into the world from on High, from the heart of God, where the Son was begotten, and makes all things new.

What are we celebrating today, all together, in Rome, this city of ours? We are celebrating the primacy of the Spirit, who silences us before the unpredictability of God’s plan, and then makes us jump for joy: ‘So this is what God had in his heart for us!’: this journey of the Church, this passage, this Exodus, this arrival in the promised land, the Jerusalem-city with its gates always open to everyone, where mankind’s various languages are arranged in the harmony of the Spirit, because the Spirit is harmony.

And if we have labour pains, we understand that our groan, that of the people who live in this city and the groan of the whole of creation are none other than the very groan of the Spirit: it is the birth of the new world. God is the Father and mother; God is the midwife; God is the groan; God is the begotten Son in the world and in us, the Church; we are at the service of this birth. Not at the service of ourselves, not at the service of our ambitions, of many dreams of power, no: at the service of God’s deeds, of these wonders that God works.

“If pride and presumed moral superiority do not dull our hearing, we will realize that beneath the cry of many people there is not but an authentic groan of the Holy Spirit. It is the Spirit who spurs us once again not to settle, to seek to set out on the journey anew; it is the Spirit who will save us from all diocesan ‘re-arrangement’” (Address to the Diocesan Conference, 9 May 2019). The danger is this desire to confuse the newness of the Spirit with a method of ‘re-arranging’ everything. No, this is not the Spirit of God. The Spirit of God disrupts everything and helps us begin not from scratch but from a new path.

Thus let us allow the Spirit to take us by the hand and lead us into the heart of the city in order to hear its cry, its groan. God tells Moses that this hidden cry of the People has reached him. He has heard it, has seen the oppression and suffering.... And he decided to intervene by sending Moses to evoke and nourish the Israelites’ dream of freedom and to reveal to them that this dream is his very will: to make of Israel a free People, his People, bound to him by a covenant of love, called to witness to the Lord’s faithfulness before all peoples.

But in order for Moses to fulfil his mission, God wants him instead to ‘descend’ with Him among the Israelites. Moses’ heart must become like God’s, attentive and sensitive to the suffering and dreams of mankind, to their hidden cry when they raise their hands toward heaven, because they no longer have a hold on the earth. It is the groan of the Spirit, and Moses must listen, not with his ears but with his heart. Today he asks us Christians to learn how to listen with our heart. And the Teacher of this listening is the Spirit. To open our heart so he may teach us how to listen with the heart. To open it.

In order to hear the cry of the city of Rome, we too need the Lord to take us by the hand and help us ‘descend’, to descend from our positions, to go down among the brothers and sisters who inhabit our city, in order to listen to their need of salvation, the cry that reaches him, and that we oftentimes do not hear. It is not a matter of explaining intellectual, ideological things. It makes me weep when I see a Church that thinks she is faithful to the Lord, that she is keeping abreast when she seeks purely functional paths, paths that do not come from the Spirit of God. This Church does not know how to descend, and if she does not descend it is not the Spirit who commands. It is a matter of opening eyes and ears, but especially the heart, to listen with the heart. Then we will truly set out on the journey. Then we will feel within us the fire of Pentecost, which spurs us to cry out to the men and women of this city that their slavery has ended, and that Christ is the way that leads to the city of Heaven. It takes faith for this, brothers and sisters. Today let us ask for the gift of faith in order to take this path.

[Pope Francis, homily at the Vigil of Pentecost 8 June 2019]

(Jn 21:15-19)

Jesus names Simon by the attribute «of John» because He still considers Peter to be spiritually pupil of the Baptist (!).

Despite his oscillations, the Lord puts him back on his feet.

Even with us, the Son never tires of re-proposing a loving and inviting Face of God, capable of astonishing.

For let us remember that the chief apostle had been called to freedom and had chosen the condition of lackey [cf. Jn 21:9 with the «ember fire» in Jn 18:18].

Thus, at the end of a game of reproposals, in the dialogue it is Jesus himself who “settles” for a love of friendship [cf. Greek text] by modifying the double question «do you love me?» with the third: «do you care for me?».

Human love waits for a minimum of satisfaction; it cannot shape itself into pure loss. It waits for little something, at least a nod of approval and gratitude.

No recognition? Then it is the strongest who yields.

'To wait' is the infinitive of the verb to love, because it allows one to be 'born' again.

Human feeling is in a hurry: it regulates its conduct on the basis of the success or perfections of the beloved.

Divine Love recovers, helps one to become another person - it does not break the understanding.

His Calling is not tied to merit or performance.

Even through works, saying «I love you» is [unfortunately not infrequently] a fatuous statement.

Or a sincere expression, but often animated by enthusiasm without deep roots, which on a subsequent test of facts transforms the oath of allegiance into a fragile and uncertain sentiment.

It is the awareness of one's own unpresentability gratuitously redeemed and transformed into the ground of absurd confidence that transforms self-presumption into apostolate!

That is why Jesus asks Peter to start with the little ones of the flock (v.15).

And «to ‘shepherd’» (vv.15-17) means «to feed»: to nurture, to care for, to protect, to foster; to initiate, to risk personally, to defend and to put one's face on - not “to command”.

«To graze the sheep» is to make oneself present, in a continuous flow of references. This is the climate that convinces, educates, nourishes and sustains, allowing to grow and flourish.

«To ‘shepherd’» is not (precisely) to dominate, but food the ideal. And to begin with the tiny flock (v.15).

Well, in order to ensure the "happy" outcome, the true believer, the friend of the Lord, the son of God, does not ally himself with people who matter - then we will see...

Nor must he “fish” proselytes, but rather expand and cheer life.

The fulness of the "result" is the Joy of every single real woman and man - as they are - not “as should be" according to opinion.

In fact, Jesus does not ask Peter: are you a good administrator? are you a good organizer? are you a skilful animator? Are you well-equipped, intelligent, cunning, smart, well-connected, introduced and versed enough to stand up to your opponents?

[A reflection for the scoutmaster  reads: «Remember, scout leader: if you slow down, they stop; if you yield, they back off; if you sit down, they lie down. If you walk ahead, they will overtake you; if you give your hand, they will give their skin»].

So God's 'enemy' is not uncertainty, but the pursuit of the “average life”. Quagmire where one does not throw oneself.

[Friday 7th wk. in Easter, June 6, 2025]

Mystery of Love and Eros

Jn 21:15-19 (1-19)

The same sign of the superabundant peach in Lk 5:1-11 does not concern the story of the Church after Easter, but is even placed in the day when Jesus invites the first disciples to follow him to become "fishers" of men.

The prodigy of the Vocation expands the believer's journey in Christ and affects every experience we can have of the Risen One in our ordinary work - and which Mission is entrusted to us in order to experience Him Alive.

The Church is not composed of phenomena, but of a stubborn and eager leader [Peter]. Some are in and out [Thomas], others remain tied to the past [Nathanael], and there is no shortage of fanatics [the sons of Zebedee]; hence the anonymous, that is, all of us.

Peter realises that before giving orders, he must do and expose himself: if so, the others, although insubordinate, will decide spontaneously (v.3), expanding their lives.

But without the torch of the Word, no results. Following Peter is not enough and does not save anyone.

Here is Jesus: on the shore of the ultimate condition he calls us and leads the way, he leads the way of activity, and he is finally Light - the Dawn.

The net must be cast from the "right side" (v.6), i.e. the good side!

In order to pull people up from the depths of polluted waters and billows of death to a possibility of respite or self-esteem and full life, one must begin and aim for the best in each one, bring out the good that is always there.

Reminder for us. Every culture possesses many qualities: let us build on them, instead of approaching women and men, ethnic groups or situations, by pointing out limitations and problems.

So the Peter - each community leader - must have no preconceived notions, but take off the cassock of group leader and gird himself in the apron of a servant [v.7: the Greek verb is that of the washing of feet].

For work that gives results according to God (love) one must wear the same garment as Christ - the only badge: the garment of one who does not give orders, but receives them.

This is the trait of the authentic Church - nothing great: it does not arrive on an ocean liner, but on a "little boat" [v.8 Greek text].

And it remains low-key: like a little leaven, to embrace all.

Despite the difficulties in believing, the disciples are constituted as heralds of the news of God favourable to humanity that intends to journey towards itself - without the baggage of overwhelming accumulations of manner.

For communion with God and one's brothers and sisters, in the journey of life and the sense of rebirth that lurks therein [e.g. after pain, travails, experiences of rejection, thoughts of failure and death...]. Jesus had brought out the transmutative capacities already in dowry to each one.

His proposal had supplanted the oppressive yoke of the external perfections preached by religion, replaced precisely with our simple family virtues, grasped from within. Not: to fight, but to welcome. Not: to obey, but to resemble. And so on.

The church was not to become an ethical communion of saints, but of sinners and unbelievers. The story of the unbelieving apostles comforts us: we are already empowered, and with aptitude for fullness. But in its reversal.

It is the resurrection that sends us among men, precisely to be regenerated; just like us. So the apostle status is not subject to the usual doctrinal, moralistic, customary, and religious rigmarole; it no longer lags behind.

Although self-belief remains fragile, we continually experience resurrection from our rubble - raising or at best regenerating the entire organism of the spirit, and the inner universe.

All this shapes a different consciousness of inadequacy: that in Faith - only positive, because it understands the brothers. He recognises them in the depths of himself, and in this way he knows how to justify the resistance to the Announcement.

For it is in the recovery of opposing sides and the synergy of contradictions that we have become - in our own - experts in difficulty. More able to grasp the discomforts; even the feeling of feeling emptied, which sooner or later will give way to the upheaval; unprecedented happy.

Then we have learnt about listening to emotions: the sense of being overwhelmed - even in ideas. And the need to grasp and lose ourselves in sorrows, absurd or unbearable. Dignified sides; faces of ourselves.

In short, for the purpose of vocational fulfilment, everyone is already 'perfect'.

In its bearer of dissimilar energies, it just has to learn to meet the reliefs of itself that it has not yet made way for.

As if within us we have a multiplicity of aspects, often all to be discovered, behind some shell that resists - which complete us and infallibly guide us to personal and social blossoming.

Thus in the exodus we move from death-resurrection experience to true witness - in the spontaneous frankness of being enabled as evangelisers.

Which surprises us. But now the Message becomes our own.It becomes a call for peace, but an explosive one - unbelievable, and one can see this more from its limits (now nothing to fear) than from its ability, or its external style, its ability to set up sententious cathedrals and showcases.

After Christ, there is no longer any need to 'improve' according to a common meaning - nor any expectation, or purpose, that looks to and drinks from the fountain of what has already been said by others [in the past, or for fashion], which then places us back in the same predictable situation as always.

For the shaky apostles, consensus, ancient or glamorous religion, identification, were self-denial at heart.

Conversely, the Calling by Name became the development of what each person was deep inside and had not given himself, manipulating himself.

Road of self-realisation, also in our contribution to our brothers. Also not intimately dissociated.

The only convincing weapon, genuineness - burning within to make us shrines, unconscious and incomplete but living.

Contemplative and in action. Only way to meet souls.

We are collaborators of the apron, to dialogue with those in need of recovery, in whatever condition of whirlwind or periphery they find themselves.

Therefore, 'to shepherd' (vv.15-17) means to precede and nourish, not to command.

Those who lead must be a sign of a God who does not get fed up or repent.

Loving and inviting face of the One who is able to amaze and set Simon on his feet. The chief apostle, who had been called to freedom and had chosen the condition of lackey [cf. Jn 21:9; with the "fire of embers" in Jn 18:18].

At the end of a game of re-proposals, in the dialogue with Simon himself - "of John" because he is still spiritually a pupil of the Baptist (!) - it is Jesus who "settles" for a love of friendship [cf. Greek text] by modifying the double question "do you love me?" with the third: "do you love me?".

Human love waits for a minimum of satisfaction, it fails to shape itself into pure loss - it waits for something, at least a nod of approval and gratitude.

No recognition? Then it is the Strongest who yields.

'To wait' is the infinitive of the verb 'to love', because it allows one to be born again.

Human feeling is in a hurry: it regulates its conduct on the basis of the success or perfections of the beloved.

Divine Love makes up for it; it helps to become another 'person', in the round - it does not break the understanding.

His Calling is not tied to merit or performance: even through works, saying 'I love you' is (unfortunately not infrequently) a fatuous declaration.

Or a sincere expression, but often animated by enthusiasm without a deep root, which on a subsequent test of facts transforms the oath of fidelity into a fragile and uncertain sentiment.

It is the awareness of one's own unpresentability gratuitously redeemed and transformed into the ground of absurd confidence, which transforms self-conceit into apostolate!

This is why Jesus asks Peter to begin by starting with the little ones of the flock (v.15).

And 'to pasture' (vv.15.17) or 'to shepherd' (v.16) means 'to feed': to nurture, to care for, to protect, to favour; to initiate, to risk personally, to defend and to put one's face on - not 'to command'.

To graze is to make oneself present, in a continuous of references. It is this climate that convinces, educates, feeds and sustains, allowing it to grow and flourish.

"To 'shepherd' is [precisely] not to rule, but to feed the ideal. And to begin with the little flock (v.15).

In short, in order to secure the 'happy' outcome, the true believer, the friend of the Lord, the child of God, does not ally himself with people who matter, then we shall see.

Nor must it 'fish' for proselytes, but rather dilate and cheer life.

The fullness of the 'result' is the Happiness of each and every real person - as it is - not as it 'should be' according to established opinion.

In fact, Jesus does not ask Peter: are you a good steward? Are you a good organiser? Are you a skilful animator? Are you equipped, intelligent, cunning and introduced enough to stand up to your adversaries?

So God's 'enemy' is not uncertainty or sin - obsession that breeds the unbalanced - but the pursuit of the 'average life'. They quagmire where one does not throw oneself.

[A reflection for the Scoutmaster reads: "Remember, Scoutmaster: if you slow down, they stop; if you yield, they back off; if you sit down, they lie down. If you walk ahead, they will overtake you; if you give your hand, they will give their skin'].

To internalise and live the message:

Are you an envoy or a mere admirer?

What is your personal Source?

What is the Source of your relationships?

And the root of all faithfulness and generosity that draws you, and shows you?

Total love and not

The school of faith is not a triumphal march, but a path strewn with suffering and love, trials and faithfulness to be renewed every day. Peter, who had promised absolute faithfulness, knows the bitterness and humiliation of denial: the swaggerer learns humility to his cost. Peter too must learn to be weak and in need of forgiveness. When his mask finally falls off and he realises the truth of his weak heart as a believing sinner, he bursts into a liberating cry of repentance. After this weeping he is now ready for his mission.

On a spring morning, this mission will be entrusted to him by the risen Jesus. The encounter takes place on the shores of Lake Tiberias. It is the evangelist John who relates to us the dialogue that takes place between Jesus and Peter on that occasion. There is a very significant play on verbs. In Greek, the verb "filéo" expresses the love of friendship, tender but not all-embracing, while the verb "agapáo" means love without reserve, total and unconditional. Jesus asks Peter the first time: "Simon... do you love me (agapâs-me)" with this total and unconditional love (cf. Jn 21:15)? Before the experience of betrayal, the Apostle would certainly have said: 'I love you (agapô-se) unconditionally'. Now that he has known the bitter sadness of infidelity, the drama of his own weakness, he says with humility: 'Lord, I love you (filô-se)', that is, 'I love you with my poor human love'. Christ insists: "Simon, do you love me with this total love that I want?". And Peter repeats the response of his humble human love: "Kyrie, filô-se", "Lord, I love you as I know how to love". At the third time Jesus only says to Simon: "Fileîs-me?", "do you love me?". Simon understands that Jesus needs only his poor love, the only love he is capable of, and yet he is saddened that the Lord had to say this to him. He therefore replies: 'Lord, you know everything, you know that I love you (filô-se)'. One might say that Jesus adapted himself to Peter, rather than Peter to Jesus! It is precisely this divine adaptation that gives hope to the disciple, who has known the suffering of infidelity. Hence the confidence that makes him capable of following until the end: "This he said to indicate by which death he would glorify God. And having said this he added: 'Follow me'" (Jn 21:19).

From that day on, Peter "followed" the Master with the precise awareness of his own frailty; but this awareness did not discourage him. For he knew that he could count on the presence of the Risen One beside him. From the naive enthusiasm of initial adherence, passing through the painful experience of denial and the weeping of conversion, Peter came to trust in the Jesus who adapted himself to his poor capacity for love. And so he also shows us the way, despite all our weakness. We know that Jesus adapts himself to this weakness of ours. We follow him, with our poor capacity for love, and we know that Jesus is good and accepts us.

(Pope Benedict, General Audience 24 May 2006)

The school of faith is not a triumphal march but a journey marked daily by suffering and love, trials and faithfulness. Peter, who promised absolute fidelity, knew the bitterness and humiliation of denial:  the arrogant man learns the costly lesson of humility. Peter, too, must learn that he is weak and in need of forgiveness.

Once his attitude changes and he understands the truth of his weak heart of a believing sinner, he weeps in a fit of liberating repentance. After this weeping he is finally ready for his mission.

On a spring morning, this mission will be entrusted to him by the Risen Christ. The encounter takes place on the shore of the Lake of Tiberias. John the Evangelist recounts the conversation between Jesus and Peter in that circumstance. There is a very significant play on words.

In Greek, the word "fileo" means the love of friendship, tender but not all-encompassing; instead, the word "agapao" means love without reserve, total and unconditional. Jesus asks Peter the first time:  "Simon... do you love me (agapas-me)" with this total and unconditional love (Jn 21: 15)?

Prior to the experience of betrayal, the Apostle certainly would have said:  "I love you (agapo-se) unconditionally". Now that he has known the bitter sadness of infidelity, the drama of his own weakness, he says with humility:  "Lord; you know that I love you (filo-se)", that is, "I love you with my poor human love". Christ insists:  "Simon, do you love me with this total love that I want?". And Peter repeats the response of his humble human love:  "Kyrie, filo-se", "Lord, I love you as I am able to love you". The third time Jesus only says to Simon:  "Fileis-me?", "Do you love me?".

Simon understands that his poor love is enough for Jesus, it is the only one of which he is capable, nonetheless he is grieved that the Lord spoke to him in this way. He thus replies:  "Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you (filo-se)".

This is to say that Jesus has put himself on the level of Peter, rather than Peter on Jesus' level! It is exactly this divine conformity that gives hope to the Disciple, who experienced the pain of infidelity.

From here is born the trust that makes him able to follow [Christ] to the end:  "This he said to show by what death he was to glorify God. And after this he said to him, "Follow me'" (Jn 21: 19).

From that day, Peter "followed" the Master with the precise awareness of his own fragility; but this understanding did not discourage him. Indeed, he knew that he could count on the presence of the Risen One beside him.

From the naïve enthusiasm of initial acceptance, passing though the sorrowful experience of denial and the weeping of conversion, Peter succeeded in entrusting himself to that Jesus who adapted himself to his poor capacity of love. And in this way he shows us the way, notwithstanding all of our weakness. We know that Jesus adapts himself to this weakness of ours.

We follow him with our poor capacity to love and we know that Jesus is good and he accepts us.

[Pope Benedict, General Audience 24 May 2006]