[...] Gospel presents the first great discourse that the Lord addresses to the people on the gentle hills encircling the Sea of Galilee. “Seeing the crowds,” St Matthew writes, “he went up on the mountain, and when he sat down his disciples came to him. And he opened his mouth and taught them” (Mt 5:1-2).

Jesus, the new Moses, “takes his seat on the cathedra of the mountain” (Jesus of Nazareth, Doubleday, New York 2007, p. 65) and proclaims “blessed” the poor in spirit, those who mourn, the merciful, those who hunger for righteousness, the pure in heart, the persecuted (cf. Mt 5:3-10). It is not a new ideology, but a teaching that comes from on high and touches the human condition, the condition that the Lord, in becoming flesh, wished to assume in order to save it.

Therefore “the Sermon on the Mount is addressed to the entire world, the entire present and future, and yet it demands discipleship and can be understood and lived out only by following Jesus and accompanying him on his journey” (Jesus of Nazareth, p. 69).

The Beatitudes are a new programme of life, to free oneself from the false values of the world and to open oneself to the true goods, present and future. Indeed, when God comforts, he satisfies the hunger for righteousness, he wipes away the tears of those who mourn, which means that, as well as compensating each one in a practical way, he opens the Kingdom of Heaven. “The Beatitudes are the transposition of the Cross and Resurrection into discipleship” (ibid., p. 74). They mirror the life of the Son of God who let himself even be persecuted and despised until he was condemned to death so that salvation might be given to men and women.

An ancient hermit says: “The Beatitudes are gifts of God and we must say a great ‘thank you’ to him for them and for the rewards that derive from them, namely the Kingdom of God in the century to come and consolation here; the fullness of every good and mercy on God’s part … once we have become images of Christ on earth” (Peter of Damascus, In Filocalia, Vol. 3, Turin 1985, p. 79).

The Gospel of the Beatitudes is commented on with the actual history of the Church, the history of Christian holiness, because, as St Paul writes, “God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong, God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are” (1 Cor 1:27-28).

For this reason the Church has no fear of poverty, contempt or persecution in a society which is often attracted by material well-being and worldly power. St Augustine reminds us that “it serves nothing to suffer these evils, but rather to bear them in the Name of Jesus, not only with a serene soul but also with joy” (cf. De sermone Domini in monte, i, 5,13: ccl 35, 13).

Dear brothers and sisters, let us invoke the Virgin Mary, the Blessed par excellence, asking her for the strength to seek the Lord (cf. Zeph 2:3) and to follow him always, with joy, on the path of the Beatitudes.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 30 January 2011]

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven" (Mt 5:3).

From the very beginning of his messianic activity, speaking in the synagogue in Nazareth, Jesus said: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me; therefore he has anointed me, and sent me to proclaim good news to the poor" (Lk 4:18). He considered the poor the most privileged heirs of the kingdom. This means that only "the poor in spirit" are able to receive the kingdom of God wholeheartedly. Zacchaeus' encounter with Jesus shows that even a rich man can become a partaker of Christ's blessedness for the poor in spirit.

Poor in spirit is he who is willing to use his wealth generously for those in need. In that case one can see that he is not attached to those riches. One can see that he understands well the essential purpose of them. Material goods are in fact to serve others, especially those in need. The Church admits personal ownership of these goods, if they are used for this purpose.

Today we remember St Hedwig Queen. His generosity towards the poor is known. Although she was rich, she did not forget the needy. She is an example and model for us, how we should live and put into practice Christ's teaching on love and mercy and make ourselves similar to the one who, as St Paul says, "being rich made himself poor for us, that we might become rich through his poverty" (cf. 2 Cor 8:9).

"Blessed are the poor in spirit". It is the cry of Christ that every Christian, every believing man, should hear today. There is so much need of men who are poor in spirit, that is, open to receive truth and grace, open to the great things of God; of men with big hearts who do not let themselves be enchanted by the splendour of the riches of this world and do not allow them to have dominion over their hearts. They are truly strong, because they are filled with the richness of God's grace. They live in the knowledge that they receive from God unceasingly and without end.

"I possess neither silver nor gold, but what I have I give to you: in the name of Jesus Christ, the Nazarene, walk!" (Acts 3:6) - with these words the Apostles Peter and John responded to the lame man's request of the cripple. They gave him the greatest good that he could have wished for. They transmitted the greatest wealth to the poor: in the name of Christ they restored his health. By this they confess the truth that through the generations is the part of the confessors of Christ.

Behold the poor in spirit, without possessing silver or gold themselves, through Christ have greater power than all the riches of the world can give.

Truly, happy and blessed are these men, for to them belongs the kingdom of heaven. Amen.

[Pope John Paul II, homily Elk 8 June 1999].

"Consider your calling, brethren" (1 Cor 1:26)

1. Today these words of St Paul are addressed to all of us who have come here to the Mount of Beatitudes. We sit on this hill like the first disciples and listen to Jesus. In silence we listen to his gentle and pressing voice, as gentle as this earth itself and as pressing as the invitation to choose between life and death.

How many generations before us have been deeply moved by hearing the Sermon on the Mount! How many young people throughout the ages have gathered around Jesus to learn the words of eternal life, just as you are gathered here today! How many young hearts have been inspired by the power of his personality and the compelling truth of his compelling message! It is wonderful that you are here!

Thank you, Archbishop Boutros Mouallem, for your cordial welcome. Please convey my prayerful greetings to the entire Greek Melkite community you preside over. I extend my fraternal good wishes to the many Cardinals, Patriarch Sabbah, the Bishops, and all the priests present here. I greet the members of the Latin, Maronite, Syrian, Armenian and Chaldean Communities, and all our brothers and sisters of the other Christian Churches and Ecclesial Communities. I address a special word of thanks to our Muslim friends who are here, and to the members of the Jewish faith.

This large gathering is like a dress rehearsal for the World Youth Day that will take place in Rome in August! The young man who spoke promised that you will have another mountain, Mount Sinai! Young people of Israel, of the Palestinian Territories, of Jordan and Cyprus, young people of the Middle East, of Africa and Asia, of Europe, America and Oceania! I greet each one of you with affection and love!

2. The first who heard the Beatitudes of Jesus kept in their hearts the memory of another mountain, Mount Sinai. Just a month ago, I had the grace to go there, where God spoke to Moses and gave him the Law written "by the finger of God" (Ex 31:18) on tablets of stone. These two mountains, Sinai and the Mount of Beatitudes, offer us the map of our Christian life and a summary of our responsibilities towards God and our neighbour. The Law and the Beatitudes together trace the path of following Christ and the royal path to spiritual maturity and freedom.

The Ten Commandments of Sinai may seem negative: "Thou shalt have no other gods before me;.... Thou shalt not kill; Thou shalt not commit adultery; Thou shalt not steal; Thou shalt not bear false witness..." (Ex 20:3, 13 -16), They are, on the other hand, supremely positive. Going beyond the evil they name, they point the way to the law of love that is the first and greatest of the Commandments: 'You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind... You shall love your neighbour as yourself' (Matthew 22: 37, 39). Jesus himself states that he did not come to abolish the Law, but to fulfil it (cf. Mt 5:17). Its message is new, but it does not destroy what already exists. Indeed, it develops its potential to the fullest. Jesus teaches that the way of love brings the law to its full fulfilment (cf. Gal 5:14). And he taught this most important truth on this hill, here in Galilee.

3. "Blessed are you", he says, "Blessed are the poor in spirit, the meek and the merciful, the afflicted, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, the persecuted! Blessed are you!". Jesus' words may seem strange.  It is strange that Jesus exalts those whom the world generally considers weak. He says to them: "Blessed are you who seem to be losers, for you are the true winners: yours is the Kingdom of Heaven!" Spoken by him who is "meek and humble of heart" (Mt 11:29), these words launch a challenge that requires a profound and constant metanoia of the spirit, a great transformation of the heart.

You young people understand why this change of heart is necessary! For you are aware of another voice within you and around you, a contradictory voice. It is a voice that says: 'Blessed are the proud and violent, those who prosper at any cost, who are unscrupulous, merciless, dishonest, who make war instead of peace, and persecute those who stand in their way'. This voice seems to make sense in a world where the violent often triumph and the dishonest seem to succeed. "Yes," says the voice of evil, "these are the ones who win. Blessed are they!"

4. Jesus offers a very different message. Not far from here he called his first disciples, just as he calls you now.  His call has always forced a choice between the two voices competing to win your hearts, even now, here on the hill, the choice between good and evil, between life and death. Which voice will the young people of the 21st century choose to follow?  Putting your trust in Jesus means choosing to believe in what he says, no matter how strange it may sound, and choosing not to give in to the enticements of evil, no matter how attractive they may seem.

After all, Jesus does not just proclaim the Beatitudes. He lives the Beatitudes. He is the Beatitudes. Watching it, you will see what it means to be poor in spirit, meek and merciful, afflicted, to hunger and thirst for justice, to be pure in heart, peacemakers, persecuted. That is why he has the right to say, "Come, follow me!". He does not simply say, 'Do what I say'. He says "Come, follow me!".

You listen to his voice on this hill and believe what he says. However, like the first disciples on the Sea of Galilee, you must leave your boats and nets behind and this is never easy, especially when you face an uncertain future and are tempted to lose faith in your Christian heritage. Being a good Christian may seem like a feat beyond your strength in today's world. Yet Jesus does not stand by and leave you alone to face this challenge. He is always with you to turn your weakness into strength. Believe Him when He says to you: "My grace is sufficient for you; for my power is fully manifested in weakness" (2 Cor 12:9)!

5. The disciples spent time with the Lord. They came to know and love him deeply. They discovered the meaning of what the Apostle Peter once said to Jesus: "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life" (Jn 6:68). They discovered that the words of eternal life are the words of Sinai and the words of the Beatitudes. This is the message they spread everywhere.

At the time of his Ascension, Jesus entrusted his disciples with a mission and this assurance: "All power in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go ye therefore and make disciples of all nations... Behold, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world" (Matthew 28: 18-20). For two thousand years, the followers of Christ have been carrying out this mission. Now, at the dawn of the third millennium, it is your turn. It is up to you to go into the world and proclaim the message of the Ten Commandments and the Beatitudes.  When God speaks, he speaks of things that have the greatest importance for every person, for the people of the 21st century no less than for those of the first century. The Ten Commandments and the Beatitudes speak of truth and goodness, of grace and freedom, of what is necessary to enter the Kingdom of Christ. Now it is your turn to be courageous apostles of that Kingdom!

Young people of the Holy Land, young people of the world, respond to the Lord with an open and willing heart! As willing and open as the heart of the greatest daughter of Galilee, Mary, the Mother of Jesus. How did he respond? She said: "Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord; let it be done to me according to your word" (Lk 1:38).

O Lord Jesus Christ, in this place that you have known and loved so much, listen to these generous young hearts! Continue to teach these young people the truth of the Commandments and the Beatitudes! Make them joyful witnesses of your truth and convinced apostles of your Kingdom! Be with them always, especially when following you and the Gospel becomes difficult and arduous! You will be their strength, you will be their victory!

O Lord Jesus, you have made these young people your friends: keep them forever close to you!

Amen!

[Pope John Paul II, Mount of the Beatitudes 24 March 2000]

Today we are examining the first of the eight Beatitudes of the Gospel of Matthew. Jesus begins to proclaim his path to happiness with a paradoxical announcement: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (5:3). It is a surprising path and poverty is a strange condition for beatitude.

We have to ask ourselves: what does he mean here by the “poor”? If Matthew had only used this word, then the meaning would have been simply economic, that is, it would have meant people who have few or no means of sustenance and are in need of the help of others.

However, unlike Luke’s, the Gospel of Matthew speaks about “poor in spirit”. What does this mean? According to the Bible, the spirit is the breath of life that God communicated to Adam: it is our most intimate dimension, let us say the spiritual dimension, the most intimate one, the one that makes us human beings, the profound core of our being. Thus, “the poor in spirit” are those who are and who feel poor, mendicants in their intimate being. Jesus proclaims them Blessed because the kingdom of heaven belongs to them.

How many times have we been told the opposite! You have to be something in life, be someone ... One must make a name for oneself.... Loneliness and unhappiness stem from this: if I have to be “someone”, then I am in competition with others and I worry excessively about my ego. If I do not accept being poor, I hate everything that reminds me of my fragility. Because this fragility prevents me from becoming an important person, someone who is rich, not only moneywise, even well-known: everything.

Before oneself, everyone knows well that, as much as one does one’s best, he/she remains radically incomplete and vulnerable. There is no trick to cover up this vulnerability. Each of us is vulnerable inside. One has to see where. But how trying life is if one does not accept one’s limitations! Life is hard. One lives poorly. One does not digest the limitation; [yet] it is there. Proud people do not ask for help. They cannot ask for help. It does not come easily to them to ask for help because they have to appear self-sufficient. And how many of them do need help, but their pride prevents them from asking for help. And how difficult it is to admit a mistake and ask for forgiveness! When I offer advice to newlyweds who ask me how to live their marriage well, I tell them: “There are three magic words: may I, thank you, I am sorry”. They are words that come from poverty in spirit. One must not be intrusive but rather say excuse me: “Do you think it is good to do this?”, so there can be dialogue in the family, spouses are in dialogue. “You did this for me, thank you I needed it”. We always make mistakes, one slips: “I am sorry”. And usually couples, newlyweds those who are here and are numerous tell me: “The third one is the hardest”, saying sorry, asking for forgiveness. Because proud people cannot do this. They cannot say they are sorry: they are always right. They are not poor in spirit. The Lord instead, never grows tired of forgiving. Unfortunately, it is we who get tired of asking for forgiveness (cf. Angelus, 17 March 2013). The tiredness of asking for forgiveness. This is a bad state!

Why is it difficult to ask for forgiveness? Because it humiliates our hypocritical image. And yet, constantly seeking to hide one’s weaknesses is tiring and distressing. Jesus Christ tells us: being poor is an opportunity for grace; and he shows us the way out from this difficulty. We are given the right to be poor in spirit because this is the path to the Kingdom of God.

But a fundamental thing must be mentioned: we do not have to transform ourselves to become poor in spirit. We do not have to undergo any transformation because we already are! We are poor ... or more clearly: we are “wretched” in spirit! We are in need of everything. We are all poor in spirit, we are beggars. It is the human condition.

The Kingdom of God is of the poor in spirit. There are those who have kingdoms in this world: they have goods and comforts. But they are kingdoms that end. The power of men and women, even of the greatest empires, pass and disappear. Often we see on the television news or in newspapers that that strong, powerful leader or that government that existed yesterday and no longer exists today, has fallen. The wealth of this world fades away and so does money. The elderly used to teach us that shrouds have no pockets. It is true. I never saw a removal truck behind a funeral procession: no one takes anything with them. This wealth stays here.

The Kingdom of God belongs to the poor in spirit. There are those who have kingdoms in this world, they have goods and comforts. But we know how they end. Only those who know how to love what is truly good more than themselves, reign. And this is the power of God.

In what way did Christ show his power? It was by doing what the kings of the earth do not do: give his life for mankind. And this is true power. The power of fraternity, the power of charity, the power of love, the power of humility. This is what Christ did.

Herein lies true freedom: those who have this power of humility, of service, of fraternity are free. The poverty praised in the Beatitudes is at the service of this freedom.

Because there is a poverty that we have to accept, that of being alive, and a poverty that instead we have to seek, the practical one, in the things of this world, in order to be free and to be able to love. We should always seek freedom of the heart, the freedom that has its roots in our own poverty.

[Pope Francis, General Audience 5 February 2020]

No triumphal march: fragments, to reconcile

(Jn 6:51-58)

The Eucharistic theme conveys a fundamental message, about the quality of Life of the Eternal that we can already experience here and now.

The Life of the Eternal is not the effect of external “belief” in Jesus. Conviction that would stop us, and lose 'contact'.

Instead, it becomes reciprocal, evolves, recovers us, as in a natural energy.

Here is the raw Food, and Drink: by 'chewing’ Him and 'crushing’; 'drinking’ Him and 'gulping’, ‘quaffing’ Him and ‘swilling down' even [verbs used in the Greek text].

Total assimilation, which is converted into an experience - Gift from Person to person.

The Food to be fed on is not a seal, but an everlasting, convoking motion. Not a logical, compassed and consenting doctrine, but Word-event that fully engages.

For this reason, here is the Person of Christ - in his true and full human reality, offered and broken; in his authentic teaching and vicissitude as the paschal lamb, amidst wolves that shredded him.

It is the raw means by which the Life of the Eternal is given and preserved.

In this sense the Eucharist received in bare Faith is the real (not symbolic) Presence of the Risen One.

The harshness of the vocabulary used - not very intimate - scratches the lives of believers with concrete effects in the first person.

«To have Life» is to be united with Jesus - but not in a sweet, sentimental, or dazzling way.

The Pact of a new kingdom is existence in God: a charge that is not exhausted, and ushers us into the paradoxical, wounded glory of the community of sons.

The Eucharist is the reference point of Church recognizing itself, defines what it is called to be. And must not find its perennial bonds elsewhere.

With polemical crudeness, Jesus insists on proposing Himself as the Easter Lamb who rudely chopped up and totally absorbed, frees from slavery - introducing his own intimates in angular but true trajectories.

His proposal passes through an impertinent transgression of legalism: it was absolutely forbidden to assume blood, considered the seat of life.

To make the story of the total Christ one's own - so far removed from controlled thinking - is to mark a contestation of norms and habits or fashions.

In short, others "manna" or external affective dependencies, diluted, conditioning-centred, are not even pale figures of the Living Food.

The life Communion with the concrete Person of Lord is only that of the Son with the Father: cultivating it, we dream of it and keep it there, along with our events - so that they are nourished by same Spirit.

By letting the motivations and the world of images linked to the Lord's Supper evolve, we allow ourselves to be led by the efficacious Sign. It will guide and even lead, precisely where we need to go.

By surrendering to such a memorial that gives intimate impetus, something will happen - for the soul to take the field. We will see other stages give birth.

Here is the Judgement of the wounded Crucified, who sprinkles authentic life (even if inclement); without admirable attunements all around.

This by taking our flesh and blood [involves the body and moods] which assimilates to Him the discarded, those outcasts of earthly thrones and opportunistic entanglements.

This is shocking for the vulgar outside mentality that raises defences and seeks approval, recognition, achievement; mirages of success, things that everyone wants.

Decrease that does not attract enthusiastic consensus, but rather flies in the face of normal expectations of the usual choruses of glory - of the acclamation’ symphonies for whirlwind success and available, but mitigating.

Flesh and Blood: thrown into the furrows of history. We also being involved without dampening the Spirit; in a personal and intimate way: One Body, assimilated into Him and His affair.

First fruits of no triumphal march: we too became food, crumbs and fragments, to reconcile.

Otherwise, the time of the Promises cannot be fulfilled.

[Corpus Christi (year A), June 7, 2026]

(John 6:41–59)

The Mysticism of the Flesh from Heaven

Even in domestic life

(John 6:41–51)

    Jesus wants to turn the page. He does not intend to prop up what is muddled and no longer vital.

He is faithful to the law of change inherent in full Life, which ceaselessly seeks new arrangements – rather than stagnating in the status quo.

This (at all times) whilst the religious authorities and the regulars wish to cling to the past, to what they know, to the ordinary sense of ‘justice’, to the prevailing moral standards…

In short, when Christ’s time comes, everyone leaves. But the conflict is already written.

God does not draw people with forceful compulsion or blackmail, but with an invitation (v.44).

And sincere belief is activated starting from an initial witness within oneself (v.44).

Given his social status as a humble craftsman [a landless man], the ‘murmuring’ (vv. 41, 43) was inevitable, and echoed the very same resistance expressed by God’s people wandering in the desert.

Not only is the divine claim to be authentic Manna incomprehensible, but the very origin of Jesus is incomprehensible to a devoutly quiet, normalised mindset—one that allows itself to be swept along, devoid of enigmas.

The protest is irritated and radical; it favours and mimics what provides immediate security – not the original. But the Lord does not relent, otherwise He would allow us to become chronically stuck.

The need to appear, to be, to do, leaves no room for listening, for perception, for the change that awaits us: they paralyse us.

The Father acts within the depths of each person to reshape convictions, allegiances and plans.

Everything works towards ourselves, not in an unnatural way or for the sake of others – nor even for His own sake.

He acts, present in every person, in the most spontaneous way.

In this manner and at the same time, in accordance with individual principles; more respectful of inclinations, of real characteristics, and of the energies of the times as well.

This teaching (v.45) is inner: embodied by Christ in the Word that distorts nothing – implicit in His Person and story.

Thus the gift of life is linked to assimilating and becoming One with that Food. Food that does not undermine the person, but rather convinces, sustains, ferments, and guides them – in a unique way, by Name.

That Bread, when eaten, captures the flavour of an emptiness from the exterior, at the bottom of which there is no annihilation: we are introduced into redemption, brought into new life.

In conformism, life does not overcome extinction. It lacks the virtue of re-knotting the threads that define the character of the Person, nor the innate quality, the vocational essence, the propulsive capacity [Life of the Eternal].

It is the implicit ‘cultural’, ritual and banal, uninspired, insincere, which does not come alive – and guarantees not fullness but habituation.

As for us, if we have grown accustomed to it.

The bread of the earth sustains life but does not renew, does not regenerate us ceaselessly, nor does it open a path through death.

The Bread that re-actualises for us the ultimate gift of the Son nourishes existence with an indestructible quality that does not fade, for it is the divine Gold of our springing being.

The prophets had announced: in the last days, God would not be known by hearsay but through personal experience.

After the failure of the kings and the priestly class, men would be taught directly by the Lord.

The expression ‘Bread come down from Heaven’ designates Jesus himself in relation to the Father and [precisely] in his mission to bring Wisdom and abundant Life to mankind.

Divine Life, boundless, which pours forth immediately, to each one. Without uncertainties or interpretations veiled by the blurred vision of ‘mediators’, who would instead lead to collapse.

A Presence which, in these complex times, kindles within us too the desire to be taught by God-in-Person, guided by the inner Friend. Filled with regenerating insights, in his Spirit.

He inclines us not to heed a nature that seeks and ‘murmurs’ only for the fleeting ‘taste’ of sustenance: ‘manna in the desert’ (v.49); that is, self-interest, reputation, titles, and trivial satisfactions.

Rather, we rediscover authentic Life in the gift of sound intuition and inner Vision.

In the grace that enables us to accept the Call.

In the virtue that remains attentive – through active fidelity to the Vocation, by means of self-denial and upright intentions that appropriate the virtues and merits of Christ.

‘I am the Living Bread, the one who has come down from heaven. Whoever eats this Bread will live the Life of the Eternal One, and the bread that I will give is my flesh for the full life of the world’ (v.51).

The Spirit who internalises and actualises is the principal Subject of history, even in its brief, daily account of salvation. By becoming our own.

By evangelising us and growing in Friendship [‘taught by God’ (v.45)], the nourishing action of the Master introduces our leavened flesh into the new Life.

The Son beside us changes our ‘taste’ and makes His own the very ‘Nature’ we are familiar with.

In this way, we too, assimilated and identified with the Bread-Person who has become intimate with us, reveal totality in action, living eternity, the original Source.

To internalise and live the message:

How do you enter into the gift of redemption through the Eucharist?

What intentions, ‘contrary’ to the prevailing moral standards, does the Bread of Life seek to convey to you?

Have you ever felt ‘cut off from the earth’ because of your different Food from Heaven?

What opportunities to take the leap have you perhaps overlooked?

Mysticism of the Flesh and Blood

No triumphal march: fragments, to reconcile

(Jn 6:52-59)

    The Eucharistic theme conveys a fundamental message regarding the quality of the Eternal Life we can experience right here and now.

The Eternal Life is not the result of an external ‘belief’ in Jesus. Such a conviction would hold us back and cause us to lose ‘contact’.

Instead, it becomes reciprocal, evolves, and reclaims us, as in a natural energy.

Here is the raw Food and Drink: to ‘chew’ and ‘crush’ it, to ‘drink’ and even ‘gulp’ it down [verbs used in the Greek text].

Total assimilation, which becomes a lived experience – a Gift from Person to person.

The Food to be nourished by is not a seal; rather, a perpetual and summoning movement.

Not a logical, measured and consenting doctrine, but a Word-event that fully engulfs us.

And its story – with all the implications of persecution suffered, and bitterness, as well as acts of denunciation.

[This is an aspect that resonates with the so-called prayer inspired ‘in the Name of Jesus’, that is, a prayer steeped in the significance and dramatic weight of his historical story; one that neither spiritualises nor numbs us in the least, for it sets critical witnesses against established situations].

For this reason, here is the Person of Christ – in his true and full human reality, offered and broken; in his authentic teaching and as the Paschal Lamb.

Amidst wolves who have torn him to pieces.

He is the abrupt means through which the Life of the Eternal One is given and preserved.

In this sense, the Eucharist received in simple Faith is the Real Presence (not symbolic) of the Risen One.

The harshness of the vocabulary used – far from sentimental – cuts into the lives of believers with concrete, first-hand effects, neither automatic nor magical.

Faith highlights the paradigmatic nuptiality: ‘Do you wish to unite your life with mine?’: it is a privileged place – from which we feed and drink, even in its very harshness, to explain it.

It is a Current of life from the Father through the Son, assimilated within us: not devotion.

‘To have Life’ is to be united with Jesus – but not in a saccharine, sentimental, or dazzling way.

We are made fruitful and sent forth, made One with the ‘Son of Man’ [the divine measure for each of us] in the Covenant of events.

Relationship, motive, vehicle, unifying movement, anticipation, which unfold the Communion between Father and Son – without stagnation or pause.

The Covenant of a new kingdom is life in God: an inexhaustible force that introduces us into the paradoxical and wounded glory of the community of children.

The Eucharist is the Church’s point of reference, at times scattered amidst the hypnotic allure of external events.

An assembly that recognises itself; it defines what it is called to be. And it must not seek its enduring bonds elsewhere.

Certain passages in John offer an interesting historical testimony to the catechesis of the late first century in the communities of Asia Minor.

A fraternity in search of ancestral motivations, of the most ancient energies, which would rise above the whirlwinds of persecution and not alter the conscience in Christ.

Instruction took the form of brief questions and answers, formulated to welcome pagans, stem defections, and explore themes in depth.

Topics and impulses that distinguished the living Faith from a religiosity of the past and its perfectionist or commemorative patterns.

Stylistic elements that it was fitting to lay aside, to satisfy the hunger and thirst for fullness – gaining freedom, joy, as well as a more complete, total, indestructible being.

With polemical bluntness, Jesus insists on presenting himself as the Lamb of the true Passover.

A Lamb that, when brutally beaten, cut up, reduced to crumbs, crushed, minced, and totally absorbed, could free us from bondage and bestow the joy of ecstasy.

In this way, he led his followers along jagged yet true paths – ultimately reconnected, both to enable the authentic fulfilment of individual persons and to foster the quality of coexistence.

His proposal involved a defiant transgression of purism, legalism, and the generally devout, inward-looking culture.

In that context, the consumption of blood – considered the seat of life – was strictly forbidden.

To make the story of the total Christ one’s own – so far removed from controlled thought – was to mark a protest.

It was a rejection of symbols, norms, habits or fashions. There would be no alternative, nor any non-offensive compromise.

Not only that: it was also necessary to change the minds of those who imagined they could latch onto the archaic idea of a powerful, victorious Messiah and guarantor for their own gain (whether individual or collective).

Perhaps adaptable, flexible; at the disposal of any sort of Jesus-Empire alliance, which already held some in its spell.

In short, other ‘mannas’ or external emotional dependencies, diluted and centred on conditioning, could not even be pale shadows of the Living Food.

The Communion of life with the concrete Person of the Lord is only that of the Son with the Father.

By cultivating it, we dream of it and hold it there, together with our own affairs – so that they may be nourished by that same Spirit.

By allowing the motivations and the world of images linked to the Lord’s Supper to evolve, we let ourselves be led by the effective Sign.

It will guide us and even lead us precisely where we must go.

By surrendering to this memorial which gives an inner impulse, something will happen – so that the soul may take the field.

Whilst waiting to be ready, we shall learn to understand the fruitfulness and wisdom of the broken Gift-and-Response which ceaselessly brings forth further stages, still activating different resources, perhaps unknown.

Here is the Judgement of the wounded Crucified One who pours out authentic ‘life’, even when harsh; without admirable harmonies all around.

This, by taking on our flesh and blood [involving even the body and its humours], assimilates to Him the outcasts, those outside the circle of earthly thrones and opportunistic alliances.

Something jarring to the vulgar external mindset. A world of convictions that raises defences and seeks approval, recognition, achievements; mirages of success, things everyone wants.

A diminishment that does not attract enthusiastic consent, but rather repels the normal expectations of the usual choruses of glory – of the symphonies of acclamation for the whirlwind success that is readily available, yet mitigating.

Flesh and Blood: cast into the furrows of history.

Involved without dampening the Spirit; in a personal and intimate way. One Body, assimilated to Him and His story.

First fruits of no triumphal march: we too have become food, crumbs and fragments, to reconcile.

Otherwise, the time of the Promises cannot be fulfilled.

Dear Brothers and Sisters, 

"Glorify the Lord, Jerusalem; Zion, praise your God (Responsorial Psalm). 

The invitation of the Psalmist that is also echoed in the Sequence expresses very clearly the meaning of this Eucharistic Celebration: we are gathered here to praise and bless the Lord. This is what urged the Italian Church to gather here in Bari on the occasion of the National Eucharistic Congress.

I also wanted to join all of you today to give special emphasis to the celebration of the Solemnity of the Body and Blood of Christ, thus to pay homage to Christ in the Sacrament of his love and at the same time to strengthen the bonds of communion that bind me to the Church in Italy and to her Pastors. My venerable and beloved Predecessor, Pope John Paul II, would also have liked to have been here at this important ecclesial event, as you know. We all feel that he is close to us and with us is glorifying Christ, the Good Shepherd, whom he can now contemplate directly. 

I greet with affection all of you who are taking part in this solemn liturgy: Cardinal Camillo Ruini and the other Cardinals present, Archbishop Francesco Cacucci of Bari, whom I thank for his kind words, the Bishops of Puglia and those who have come here in large numbers from every corner of Italy; priests, men and women religious and lay people, particularly the young people, and of course, all those who helped in various ways with the organization of the Congress. 

I likewise greet the Authorities who, with their welcome presence, stress that Eucharistic Congresses are part of the history and culture of the Italian people. 

The intention of this Eucharistic Congress, which ends today, was once again to present Sunday as the "weekly Easter", an expression of the identity of the Christian community and the centre of its life and mission. 

The chosen theme - "Without Sunday we cannot live" - takes us back to the year 304, when the Emperor Diocletian forbade Christians, on pain of death, from possessing the Scriptures, from gathering on Sundays to celebrate the Eucharist and from building places in which to hold their assemblies. 

In Abitene, a small village in present-day Tunisia, 49 Christians were taken by surprise one Sunday while they were celebrating the Eucharist, gathered in the house of Octavius Felix, thereby defying the imperial prohibitions. They were arrested and taken to Carthage to be interrogated by the Proconsul Anulinus. 

Significant among other things is the answer a certain Emeritus gave to the Proconsul who asked him why on earth they had disobeyed the Emperor's severe orders. He replied: "Sine dominico non possumus": that is, we cannot live without joining together on Sunday to celebrate the Eucharist. We would lack the strength to face our daily problems and not to succumb. 

After atrocious tortures, these 49 martyrs of Abitene were killed. Thus, they confirmed their faith with bloodshed. They died, but they were victorious: today we remember them in the glory of the Risen Christ. 

The experience of the martyrs of Abitene is also one on which we 21st-century Christians should reflect. It is not easy for us either to live as Christians, even if we are spared such prohibitions from the emperor. From a spiritual point of view, the world in which we find ourselves, often marked by unbridled consumerism, religious indifference and a secularism closed to transcendence, can appear a desert just as "vast and terrible" (Dt 8: 15) as the one we heard about in the first reading from the Book of Deuteronomy. God came to the aid of the Jewish people in difficulty in this desert with his gift of manna, to make them understand that "not by bread alone does man live, but by every word that comes forth from the mouth of the Lord" (Dt 8: 3). 

In today's Gospel, Jesus has explained to us, through the gift of manna, for what bread God wanted to prepare the people of the New Covenant. Alluding to the Eucharist he said: "This is the bread that came down from heaven. Unlike your ancestors who ate and died nonetheless, the man who feeds on this bread shall live forever" (Jn 6: 58). 

In taking flesh, the Son of God could become Bread and thus be the nourishment of his people, of us, journeying on in this world towards the promised land of Heaven. 

We need this Bread to face the fatigue and weariness of our journey. Sunday, the Lord's Day, is a favourable opportunity to draw strength from him, the Lord of life. 

The Sunday precept is not, therefore, an externally imposed duty, a burden on our shoulders. On the contrary, taking part in the Celebration, being nourished by the Eucharistic Bread and experiencing the communion of their brothers and sisters in Christ is a need for Christians, it is a joy; Christians can thus replenish the energy they need to continue on the journey we must make every week. 

Moreover, this is not an arbitrary journey: the path God points out to us through his Word goes in the direction inscribed in man's very existence. The Word of God and reason go together. For the human being, following the Word of God, going with Christ means fulfilling oneself; losing it is equivalent to losing oneself. 

The Lord does not leave us alone on this journey. He is with us; indeed, he wishes to share our destiny to the point of identifying with us. 

In the Gospel discourse that we have just heard he says, "He who feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me, and I in him" (Jn 6: 56). How is it possible not to rejoice in such a promise? 

However, we have heard that at his first announcement, instead of rejoicing, the people started to murmur in protest: "How can he give us his flesh to eat?" (Jn 6: 52). To tell the truth, that attitude has frequently been repeated in the course of history. One might say that basically people do not want to have God so close, to be so easily within reach or to share so deeply in the events of their daily life. 

Rather, people want him to be great and, in brief, we also often want him to be a little distant from us. Questions are then raised that are intended to show that, after all, such closeness would be impossible. 

But the words that Christ spoke on that occasion have lost none of their clarity: "Let me solemnly assure you, if you do not eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you" (Jn 6: 53). Truly, we need a God who is close to us. In the face of the murmur of protest, Jesus might have fallen back on reassuring words: "Friends", he could have said, "do not worry! I spoke of flesh but it is only a symbol. What I mean is only a deep communion of sentiments". 

But no, Jesus did not have recourse to such soothing words. He stuck to his assertion, to all his realism, even when he saw many of his disciples breaking away (cf. Jn 6: 66). Indeed, he showed his readiness to accept even desertion by his apostles, while not in any way changing the substance of his discourse: "Do you want to leave me too?" (Jn 6: 67), he asked. Thanks be to God, Peter's response was one that even we can make our own today with full awareness: "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life" (Jn 6: 68). We need a God who is close, a God who puts himself in our hands and who loves us. 

Christ is truly present among us in the Eucharist. His presence is not static. It is a dynamic presence that grasps us, to make us his own, to make us assimilate him. Christ draws us to him, he makes us come out of ourselves to make us all one with him. In this way he also integrates us in the communities of brothers and sisters, and communion with the Lord is always also communion with our brothers and sisters. And we see the beauty of this communion that the Blessed Eucharist gives us. 

We are touching on a further dimension of the Eucharist that I would like to point out before concluding. 

The Christ whom we meet in the Sacrament is the same here in Bari as he is in Rome, here in Europe, as in America, Africa, Asia and Oceania. He is the one same Christ who is present in the Eucharistic Bread of every place on earth. This means that we can encounter him only together with all others. We can only receive him in unity. 

Is not this what the Apostle Paul said in the reading we have just heard? In writing to the Corinthians he said: "Because the loaf of bread is one, we, many though we are, are one body, for we all partake of the one loaf" (I Cor 10: 17). 

The consequence is clear: we cannot communicate with the Lord if we do not communicate with one another. If we want to present ourselves to him, we must also take a step towards meeting one another. 

To do this we must learn the great lesson of forgiveness: we must not let the gnawings of resentment work in our soul, but must open our hearts to the magnanimity of listening to others, open our hearts to understanding them, eventually to accepting their apologies, to generously offering our own. 

The Eucharist, let us repeat, is the sacrament of unity. Unfortunately, however, Christians are divided, precisely in the sacrament of unity. Sustained by the Eucharist, we must feel all the more roused to striving with all our strength for that full unity which Christ ardently desired in the Upper Room. 

Precisely here in Bari, fortunate Bari, a city that preserves the bones of St Nicholas, a land of encounter and dialogue with our Christian brethren of the East, I would like to reaffirm my desire to assume as a fundamental commitment working with all my might for the re-establishment of the full and visible unity of all Christ's followers. 

I am aware that expressions of good will do not suffice for this. We need concrete acts that penetrate souls and shake consciences, prompting each one to that inner conversion that is the necessary condition for any progress on the path of ecumenism (cf. Message to the Universal Church, Sistine Chapel, 20 April 2005; L'Osservatore Romano English Edition, 27 April, p. 3). 

I ask you all to set out with determination on the path of that spiritual ecumenism which, through prayer, opens the doors to the Holy Spirit, who alone can create unity. 

Dear friends who have come to Bari from various parts of Italy to celebrate this Eucharistic Congress, we must rediscover the joy of Christian Sundays. We must proudly rediscover the privilege of sharing in the Eucharist, which is the sacrament of the renewed world. 

Christ's Resurrection happened on the first day of the week, which in the Scriptures is the day of the world's creation. For this very reason Sunday was considered by the early Christian community as the day on which the new world began, the one on which, with Christ's victory over death, the new creation began. 

As they gathered round the Eucharistic table, the community was taking shape as a new people of God. St Ignatius of Antioch described Christians as "having attained new hope" and presented them as people "who lived in accordance with Sunday" ("iuxta dominicam viventes"). In this perspective, the Bishop of Antioch wondered: "How will we be able to live without him, the One whom the prophets so long awaited?" (Ep. ad Magnesios, 9, 1-2). 

"How will we be able to live without him?". In these words of St Ignatius we hear echoing the affirmation of the martyrs of Abitene: "Sine dominico non possumus". 

It is this that gives rise to our prayer: that we too, Christians of today, will rediscover an awareness of the crucial importance of the Sunday Celebration and will know how to draw from participation in the Eucharist the necessary dynamism for a new commitment to proclaiming to the world Christ "our peace" (Eph 2: 14). Amen!

[Pope Benedict, homily at the conclusion of the 24th National Eucharistic Congress, Spianata Marisabella, Bari, 29 May 2005]

1. "Ecclesia de Eucharistia vivit" - "The Church draws her life from the Eucharist". The Encyclical Letter on the Eucharist, which I signed last Holy Thursday during the Mass of the Lord's Supper, begins with these words. Today's Solemnity of "Corpus Christi" recalls that evocative celebration and at the same time makes us relive the intense atmosphere of the Last Supper.

"Take; this is my body... This is my blood" (Mk 14: 22-24). Let us listen again to Jesus' words while he offers his disciples the bread that has become his Body and the wine that has become his Blood. In this way he inaugurates the new paschal rite: the Eucharist is the sacrament of the new and eternal Covenant.

With those acts and words, Christ brings to fulfilment the long ordinances of the ancient rites, mentioned just now in the First Reading (cf. Ex 24: 3-8).

2. The Church returns constantly to the Upper Room as to the place of her birth. She returns to it because the Eucharistic gift establishes a mysterious "oneness in time" between the Passover of the Lord and the perennial making present of the paschal mystery in the world and in every generation (cf. Ecclesia de Eucharistia, n. 5).

This evening too, with deep gratitude to God, let us reflect in silence before the mystery of faith - mysterium fidei. Let us contemplate it with that profound feeling which, in the Encyclical, I called "Eucharistic amazement" (ibid., n. 6): immense and grateful wonder at the Sacrament in which Christ wanted "to concentrate" forever his entire mystery of love (cf. ibid., n. 5).

Let us contemplate the Eucharistic face of Christ, as did the Apostles and later, the saints of all the centuries. Let us contemplate him above all by learning at the school of Mary, "woman "of the Eucharist' in her whole life" (ibid., n. 53), the One who was "the first "tabernacle' in history" (ibid., n. 55).

3. This is the meaning of the beautiful tradition of Corpus Christi which is renewed this evening. With it, the Church that is in Rome also shows her constitutive link with the Eucharist, and professes joyfully that she "draws her life from the Eucharist".

Her Bishop, the Successor of Peter, and his Brothers in the Episcopate and in the Priesthood also draw their life from the Eucharist; men and women Religious, consecrated lay people and the baptized all draw their life from the Eucharist.

Christian families in particular, to whom a few days ago the Diocesan Ecclesial Convention was dedicated, draw their life from the Eucharist. Dear families of Rome! May the living presence of Christ in the Eucharist foster the grace of marriage in you and allow you to progress on the path of conjugal and family holiness. Draw from this wellspring the secret of your unity and love, imitating the example of the Blessed husband and wife, Luigi and Maria Beltrame Quattrochi, who began their days by partaking in the Eucharistic Banquet.

4. After Holy Mass, we will set out praying and singing for the Basilica of St Mary Major. With this procession we want to express symbolically our existence as pilgrims, "viatores", bound for the heavenly homeland.

We are not alone on our pilgrimage: Christ, the Bread of life, walks with us: "panis angelorum, factus cibus viatorum" - "Lo the angel's food is given to the pilgrim..." (Sequence).

May Jesus, the spiritual food that nourishes the hope of believers, sustain us on this journey towards Heaven and strengthen our communion with the heavenly Church.

The Most Holy Eucharist, a glimpse of Heaven appearing on earth, pierces the clouds of our history. A glorious ray of the heavenly Jerusalem, it lights up our journey (cf. Ecclesia de Eucharistia, n. 19).

5. "Ave verum corpus natum de Maria Virgine": Hail, true Body of Christ, born of the Virgin Mary!

The soul melts into wonder and adoration before so sublime a Mystery.

"Vere passum, immolatum in cruce pro homine". From your death on the Cross, O Lord, flows life for us which never dies.

"Esto nobis praegustatum mortis in examine". O Lord, obtain that each one of us, nourished by you, may face all of life's trials with confident hope, until the day when you will be our viaticum for the last journey to the Father's house.

"O Iesu dulcis! O Iesu pie! O Iesu, fili Mariae! - O sweet Jesus, O pious Jesus! O Jesus, Son of Mary!".

[Pope John Paul II, homily 19 June 2003]

Today, in Italy and in other nations, the Solemnity of the Body and Blood of Christ, Corpus Christi, is being celebrated. In the second Reading of today’s liturgy, Saint Paul reawakens our faith in this mystery of communion (cf. 1 Cor 10:16-17). He highlights two effects of the shared chalice and the broken bread: the mystical effect and the communal effect.

First, the Apostle states: “The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread which we break is it not a participation in the body of Christ?” (v. 16). These words express the mystical effect, or we might say the spiritual effect of the Eucharist: it relates to the union with Christ, who in the bread and the wine offers himself for the salvation of all. Jesus is present in the sacrament of the Eucharist to be our nourishment, to be assimilated and to become in us that renewing force that gives once again the energy and gives once more the desire to set out again after every pause or after every fall. But this requires our consent, our willingness to let ourselves, our way of thinking and acting, be transformed. Otherwise the Eucharistic celebrations in which we participate are reduced to empty and formal rituals. Often some go to Mass because they have to go, as if it were a social event, respectful but social. However, the mystery is something else. It is Jesus who is present and comes to nourish us.

The second effect is the communal one, and is expressed by Saint Paul in these words: “Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body” (v. 17). It is the mutual communion of those who participate in the Eucharist, to the point of becoming one body among them, in the same way that the bread that is broken and distributed is one. We are a community nourished by the body and blood of Christ. We are a community, nourished by the body and blood of Christ. Communion with the body of Christ is an effective sign of unity, of communion, of sharing. One cannot participate in the Eucharist without committing oneself to mutual fraternity, which is sincere. But the Lord knows well that our human strength alone is not enough for this. On the contrary, He knows that among His disciples there will always be the temptation of rivalry, envy, prejudice, division... We are all aware of these things. For this reason too He left us the Sacrament of His real, tangible and permanent Presence, so that, in remaining united to him, we may always receive the gift of fraternal love. “Abide in my love” (Jn 15:9), Jesus said; and this is possible thanks to the Eucharist. To abide in friendship, in love.

This twofold fruit of the Eucharist: first, union with Christ and second, communion between those who are nourished by him, generates and continually renews the Christian community. It is the Church that makes the Eucharist, but it is more fundamental that the Eucharist makes the Church, and allows her to be her mission, even before she accomplishes it. This is the mystery of communion, of the Eucharist: receiving Jesus so He may transform us from within, and receiving Jesus so that He may create unity in us and not division.

May the Blessed Virgin help us to always welcome with wonder and gratitude the great gift that Jesus gave us by leaving us the Sacrament of His Body and His Blood.

[Pope Francis, Angelus, 14 June 2020]

Small coins and festival of the voracious God, in solemn appearances

(Mk 12:38-44)

Jesus faces the treasure of the Temple, the true ‘god’ of the whole sanctuary. The comparison is ruthless: one as opposed to the other (v.41).

Enigma that could not be solved with a simple ‘purification’ of the sacred place, or a replenishment of devotion.

It will be surprising, but the Gospel passage does not sing praises of individual humility which by faith deprives itself of everything: it is rather a radical appeal to church leaders and to the sense of institution.

The Lord is saddened by every expropriation conditioned by awe. Indeed, fear takes life from those who do not enjoy fullness.

Christ weeps the subordinate condition of the poor and neglected: He does not make her take the chair. He does not credit the situation. He does not want the woman already naked by two cents to undress all.

He seems distraught for that one silent figure; to underline the difference between the voracious demands of the ancient religions’ God and those of a completely different sign - in our favor - of the Father in the Faith.

While Jesus noticed and was mourning on the minuteous gesture of the little woman, the Apostles did not even notice the irrelevant poor creature, continuing to gape at the magnificence of the Temple.

Who knows what they were dreaming about... seduced by honor.

To divert them from the fever of reputation and considerations they desired to boast of, there was a need for an awareness; but to move them out of their place and yardstick the miracles would not have been enough.

Thus Jesus seeks to convey in conscience the Good News that the Father is the exact opposite of how he had been painted to them by the spiritual guides of the time.

The Eternal disconcerts: He does not take, does not appropriate, does not plunder, nor does absorb or debilitate us - but He is the One who gives.

He does not punish if you do not placate Him with both the little coins you have, without withholding a single one - even if only by doing in half (v.2).

The honour to God is not exclusive, but inclusive.

Paraphrasing the encyclical Fratelli Tutti, we could say that in authentic communities [as in families] «everyone contributes to the common purpose; everyone works for the common good, not denying each person’s individuality but encouraging and supporting it» (n.230).

The Son notes with bitterness that the beautiful protagonists themselves «devour the houses of widows» (v.40) as vampires. So convincing as to make the souls of the simple even their supporters and victims.

Christ is saddened by such unconscious complicity, induced by the lack of knowledge of the Father’s Face - preached as a leech God.

In fact, in the path of personal Faith true believers are not repeaters of external roles (vv.38-40).

We collaborate with the creative and deifying work of the Eternal in offering ourselves as a vital food for the humanity to which the Bridegroom has been taken away - here in the figure of the poor «widow» who bleed out.

In short, we must no longer macerate and wear ourselves out, because of the glory of the Almighty, but enrich ourselves with Him and pronounce fully!

A God all substance, of little epidermal appearance.

Yet the antithesis of the rich and poor was resurfacing in the early communities... to the detriment of the isolated.

Here, precisely the reversal of the fortunes had to become characteristic of the adoring Church, which is immersed in the same rhythm of the supreme vital Source.

It will therefore be the amiable institution that will remain naked and pilgrim, even in the space of the small and unsteady.

And the action of the assemblies of believers will be able to activate a new, convivial world, humanizing disharmonies.

A reality that beats ‘time’. For a ‘Kingdom’ really not neutral. But where does the soul counts, not the curriculum.

[Saturday 9th wk. in O.T.  June 6, 2026]

At the heart of the Liturgy of the Word we find the figure of the poor widow or, more precisely, we find her gesture when she dropped her last coins into the collection box of the Temple treasury. Thanks to Jesus' attentive look it has become the proverbial "widow's mite" and indeed is synonymous with the generosity of those who give unsparingly the little they possess. However, I would like first of all to emphasize the importance of the atmosphere in which this Gospel episode takes place, that is, the Temple of Jerusalem, the religious centre of the People of Israel and the heart of its whole life. The Temple was the place of public and solemn worship, but also of pilgrimage, of the traditional rites and of rabbinical disputations such as those recorded in the Gospel between Jesus and the rabbis of that time in which, however, Jesus teaches with unique authority as the Son of God. He judges the scribes severely as we have heard because of their hypocrisy: indeed, while they display great piety they are exploiting the poor, imposing obligations that they themselves do not observe. Indeed, Jesus shows his affection for the Temple as a house of prayer but for this very reason wishes to cleanse it from improper practices; actually he wants to reveal its deepest meaning which is linked to the fulfilment of his own Mystery, the Mystery of his death and Resurrection, in which he himself becomes the new and definitive Temple, the place where God and man, the Creator and his creature, meet. 

The episode of the widow's mite fits into this context and leads us, through Jesus' gaze itself, to focus our attention on a transient but crucial detail: the action of the widow, who is very poor and yet puts two coins into the collection box of the Temple treasury. Jesus is saying to us too, just as he said to his disciples that day: Pay attention! Take note of what this widow has done, because her act contains a great teaching; in fact, it expresses the fundamental characteristic of those who are the "living stones" of this new Temple, namely the total gift of themselves to the Lord and to their neighbour; the widow of the Gospel, and likewise the widow in the Old Testament, gives everything, gives herself, putting herself in God's hands for others. This is the everlasting meaning of the poor widow's offering which Jesus praises; for she has given more than the rich, who offer part of what is superfluous to them, whereas she gave all that she had to live on (cf. Mk 12: 44), hence she gave herself.

[Pope Benedict, homily in Brescia, 8 November 2009]