May the Lord bless us and may the Virgin protect us!

7th Sunday of Ordinary Time Year C (23 February 2025)

Reading from the First Book of Samuel (26,2.7-9.12-13.22-23)

Saul was the first king of the people of Israel, around 1040 BC. The texts say that "no son of Israel was more handsome than he, and he surpassed from the shoulder upwards anyone else of the people" (1 Sam 9:2). He was a peasant from a simple family in the tribe of Benjamin, chosen by God and anointed king by the prophet Samuel, who initially hesitated because he distrusted monarchy in general, but had to obey God. Saul was anointed with oil and bore the title 'messiah'.  After a good start, Saul unfortunately proved Samuel's worst fears right: his personal pleasure, love of power and war prevailed over loyalty to the covenant. It was so bad that, without waiting for the end of his reign, Samuel, at God's command, set out to find his successor and chose David, the little shepherd from Bethlehem, the eighth son of Jesse. David was received into Saul's court and gradually became a skilful war leader, whose achievements were the talk of the town. One day, Saul heard the popular song that circulated everywhere: "Saul has slain his thousand, and David his ten thousand" (1 Sam 18:7) and was seized with jealousy that became so fierce towards David that he went mad. David had to flee several times to save himself, but contrary to Saul's suspicions, David never failed in his loyalty to the king. In the episode narrated here, it is Saul who takes the initiative: the three thousand men spoken of were gathered by him for the sole purpose of satisfying his hatred for David. "Saul went down into the wilderness of Zif with three thousand chosen men of Israel to seek David" (v. 2) and his intention was clear: to eliminate him as soon as possible. But the situation is reversed in David's favour: during the night David enters Saul's camp and finds everyone asleep, thus a favourable opportunity to kill him. Abisai, David's bodyguard, has no doubts and offers to kill him: 'Today God has put your enemy in your hands. Let me therefore nail him to the ground with my spear in one stroke and I will not add the second" (v 8). David surprises everyone, including Saul, who can hardly believe his eyes when he sees the proof that David has spared him. Two questions arise: why did David spare the one who wanted his death? The only reason is respect for God's choice: "I would not stretch out my hand against the messiah of the Lord" (v.11).  Why does the Bible recount this episode? There are certainly several reasons. Firstly, the sacred author wants to paint a portrait of David: respectful of God's will and magnanimous, refusing vengeance and understanding that Providence never manifests itself by simply delivering the enemy into one's own hands. Secondly, because the reigning king is untouchable and it should not be forgotten that this account was written in the court of Solomon, who had every interest in passing on this teaching. Finally, this text represents a stage in the biblical story, a moment in God's pedagogy: before learning to love all men, one must begin by finding some good reason to love some of them. David spares a dangerous enemy because he was, in his time, God's chosen one. The last stage will be to understand that every man is to be respected everywhere because the image of God is marked in him. We are all created in the image and likeness of God.

*Psalm 102 (103) 1-2, 3-4, 8. 10. 12-13

This psalm is encountered several times in the three liturgical years and we can admire the parallelism of the verses, a kind of alternation of verses that answer each other. It would be good to recite or sing it in two voices, line by line or in two alternating choirs. First chorus: "Bless the Lord, my soul" ... Second chorus: "May all that is in me bless his holy name" ... First chorus: "He forgives all your sins ... Second chorus: "He does not treat us according to our sins". And so on. Another characteristic is the joyful tone of the thanksgiving. The expression 'Bless the Lord, my soul' is repeated as an inclusion in the first and last verses of the psalm. Of all the blessings, the verses chosen for this Sunday insist on God's forgiveness: "He forgives all your faults... Merciful and gracious is the Lord, slow to anger and great in love; he does not treat us according to our sins nor repay us according to our faults. As far as the east is from the west, so he turns away our faults from us." Several times we have noted this: one of the great discoveries of the Bible is that God is only love and forgiveness. And that is precisely why he is so different from us and constantly surprises us. When the prophet Isaiah says: "My thoughts are not your thoughts, says God; your ways are not my ways" (55:6-8), he invites us to seek the Lord while he is being found, to call upon him while he is near. He invites the ungodly to forsake his way and the perverse man his thoughts, and adds: 'Return to the Lord who will have mercy on him, to our God who graciously forgives' - and adds - 'because my thoughts are not your thoughts'. Precisely the conjunction 'because' gives meaning to the whole sentence: it is precisely his inexhaustible mercy that makes the difference between God and us. Some five hundred years before Christ, it was already understood that God's forgiveness is unconditional and precedes all our prayers or repentance. God's forgiveness is not a punctual act, an event, but is its very essence. However, it is only we who can freely make the gesture of going to receive this forgiveness of God and renew the Covenant; he will never force us and so we go to him with confidence, we take the necessary step to enter into God's forgiveness that is already acquired. On closer inspection, this is a discovery that goes back to very ancient times. When Nathan announced God's forgiveness to King David, who had just gotten rid of his lover's husband, Bathsheba, David in truth had not yet had time to express the slightest repentance.  After reminding him of all the benefits with which God had filled him, the prophet added: "And if this were little, I would add still more" (2 Sam 12:8). Here is the meaning of the word forgiveness, made up of two syllables that it is good to separate "for - gift" to indicate the perfect gift, a gift beyond offence and beyond ingratitude; it is the covenant always offered despite infidelity. Forgiving those who have wronged us means continuing, in spite of everything, to offer them a covenant, a relationship of love or friendship; it means accepting to see that person again, to extend our hand to them, to welcome them at our table or in our home anyway; it means risking a smile; it means refusing to hate and to take revenge. However, this does not mean forgetting. We often hear people say: I can forgive but I will never forget. In reality, these are two completely different things. Forgiveness is neither forgetting nor erasing what has happened because nothing will erase it, whether it is good or bad. There are offences that can never be forgotten because the irreparable has happened. It is precisely this that gives greatness and gravity to our human lives: if a wipe-out could erase everything, what would be the point of acting well? We could do anything. Forgiveness therefore does not erase the past, but opens up the future. It breaks the chains of guilt, brings inner liberation and allows us to start again. When David had Bathsheba's husband killed, nothing could repair the evil committed. But David, forgiven, was able to raise his head again and try not to do evil any more. When parents forgive the murderer of one of their children, it does not mean that they forget the crime committed, but it is precisely in their grief that they find the strength to forgive, and forgiveness becomes a profoundly liberating act for themselves. Those who are forgiven will never again be innocent, but they can raise their heads again. Without arriving at such serious crimes, everyday life is marked by more or less serious acts that sow injustice or pain. By forgiving and receiving forgiveness we stop looking at the past and turn our gaze to the future. This is how it is in our relationship with God since no one can claim to be innocent, but we are all forgiven sinners.

*Second Reading from the First Epistle of St Paul the Apostle to the Corinthians (15:45-49)

St Paul's meditation on Christ's resurrection and ours continues and is addressed to Christians of Greek origin who would like to have a clear and precise answer on the resurrection of the flesh, when and how it will take place. Paul has already explained last Sunday that the resurrection is an article of faith whereby not believing in the resurrection of the dead means not believing in the resurrection of Christ either. Now he addresses the question: How do the dead rise and with what body do they return? In truth he acknowledges that he does not know what the resurrected will look like, but what he can say with certainty is that our resurrected body will be completely different from our earthly one. If we consider that Jesus who appeared after the resurrection was not immediately recognised by his disciples and Mary Magdalene mistook him for the gardener, this shows that he was the same and, at the same time, completely different. Paul distinguished an animal body from a spiritual body, and the expression spiritual body surprised his listeners who knew the Greek distinction between body and soul. However, being Jewish, he knew that Jewish thought never contrasts the body and the soul, and his Jewish training led him instead to contrast two types of behaviour: that of the earthly man and that of the spiritual man, inaugurated by the Messiah. In every man, God has insufflated a breath of life that makes him capable of spiritual life, but he still remains an earthly man. Only in the Messiah fully dwells the very Spirit of God, which guides his every action. To argue, Paul refers to Genesis, in which he reads the vocation of mankind, but does not interpret it historically. For him, Adam is a type of man or, rather, a type of behaviour. This reading may seem unusual to us, but we must get used to reading the creation texts in Genesis not as an account of events, but as accounts of vocation. By creating humanity (Adam is a collective name), God calls it to an extraordinary destiny. Adam, the earthly being, is called to become the temple of God's Spirit. And it must be remembered that in the Bible, Creation is not considered an event of the past because the Bible speaks much more of God the Creator than of Creation; it speaks of our relationship with God: we were created by Him, we depend on Him, we are suspended from His breath and it is not about the past, but about the future. The act of creation is presented to us as a project still in progress: in the two accounts of creation, man has a role to play. "Be fruitful and multiply, fill the earth and subdue it" in the first account (Gen 1:28). "The LORD God took man and put him in the garden of Eden to till it and keep it" in the second account (Gen 2:15). And this task concerns all of us, since Adam is a collective name representing the whole of humanity. Our vocation, Genesis goes on to say, is to be the image of God, that is, inhabited by the very Spirit of God. "God said, Let us make man in our image, in our likeness...God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him, male and female he created them." (Gen 1:26-27). Adam is also the type of man who does not respond to his calling; he allowed himself to be influenced by the serpent, who instilled in him, like a poison, distrust of God. This is what Paul calls earthly behaviour, like the serpent crawling on the ground. Jesus Christ, the new Adam, on the other hand, allows himself to be guided only by the Spirit of God. In this way, he fulfils the vocation of every man, i.e. of Adam; this is the meaning of Paul's sentence: "Brothers, the first man, Adam, became a living being but the last Adam (i.e. Christ) became a life-giving spirit."

The message is clear: Adam's behaviour leads to death, Christ's behaviour leads to life. However, we are constantly torn between these two behaviours, between heaven and earth, and we can make Paul's expression our own when he cries out: 'Wretched man that I am! I do not do the good that I want, but do the evil that I do not want." (Rom 7:24, 19). In other words, the individual and collective history of all mankind is a long journey to allow ourselves to be inhabited more and more by the Spirit of God.  Paul writes: "The first man from earth is made of earth, the second man is from heaven. As the earthly man is, so are those of the earth; and as the heavenly man is, so are the heavenly". And St John observes: 'Beloved, even now we are children of God, but what we shall be has not yet been revealed. We know, however, that when he is revealed, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is." (1 John 3:2). The perfect image of God in Jesus Christ, the apostles saw it on the face of Christ during the Transfiguration.

Note: the serpent crawling on the ground tempts mankind (Adam - adam man related to adamah earth, is not the name of a person but indicates the whole of mankind made of earth Gn1,26-27) and the name of the serpent is nahash a word that can mean either serpent or the dragon of Revelation: Gn3,15; Rev 12)

*From the Gospel according to Luke (6:27-38)

"Be merciful as your Father is merciful" and you will then be children of the Most High, for he is good to the ungrateful and the wicked.  This is the programme of every Christian, it is our vocation. The entire Bible appears as the story of man's conversion as he gradually learns to master his own violence. It is certainly not an easy process, but God is patient, because, as St Peter says, one day is like a thousand years and a thousand years like one day (cf. 2 Pet 3:8) and he educates his people with such patience, as we read in Deuteronomy: "As a man corrects his son, so the Lord your God corrects you" (Deut 8:5). This slow eradication of violence from the human heart is expressed figuratively as early as the book of Genesis: violence is presented as a form of animality. Let us take the account of the Garden of Eden: God had invited Adam to name the animals, to symbolise his superiority over all creatures. God had in fact conceived Adam as the king of creation: "Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. Dominion over the fish of the sea, over the birds of the air, over the cattle, over all the wild beasts, and over all the reptiles that creep upon the earth" (Gen 1:26). And Adam himself had recognised that he was different, that he was superior: "Man gave a name to all the animals, to the birds of the air, and to all the wild beasts; but for man he found no helper to match him" (Gen 2:20). Man did not find his equal. But two chapters later, we find the story of Cain and Abel. At the moment when Cain is seized with a mad desire to kill, God says to him: "Sin is crouching (like a beast) at your door. It lurks, but you must master it' (Gen 4:7). And starting from this first murder, the biblical text shows the proliferation of vengeance (Gen 4:1-26). From the very first chapters of the Bible, violence is thus recognised: it exists, but it is unmasked and compared to an animal. Man no longer deserves to be called man when he is violent. The biblical texts thus embark on the arduous path of converting the human heart. On this path, we can distinguish stages. Let us pause on the first: "An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth" (Ex 21:24). In response to the terrible boast of Lamech (Gen 4:23), great-grandson of Cain, who gloried in killing men and children to avenge simple scratches, the Law introduced a first limit: a single tooth for a tooth, and not the whole jaw; a single life for a life, and not a whole village in retaliation. The law of retaliation thus already represented significant progress, even if it still seems insufficient today. The pedagogy of the prophets constantly addresses the problem of violence, but comes up against a great psychological difficulty: the man who agrees not to take revenge fears losing his honour. The biblical texts then show man that his true honour lies elsewhere: it consists precisely in resembling God, who is 'good to the ungrateful and the wicked'. Jesus' discourse, which we read this Sunday, represents the last stage of this education: from the law of retaliation we have moved on to the invitation to gentleness, to disinterestedness, to perfect gratuitousness. He insists: twice, at the beginning and at the end, he says "Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you"... "Love your enemies, do good and lend without hoping for anything in return". And so the ending surprises us a little: up to this point, although it was not easy, at least it was logical. God is merciful and invites us to imitate him. But here the last lines seem to change tone: 'Do not judge and you will not be judged; do not condemn and you will not be condemned. Forgive and you will be forgiven. Give and it will be given to you: a good measure, pressed down, shaken and overflowing will be poured into your lap, for with the measure with which you measure, it will be measured to you in return' (Lk 6:37-38). Have we returned to a logic of 'quid pro quo'? Of course not! Jesus is simply pointing out to us here a very reassuring path: in order not to fear being judged, simply do not judge or condemn others. Judge actions, but never people. Establish a climate of benevolence. In this way, fraternal relations will never be broken. As for the phrase: "Your reward will be great and you will be children of the Most High", it expresses the wonderment experienced by those who conform to the Christian ideal of meekness and forgiveness. It is the profound transformation that takes place in them: for they have opened the door to the Spirit of God, and he dwells in them and inspires them more and more. Little by little they see the promise formulated by the prophet Ezekiel fulfilled in them: "I will give you a new heart, I will put a new spirit within you; I will take away from you the heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh." (Ez 36:26).

+Giovanni D'Ercole

Summary on request: Short commentary.

Reading from the First Book of Samuel (26.2.7-9.12-13.22-23)

Saul was the first king of the people of Israel, around 1040 B.C. He was a peasant from a simple family of the tribe of Benjamin, chosen by God and anointed king by the prophet Samuel, who initially hesitated because he distrusted monarchy in general, but had to obey God. After a good start, Saul unfortunately proved Samuel's worst fears right: his personal pleasure, love of power and war prevailed over loyalty to the Covenant. It was so bad that, without waiting for the end of his reign, Samuel, at God's command, set out to find his successor and chose David, the little shepherd from Bethlehem, the eighth son of Jesse. David was received into Saul's court and gradually became a skilful war leader, whose achievements were the talk of the town. One day, Saul heard the popular song that circulated everywhere: "Saul has slain his thousand, and David his ten thousand" (1 Sam 18:7) and was seized with jealousy that became so fierce towards David that he went mad. David had to flee several times to save himself, but contrary to Saul's suspicions, David never failed in his loyalty to the king. In the episode narrated here, it is Saul who takes the initiative: the three thousand men spoken of were gathered by him for the sole purpose of satisfying his hatred for David. "Saul went down into the wilderness of Zif with three thousand chosen men of Israel to search for David" (v 2) and his intention was clear: to eliminate him as soon as possible. But the situation is reversed in David's favour: during the night David enters Saul's camp and finds everyone asleep, thus a favourable opportunity to kill him. Abisai, David's bodyguard, has no doubts and offers to kill him: 'Today God has put your enemy in your hands. Let me therefore nail him to the ground with my spear in one stroke and I will not add the second" (v 8). David surprises everyone, including Saul, who can hardly believe his eyes when he sees the proof that David has spared him. Two questions arise: why did David spare the one who wanted his death? The only reason is respect for God's choice: "I would not stretch out my hand against the messiah of the Lord" (v.11).  The sacred author wants to outline the portrait of David: respectful of God's will and magnanimous, who refuses revenge and understands that Providence never manifests itself by simply delivering the enemy into one's own hands. Secondly, because the reigning king is untouchable and it should not be forgotten that this account was written in the court of Solomon, who had every interest in passing on this teaching. Finally, this text represents a stage in the biblical story, a moment in God's pedagogy: before learning to love all men, one must begin to find some good reason to love some, and David spares a dangerous enemy because as king he is God's chosen one. The last stage will be to understand that every man is to be respected because we are all created in the image and likeness of God.

*Psalm 102 (103) 1-2, 3-4, 8. 10. 12-13

This psalm would be good to recite or sing in two voices, in two alternating choirs. First chorus: "Bless the Lord, my soul"... Second chorus: "Let all that is in me bless his holy name"... First chorus: "He forgives all your sins... Second chorus: "He does not treat us according to our sins". And so on. Another characteristic is the joyful tone of the thanksgiving. The expression 'Bless the Lord, my soul' is repeated as an inclusion in the first and last verses of the psalm. Of all the benefits, the verses chosen for this Sunday insist on God's forgiveness: "For he forgives all your faults... Merciful and gracious is the Lord, slow to anger and great in love; he does not deal with us according to our sins, nor repay us according to our faults... "for my thoughts are not your thoughts". Precisely the conjunction 'because' gives meaning to the whole sentence: it is precisely his inexhaustible mercy that makes the difference between God and us. Some five hundred years before Christ, it was already understood that God's forgiveness is unconditional and precedes all our prayers or repentance. God's forgiveness is not a punctual act, an event, but is its very essence. However, it is only we who can freely make the gesture of going to receive this forgiveness of God and renew the Covenant; He will never force us and so we go to Him with confidence, we take the necessary step to enter into God's forgiveness that is already acquired. On closer inspection, this is a discovery that goes back to very ancient times. When Nathan announced God's forgiveness to King David, who had just gotten rid of his lover's husband, Bathsheba, David in truth had not yet had time to express the slightest repentance.  After reminding him of all the benefits with which God had filled him, the prophet added: "And if this were little, I would add still more" (2 Sam 12:8). Here is the meaning of the word forgiveness, made up of two syllables that it is good to separate "for - gift" to indicate the perfect gift, a gift beyond offence and beyond ingratitude; it is the covenant always offered despite infidelity. Forgiving those who have wronged us means continuing, in spite of everything, to offer them a covenant, a relationship of love or friendship; it means refusing to hate and to take revenge. However, this does not mean forgetting. We often hear people say: I can forgive but I will never forget. In reality, these are two completely different things. Forgiveness is not a blank slate. There are offences that can never be forgotten, because the irreparable has happened. It is precisely this that lends greatness and gravity to our human lives: if a wipe-out could erase everything, what would be the point of acting well? We could do anything. Forgiveness therefore does not erase the past, but opens up the future. It breaks the chains of guilt, brings inner liberation and allows us to start again. When David had Bathsheba's husband killed, nothing could repair the evil committed. But David, forgiven, was able to raise his head again and try not to do evil any more. When parents forgive the murderer of one of their children, it does not mean that they forget the crime committed, but it is precisely in their grief that they find the strength to forgive, and forgiveness becomes a profoundly liberating act for themselves. Those who are forgiven will never again be innocent, but they can raise their heads again. Without arriving at such serious crimes, everyday life is marked by more or less serious acts that sow injustice or pain. By forgiving and receiving forgiveness we stop looking at the past and turn our gaze to the future. This is how it is in our relationship with God since no one can claim to be innocent, but we are all forgiven sinners.

*Second Reading from the First Epistle of St Paul the Apostle to the Corinthians (15:45-49)

St Paul's meditation on Christ's resurrection and ours continues and is addressed to Christians of Greek origin who would like to have a clear and precise answer on the resurrection of the flesh, when and how it will take place. Paul has already explained last Sunday that the resurrection is an article of faith whereby not believing in the resurrection of the dead means not believing in the resurrection of Christ either. Now he addresses the question: How do the dead rise and with what body do they return? In truth he acknowledges that he does not know what the resurrected will look like, but what he can say with certainty is that our resurrected body will be completely different from our earthly one. If we consider that Jesus who appeared after the resurrection was not immediately recognised by his disciples and Mary Magdalene mistook him for the gardener, this shows that he was the same and, at the same time, completely different. Paul distinguished an animal body from a spiritual body, and the expression spiritual body surprised his listeners who knew the Greek distinction between body and soul. However, being Jewish, he knew that Jewish thought never contrasts the body and the soul, and his Jewish training led him instead to contrast two types of behaviour: that of the earthly man and that of the spiritual man, inaugurated by the Messiah. In every man, God has insufflated a breath of life that makes him capable of spiritual life, but he still remains an earthly man. In order to argue, Paul refers to Genesis and sees Adam as a type of behaviour because the creation account in Genesis is not an account of events, but the account of a vocation. By creating humanity (Adam is a collective name), God calls it to an extraordinary destiny. Adam, the earthly being, is called to become the temple of God's Spirit. And it must be remembered that in the Bible, Creation is not seen as an event of the past, but speaks of our relationship with God: we were created by Him, we depend on Him, we are suspended from His breath and it is not about the past, but about the future. The creative act is presented to us as a project still in progress: in the two accounts of creation, man has a role to play. "Be fruitful and multiply, fill the earth and subdue it" (Gen 1:28). "The LORD God took man and put him in the garden of Eden that he might cultivate it and keep it" (Gen 2:15). And this task concerns all of us, since Adam is a collective name representing the whole of humanity. Our vocation, Genesis goes on to say, is to be the image of God, that is, inhabited by the very Spirit of God. "God said, Let us make man in our image, in our likeness...God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him, male and female he created them." (Gen 1:26-27). Adam is also the type of man who does not respond to his calling; he allowed himself to be influenced by the serpent, who instilled in him, like a poison, distrust of God. This is what Paul calls earthly behaviour, like the serpent crawling on the ground. Jesus Christ, the new Adam, on the other hand, allows himself to be guided only by the Spirit of God. In this way, he fulfils the vocation of every man, i.e. of Adam; this is the meaning of Paul's sentence: "Brothers, the first man, Adam, became a living being but the last Adam (i.e. Christ) became a life-giving spirit."

The message is clear: Adam's behaviour leads to death, Christ's behaviour leads to life. However, we are constantly torn between these two behaviours, between heaven and earth, and we can make Paul's expression our own when he cries out: 'Wretched man that I am! I do not do the good that I want, but do the evil that I do not want." (Rom 7:24, 19). In other words, the individual and collective history of all mankind is a long journey to allow ourselves to be inhabited more and more by the Spirit of God.  Paul writes: "The first man from earth is made of earth, the second man is from heaven. As the earthly man is, so are those of the earth; and as the heavenly man is, so are the heavenly. 

*From the Gospel according to Luke (6:27-38)

"Be merciful as your Father is merciful" and then you will be children of the Most High, for he is good to the ungrateful and the wicked.  This is the programme of every Christian, it is our vocation. The entire Bible appears as the story of man's conversion as he gradually learns to master his own violence. It is certainly not an easy process, but God is patient and educates his people with such patience. This slow eradication of violence from the human heart is expressed figuratively as early as the book of Genesis: violence is presented as a form of animality. God had invited Adam to name the animals, to symbolise his superiority over all creatures.  And Adam himself had recognised that he was different, superior, and did not find his equal. But next we find the story of Cain and Abel. At the moment when Cain is seized with a mad desire to kill, God says to him: "Sin is crouching (like a beast) at your door. It lurks, but you must master it' (Gen 4:7). And starting from this first murder, the biblical text shows the proliferation of vengeance (Gen 4:1-26). From the very first chapters of the Bible, violence is thus recognised: it exists, but it is unmasked and compared to an animal. Man no longer deserves to be called man when he is violent. The biblical texts thus embark on the arduous path of converting the human heart. On this path, we can distinguish stages. Let us pause on the first: "An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth" (Ex 21:24). In response to the terrible boast of Lamech (Gen 4:23), great-grandson of Cain, who gloried in killing men and children to avenge simple scratches, the Law introduced a first limit: a single tooth for a tooth, and not the whole jaw; a single life for a life, and not a whole village in retaliation. The law of retaliation thus already represented significant progress, even if it still seems insufficient today. The pedagogy of the prophets constantly addresses the problem of violence, but comes up against a great psychological difficulty: the man who agrees not to take revenge fears losing his honour. The biblical texts then show man that his true honour lies elsewhere: it consists precisely in resembling God, who is 'good to the ungrateful and the wicked'. Jesus' discourse, which we read this Sunday, represents the last stage of this education: from the law of retaliation we have moved on to the invitation to gentleness, to disinterestedness, to perfect gratuitousness. He insists: twice, at the beginning and at the end, he says 'Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you'.... God is merciful and invites us to imitate him. But here the last lines seem to change tone: 'Do not judge and you will not be judged; do not condemn and you will not be condemned. Forgive and you will be forgiven. Give and you will be given (Lk 6:37-38). Are we perhaps back to a logic of 'quid pro quo'? Of course not! Jesus is simply pointing out to us here a very reassuring path: to not fear being judged, simply do not judge or condemn others. Judge actions, but never people. Establish a climate of benevolence. In this way, fraternal relations will never be broken.

+Giovanni D'Ercole

Happy day under the Maternal Gaze of the B.V. of Lourdes.

Commentary on the readings for the VI Sunday of Ordinary Time Year C [16 February 2025].

God bless us and may the Virgin protect us.

*First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Jeremiah (17, 5 - 8)

 The prophet Jeremiah begins solemnly: "Thus says the Lord" to warn that what we are about to hear is important and serious because it is the "Lord" - that is, the very God of the Sinai Covenant - who says: "Cursed is the man who trusts in man". Here, however, two questions arise: can God curse man? And why and in what sense is trusting a man wrong? There is no doubt about it: God cannot curse us, and the Hebrew expression translated 'cursed' in the prophets is 'arur' (אָרוּר), which appears frequently in the Hebrew Bible, and its meaning is not to be understood as a direct action of God cursing, but rather as a declaration of the state of ruin or disgrace into which those who turn away from Him fall. It is therefore a prophetic warning and 'cursed is the man who trusts in man' does not indicate an active action of God, but a warning of this kind: if you choose to trust only in men and not in God, you put yourself in a situation of insecurity and failure. In the biblical mentality, God is the source of life and blessing (berakha), and turning away from Him automatically leads to 'arur (ruin, barrenness, failure). So when the prophets use 'curse', they are saying: 'Beware, this road leads to your destruction'. It is not God who casts a curse as an arbitrary punishment, but it is a spiritual law: when you stray from the source of living water (God), you inevitably find yourself in the drought of the desert. Regarding the second question concerning man trusting in man, should we mistrust one another? Certainly not, because God wants mankind to become one, and therefore any distrust between men goes against his plan of love.  This is about those who turn away from God and trust, i.e. have faith in man. The key word is trusts/has "faith", a very strong term that indicates relying, leaning absolutely on men, as one does on a rock. Without God all security is fragile and one becomes like a shrub in the desert without water doomed to die. The message is clear: if you turn away from God you become spiritually dry and unstable, like a bush in the desert, whereas if you trust, have faith, your life will be like a tree that remains green because it has its roots in water.  It is easy to understand the importance of water for a people walking in the desert, and Jeremiah speaks from experience having before his eyes the road from Jerusalem to Jericho in a desert that is completely dry for much of the year. It only renews and flourishes with the spring rains, and so, drawing on examples and images from the daily lives of his listeners, the prophet offers wise advice on the spiritual life. Faith, then, is the foundation: trusting in God is like rooting oneself in a secure rock (Mt 7:24-25). Making life dependent only on human realities such as power, success, money, relationships, leads to becoming fragile. Moreover, placing one's faith in God does not spare you from difficulties and problems, but gives you the strength to overcome every obstacle. And so every day the believer is called upon to choose: to rely only on himself and live in fear, or to root his life in God and face the storms of existence without losing heart.

One note: Jeremiah is probably denouncing the two fatal errors/sins of kings, religious leaders and the entire people: idolatry and covenants. With regard to idolatry, many have introduced into Israel various idolatrous cults and offered sacrifices to idols, and Jeremiah stigmatises this: "My people have forgotten me in order to burn offerings to those who are nothing." ( 18,15). As for alliances, the prophet criticises the policy of the kings who, instead of counting on God's protection, multiplied diplomatic manoeuvres, allying themselves from time to time with each of the powers of the Middle East, gaining only war and misfortune. Such was the case with Sedecia who, relying on diplomatic manoeuvres and his military might, went bankrupt with massacres, humiliation for himself and the people (Gr 39:1-10).

*Responsorial Psalm (1) 

This psalm, the first one, very short where every detail is significant, constitutes the interpretative key of the whole Psalter and was chosen to introduce the prayer of Israel. It opens with this word: Blessed!  "Blessed is the man who does not enter into the council of the wicked, does not remain in the way of sinners, and is not in the company of the arrogant". The word 'blessed' in the Bible comes from the Hebrew 'ashré', which expresses a state of happiness and deep contentment, a condition of blessing and inner peace that God grants to those who live according to his will. This concept is similar to 'shalom', which indicates deep and complete peace. One who avoids negative influences and finds joy in the law of the Lord, meditating on it constantly, is compared to a tree planted along streams of water, which produces fruit at the right time and whose leaves do not wither. The psalmist understood that God wants our happiness, and this is the most important thing he wanted to tell us from the beginning. To understand the meaning of the word blessed in the Bible, we have to think of the felicitations exchanged on festive occasions wishing joy and prosperity. The expression 'blessed' etymologically means to recognise him as happy and to rejoice with him; it is first and foremost a statement (you are happy), but it is also a wish, an encouragement to grow in happiness every day. It is like saying: you are on the right path, continue to be happy. The biblical term 'blessed' ultimately expresses a double dimension: ascertainment and encouragement. For this reason, many scholars, such as André Chouraqui, translate blessed as 'on the way', an image that invites us to consider human history as a long journey, during which people are continually called upon to choose the road that leads to true happiness. 

A few notes to better enter the Word:

1. In the few verses of the psalm, we find a particular insistence on the word way: "way of sinners...way of the righteous...way of the wicked" and the theme of the two ways emerges: the right way and the wrong way, good and evil. The image is clear: our life is like a crossroads, where we have to decide which direction to take. If we take the right path, each step will bring us closer to the goal; if we choose the wrong direction, each step will take us further and further away from the goal.  The whole of biblical Revelation is meant to show humanity the path to happiness that God desires for us, and for this reason it offers many signs such as the expressions blessed/unhappy or happy/unhappy that are indicators of the path. When Jeremiah in the First Reading says "Cursed is the man who trusts in man... or Isaiah proclaims "Woe to those who enact iniquitous laws" (10:1), they are not judging or condemning people definitively, but are sounding an alarm, like someone shouting to warn a passer-by of the danger of a ravine. On the contrary, expressions such as 'Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord' (Jer 17:7) or 'Blessed is the man who does not enter into the council of sinners' (Ps 1) are an encouragement: you are on the right path!

2. The theme of the two ways reminds us that we are free and the desire for happiness is inscribed in every man's heart, but we often go in the wrong direction and God's law is nothing but a guide for our freedom, a help to choose the right way. Israel knows that the Torah is a gift from God, a sign of his desire for our happiness, and therefore "his law meditates day and night".

3. When the psalm speaks of the righteous and the wicked, it refers to behaviour, not to people because there are no perfectly righteous or completely wicked men and in truth both tendencies coexist within us. Every effort to listen to the Word of God is a step on the path to true goodness. That is why the psalm says: "Blessed is the man who finds his joy in the law of the Lord".  Finally, we understand that the very literary construction of the psalm emphasises the importance of the right choice: in fact, the psalm is not symmetrical and contrasts two attitudes, that of the righteous and that of sinners, but devotes most of its time to describing the happiness of the righteous to tell us that what deserves attention is the good, not the evil. This psalm is therefore an invitation to consciously choose the path of faithfulness to God, and it is no coincidence that the psalter begins with this very word: Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord!  

* Second Reading from the First Epistle of St Paul to the Corinthians (15:12 - 20)

We understand better what St Paul wants to tell us if we think of the funeral of a Christian whose ritual includes three 'signs' of high symbolic value. Firstly, the Paschal Candle beside the coffin burns throughout the celebration as a reminder of the presence of the risen Christ alive among us. In the farewell rite following the Mass, the celebrant and, according to some customs, also the faithful sprinkle the body of the deceased with blessed water to commemorate Baptism. In addition, the celebrant incenses the coffin and this for the Christians of the first centuries was a very daring gesture because in the Roman Empire incense was burnt in front of the statues of the gods and it seemed out of place to incense a lifeless human body reduced to nothing. But this gesture is very eloquent because a Christian, from his Baptism, is a temple of the Holy Spirit as St Paul reminds us, and by forgetting this, one ends up losing the sign and value of the resurrection of bodies. The Christians of Corinth, and perhaps quite a few today, even if they believe in the resurrection of Christ, struggle to draw the consequence that for Paul is self-evident: if Christ is risen, we too shall rise. And to explain this truth of faith to us, he proceeds in two stages. First he reaffirms that Jesus is truly risen and then he draws the consequences. Since Christ's resurrection is the foundation of the Christian faith, Paul affirms that "unless Christ is risen, vain is your faith".  Indeed, if one does not believe in Christ's resurrection, the edifice of Christian faith collapses: a risk that every community runs. Let us ask ourselves: do all Catholics believe in Christ's resurrection and our resurrection? 

From this premise, St Paul draws the following argument: since Christ is risen and many have seen him alive and can bear witness to him, he is indeed the Saviour of the world and all that he said and promised is true. Through baptism we have become a temple of the Spirit and this means that the Spirit lives in us, but if the Spirit of love is the opposite of sin, sin being a lack of love for God and others, the Holy Spirit frees us from sin and we are, like Christ, inhabited by the Spirit of God, so we shall rise like him. What has been the temple of the Spirit can be transformed, but cannot be destroyed. Biological death destroys our body, but Jesus will resurrect it. 

Notes to better understand the text

1.The apostle adds "Christ is risen from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have died". In the Greek text the term used means firstfruits in the sense of the beginning of a long series. In the Old Testament, the firstfruits were the first fruits of the earth that marked the beginning of the harvest. To say that Jesus is risen as the "firstfruits of those who died" is to affirm that he is the elder brother of mankind, the first born, as Paul says elsewhere: "He is the head of the body... He is the beginning, the firstborn of those who rise from the dead, so that he may have the preeminence over all things..." (Col 1:18).

2. Ultimately, we must always return to God's merciful plan, which is to reunite all mankind in Jesus Christ as we read in the Epistle to the Ephesians (cf. Eph 1:9-10). And God certainly did not plan to reunite the dead, but the living, and Jesus explained in his discussion with the Sadducees: "As for the resurrection of the dead, have you not read what has been said to you by God: I am the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob? He is not the God of the dead, but of the living" (Mt 22:31-32).

3. There is one aspect of the mystery of the Incarnation that must not be forgotten: God takes our humanity, our body, seriously because the Word became flesh, becoming in every way similar to men, so similar that his destiny became ours: if he rose, we too shall rise. Christ's resurrection is therefore not only the happy epilogue of his personal story but the dawn of humanity's victory over death. Death is no longer a wall, but a door - and we enter it behind him. Hence the irreconcilability of the Christian faith with any idea of reincarnation. The dignity of the human being goes so far: even if our body is sometimes fragile and marked by suffering, God never treats it as something to be thrown away and replaced; our person is a whole. It may happen that we despise ourselves, but in God's eyes, we are each unique and irreplaceable. Our whole being is called to live forever beside Him.

*From the Gospel according to Luke ( 6, 17......26)

In the first reading, the prophet Jeremiah exhorted us not to rely on ourselves and material goods, but to rest our lives on God. The Gospel of the Beatitudes goes much further by stating: Blessed are you poor who put your trust in God, for he will fill you with his riches. But who are the poor according to the gospel? The term poor in the Old Testament has no connection with the bank account because in the biblical sense (anawim) poor are those who have neither a haughty heart nor a haughty look, called 'the backward-looking': they are the little ones, the humble, who, never satiated and complacent, feel that they lack something and for this very reason God can fill them. The prophets alternate in their preaching the stern and threatening tone when the people go astray and pursue wrong values, with the encouraging and consoling one when they go through moments of suffering and despair. Jesus tries to educate the disciples and the crowd by taking up the double language of the prophet in the first reading. Jeremiah says: you who put your trust in material riches, in your social position, you who are well regarded, soon they will no longer envy you, and for this you are not on the right path. If you were, you would not be so rich and so well regarded. A true prophet exposes himself to the risk of not being liked, and Jesus knows this well. A true prophet has neither the time nor the worry to accumulate money or look after his image. These four Beatitudes perfectly capture Jesus who is so poor that he had no stone on which to lay his head and died in total abandonment; he is the one who mourned the death of his friend Lazarus and knew anguish in the Garden of Olives, he mourned the fate of Jerusalem; he was hungry and thirsty in the desert and dramatically on the cross; he is the one who was despised, slandered, persecuted and finally eliminated in the name of the principles of the law and therefore of what was considered the true religion. In these Beatitudes, the promise of the Resurrection looms large and a sense of gratitude to God emerges because Jesus wants us to understand with what loving gaze the Father surrounds us, knowing that victory is already certain. He thus reveals to us God's gaze, his mercy: and we know that 'mercy' etymologically means bowels quivering with compassion. Ultimately, this is the message: man's gaze is quite different from God's; human admiration often runs the risk of mistaking the object of its enthusiasm and is directed towards the rich, the satiated, the privileged in life. God's gaze is quite different: "A poor man cries out, the Lord hears him," says the Psalm, and "A sorrowful and humiliated heart, you, O God, do not despise" (Ps 50/51). Isaiah even goes so far as to say: 'In the suffering that crushes his servant, God loves him with a love of predilection' (Isaiah 53:10). The poor, the persecuted, those who hunger and weep, God bows down to them with a predilection: not because of their merit, but because of their very condition. And so Jesus opens our eyes to another dimension of happiness: true happiness is God's gaze upon us. Certain of this gaze of God, the poor, those who weep, those who hunger, will find the strength to take their destiny into their own hands. 

A note to better enter the Word: 

I recall that André Chouraqui states that the word 'blessed' also means 'on the way'. He cites the example of the people led by Moses who found the strength to face the long march in the desert in the certainty of God's constant presence. Once again, the contrast between beatitudes and curses does not divide humanity into two distinct groups: on the one hand those who deserve words of comfort, on the other those who deserve only reproaches. All of us, depending on the moments in our lives, can find ourselves in one or the other group. And to each of us Christ says: "On the way ... you will be filled, comforted, rejoice and exult".  All this was already present in the language of the Old Testament to describe the happiness that the Messiah would bring. The disciples knew these expressions well and immediately understood what Jesus was announcing to them: You who came out of the crowd to follow me, did not do so to gather honours or riches, but you made the right choice, because you recognised the Messiah in me.

Short Commentary:

*First Reading from the Book of the Prophet Jeremiah (17:5 - 8)

 The prophet Jeremiah begins solemnly: "Thus says the Lord" to warn us that what we are about to hear is important and serious because it is the "Lord" - that is, the very God of the Sinai Covenant - who says: "Cursed is the man who trusts in man". Here, however, two questions arise: can God curse man? And why and in what sense is trusting a man wrong? There is no doubt about it: God cannot curse us, and the Hebrew expression often appears in the Bible and its meaning is not to be understood as a direct action of God cursing, but rather as a declaration of the state of ruin or disgrace into which those who turn away from Him fall. It is therefore a prophetic warning and 'cursed is the man who trusts in man' does not indicate an active action of God, but a warning of this kind: if you choose to trust only in men and not in God, you put yourself in a situation of insecurity and failure. So when the prophets use 'curse', they are saying: 'Beware, this road leads to your destruction'. It is not God who issues a curse as an arbitrary punishment, but it is a spiritual law: when you stray from the source of living water (God), you inevitably find yourself in a desert drought. Regarding the second question concerning man trusting in man, should we mistrust one another? Certainly not, because God wants mankind to become one, and therefore any distrust between men goes against his plan of love.  Here it is a question of those who turn away from God and trust, that is, put all their trust in man, leaning absolutely on men. Without God all security is fragile and one becomes like a shrub in the desert without water doomed to die. The message is clear: if you turn away from God you become spiritually dry and unstable, like a bush in the desert, while if you trust, have faith, your life will be like a tree that remains green because it has its roots in water. Faith therefore is the foundation: trusting in God is like being rooted in a secure rock (Mt 7:24-25). Making life dependent only on human realities such as power, success, money, relationships, leads to becoming fragile. Moreover, placing one's faith in God does not spare you from difficulties and problems, but gives you the strength to overcome every obstacle. And so every day The believer is called to choose: to rely only on himself and live in fear, or to root his life in God and face the storms of existence without losing heart.

*Responsorial Psalm (1) 

This psalm, the first one, very short where every detail is significant, constitutes the interpretative key of the whole Psalter and was chosen to introduce the prayer of Israel. It opens with this word: Blessed!  "Blessed is the man who does not enter into the council of the wicked, does not remain in the way of sinners, and is not in the company of the arrogant". The term 'blessed' in the Bible expresses a state of happiness and deep contentment, a condition of blessing and inner peace that God grants to those who live according to his will. This concept is similar to 'shalom', which indicates deep and complete peace. One who avoids negative influences and finds joy in the law of the Lord, meditating on it constantly, is compared to a tree planted along streams of water, which produces fruit at the right time and whose leaves do not wither. The psalmist understood that God wants our happiness, and this is the most important thing he wanted to tell us from the beginning. To understand the meaning of the word blessed in the Bible, we have to think of the felicitations exchanged on festive occasions wishing joy and prosperity. The expression 'blessed' etymologically means to recognise him as happy and to rejoice with him; it is first and foremost a statement (you are happy), but it is also a wish, an encouragement to grow in happiness every day. It is like saying: you are on the right path, continue to be happy. The biblical term 'blessed' ultimately expresses a twofold dimension: ascertainment and encouragement.

* Second Reading from the First Epistle of St Paul to the Corinthians (15:12 - 20)

We understand better what St Paul wants to tell us if we think of the funeral of a Christian whose ritual includes three 'signs' of high symbolic value. Firstly, the Paschal Candle beside the coffin burns throughout the celebration as a reminder of the presence of the risen Christ alive among us. In the farewell rite following the Mass, the celebrant and, according to some customs, also the faithful sprinkle the body of the deceased with blessed water to commemorate Baptism. In addition, the celebrant incenses the coffin and this for the Christians of the first centuries was a very daring gesture because in the Roman Empire incense was burnt in front of the statues of the gods and it seemed out of place to incense a lifeless human body reduced to nothing. But this gesture is very eloquent because a Christian, from his Baptism, is a temple of the Holy Spirit, as St Paul reminds us, and by forgetting this, one ends up losing the sign and value of the resurrection of bodies. The Christians of Corinth, and perhaps quite a few today, even if they believe in the resurrection of Christ, struggle to draw the consequence that for Paul is self-evident: if Christ is risen, we too shall rise. And to explain this truth of faith to us, he proceeds in two stages. First he reaffirms that Jesus is truly risen and then he draws the consequences. Since Christ's resurrection is the foundation of the Christian faith.  In truth, if one does not believe in the resurrection of Christ, the edifice of the Christian faith collapses: a risk that every community runs. Let us ask ourselves: do all Catholics believe in Christ's resurrection and our resurrection?  From this premise, St Paul draws the conclusion that, if through baptism we are, like Christ, indwelt by the Spirit of God, we will rise like him. Biological death destroys our body, but Jesus will resurrect it. 

*From the Gospel according to Luke ( 6, 17......26)

 In the first reading, the prophet Jeremiah exhorted us not to trust in ourselves and material goods, but to rest our lives on God. The Gospel of the Beatitudes goes much further by stating: Blessed are you poor who put your trust in God, for he will fill you with his riches. But who are the poor according to the gospel? The term poor in the Old Testament has no connection with the bank account because in the biblical sense (anawim) poor are those who have neither a haughty heart nor a haughty look, called 'the backward-looking': they are the little ones, the humble, who, never satiated and complacent, feel that they lack something and for this very reason God can fill them. The prophets alternate in their preaching the stern and threatening tone when the people go astray and pursue wrong values, with the encouraging and consoling one when they go through moments of suffering and despair. These four Beatitudes perfectly portray Jesus who is so poor that he had no stone on which to lay his head and died in total abandonment; he is the one who mourned the death of his friend Lazarus and knew anguish in the Garden of Olives, he mourned the fate of Jerusalem; he was hungry and thirsty in the desert and dramatically on the cross; he is the one who was despised, slandered, persecuted and finally eliminated in the name of the principles of the law and therefore of what was considered the true religion. In these Beatitudes, the promise of the Resurrection looms large and a sense of gratitude to God emerges because Jesus wants us to understand with what loving gaze the Father surrounds us, knowing that victory is already certain. He thus reveals to us God's gaze, his mercy. Man's gaze is quite different from God's; human admiration often runs the risk of mistaking the object of its enthusiasm and is directed towards the rich, the satiated, the privileged in life. God's gaze is quite different: 'A poor man cries out, the Lord hears him,' says the Psalm, and 'A sorrowful and humiliated heart, you, O God, do not despise' (Ps 50/51). And so Jesus opens our eyes to another dimension of happiness: true happiness is God's gaze upon us. Certain of this gaze of God, the poor, those who weep, those who hunger, will find the strength to take their destiny into their own hands.

(Mk 8:22-26)

In this section of Mk the initiation of Faith is described; in filigree, the routing to the relationship with Christ that takes away the difficulties of ‘sight’ - and the first baptismal liturgies typical rhythm.

The overall context of the passage makes it clear that the episode preludes a lengthy Jesus instruction.

He announces his Passion three times to Peter and disciples, who are reluctant to commit themselves to Cross.

When Mk was writing, the communities situation was one of deep travail. A lot of pains were experienced: it was not easy to understand so much suffering.

In 64 Nero decreed the first great persecution, which produced many victims among believers.

The following year the Jewish revolt broke out, triggering the bloody reconquest of Palestine starting from Galilee.

In the meantime, in Rome the troubles of the bloody civil war (68-69) were crumbling the idea of ​​the Golden Age and rather causing a lot of hardships.

The holy city, Jerusalem, was being razed to the ground in 70. And although Titus had returned to Rome, the war was going on in other outbreaks, until the fall of Masada (74).

In this framework, strong tensions arose outside Palestine between Jewish converts to Christ and observant Jews; and the greatest difficulty was over the interpretation of Jesus’ Cross.

For the traditionalists - and at first for the apostles themselves - a defeated and humiliated man could not be the expected Messiah.

The Torah itself stated that all the crucified were to be considered persons cursed by God [Dt 21:22-23: «the hanged man is a curse from God»].

In that very context, Mk seems to hint that... the real blind ones are Peter and the apostles themselves, conditioned by the propaganda of the Messiah glorious King; as well as the Judaizers.

Everyone wanted a triumphant Jesus. They were like blind people who understood nothing but the easy and flashy propaganda - as well as the world organized on the basis of selfishness.

In order to heal the blindness of his leaders or simple community members who were still uncertain, the Lord had to lead them «out of the village» - the place of usual, ancient illusory beliefs.

And he had to forbid his intimates to re-enter it: there, no one would ever be able to understand the value of the self-giving in ordinary existence or in assembly living, God’s testimonies (vv.23.26).

The same happened to us, like as the «blind man from Bethsaida»: only when the Relationship was internalized and consolidated, did we move from glimmers to greater clarity, learning to understand people, issues, realities.

To be finally «enlightened», we had to accept that God’s gift was introduced through the identity of life in the Son.

The Lord healed our gaze, making us grow over time. A "portent" that became recovery, also natural.

A perspective that prompted decision and action, which now even measure up to great things. Starting from a new vantage point, filled with Hope.

This is also true in the perception of discomforts, which gradually regenerate the being - because anxieties are simple voices of an energy that wants to dispel fog and ballast, and make us flourish otherwise.

These are the event-witnesses to the ‘coming’ of the Messiah in our lives.

Intimate guiding events and images, which the Gospels do not frame in a Christological or ecclesiological framework of a triumphalist kind, but rather in an almost day-to-day and spontaneous manner; very human and relational.

To say that the new person is perhaps still immersed in the shadows, but gradually places the “old man” in the background.

And in the metamorphosis of perspective gaze, in Christ each can bring his or her future person closer.

[Wednesday 6th wk. in O.T.  February 19, 2025]

(Mk 8:22-26)

The encyclical Brothers All invites us to a perspective look, which arouses decision and action: a new eye, filled with Hope.

It "speaks to us of a reality that is rooted in the depths of the human being, regardless of the concrete circumstances and historical conditioning in which he lives. It speaks to us of a thirst, of an aspiration, of a yearning for fullness, for a fulfilled life, of a measuring oneself against what is great, against what fills the heart and lifts the spirit towards great things, such as truth, goodness and beauty, justice and love. [...] Hope is audacious, it knows how to look beyond personal comfort, the small securities and compensations that narrow the horizon, to open up to great ideals that make life more beautiful and dignified" [n.55; from a Greeting to young people in Havana, September 2015].

In this section of Mk, the initiation of the Faith is described; in filigree, the instraction to the relationship with Christ that takes away the difficulties of "sight", and the typical passages of the first baptismal liturgies.

The general context of the passage makes it clear that the episode preludes a long instruction of Jesus.

He announces his Passion three times to Peter and the disciples, who are reluctant to commit themselves to the Cross.

The Master insists - not to add insult to injury and wear down his intimates.

[As the Tao Tê Ching (xxxiii) also recognises: 'That which dies but does not perish has everlasting life'].

When Mc wrote, the situation of the communities was not easy. Much suffering was experienced: it was not so easy to understand so much suffering.

In 64 Nero decreed the first great persecution, which produced many victims among the believers.

The following year, the Jewish revolt broke out, triggering the bloody reconquest of Palestine from Galilee.

In the meantime, in Rome the turmoil of the bloody civil war (68-69) was crumbling the idea of the Golden Age and rather bringing many hardships.

Finally the holy city, Jerusalem, was being razed to the ground (70).

And although Titus had returned to Rome, the war was going on in other hotbeds until the fall of Masada (74).

Within this framework, strong tensions arose outside Palestine between Jews converted to the Lord and observant Jews, and the greatest difficulty was over the interpretation of the Cross of Jesus.

For the traditionalists - and at first for the apostles themselves - a defeated and humiliated man could not be the expected Messiah.

The Torah itself stated that all the crucified were to be considered "cursed by God" [cf. Deut 21:22-23: "the hanged man is a curse from God"].

In that very context, Mk seems to hint that... the real blind ones are Peter and the apostles themselves, conditioned by the propaganda of the glorious Messiah-King, as well as the Judaizers.

They all wanted a triumphant monarch. But they were like blind men who understood nothing but the easy and flashy propaganda - and the world organised on the basis of selfishness.

In order to heal the blindness of his 'leaders' or simple community members who were still uncertain, the Son had to lead them 'out of the village' - the place of the usual, old illusory beliefs.

And forbid his intimates from re-entering it: there, no one would ever be able to understand the value of self-giving in ordinary life or in assembly living, witnesses of God (vv.23.26).

From the very beginning the initiation into the Faith included rite and the new Word.

The latter fully revealed the meaning of the first liturgies - reaching out towards a transformation that touched the whole man in concrete terms.

Mind and heart, spirit and senses, individual and community were involved - for a clear vision of the meaning of life.

In the language of the First Testament, Word and active event are expressed in a single term: 'Dabar'.

Here vision and listening coincide in a single process of perception, assimilation, internalisation and attunement, then action.

Everything in Christ and in us is offered to the senses and the intelligence.

We seem to see a catechumen being - as we used to say - "enlightened", that is, snatched from the disorientation of a paganising life.

The candidate was introduced into the new radiance of the Faith: progressively "initiated" into the Person of Christ, into the demands of Communion and Mission.

The same thing happened to the "blind man of Bethsaida".

Having made the first informal contacts with Jesus, we too began by perceiving something, perhaps in a confused way at first...

As as children, we drew 'pictures' - and at first we could not really delineate the differences, not even the outlines of the surrounding volumes.

Only when the relationship became internalised and consolidated did we move from glimmers to greater clarity, learning to understand people, themes, reality.

It has been and continues to be a 'prodigy' to be assimilated, adapting little by little to the natural course.This although it does not limit itself to an updating of cultural formulae, but finally arrives at 'compromising' the baton.

A 'sign' (John would say) of greater realities, a sign of wondrous things - if you will.

A powerful work, but one that unfolds in an evolutionary process of self-knowledge and knowledge of others, of existential learning, and flowering in the faculties.

[There is no talk of infused science; nor of 'mirabilia Dei' in the ancient sense, i.e. of a conspicuously immediate wonder. As if it were an incredible, exceptional, unrepeatable, sensational (and fortuitous - or extremely difficult and stunted) feat. To convince only someone and peremptorily].

An essential element of revelation in the sacred Scriptures - compared to other religious texts of the ancient world - is the demythologised cosmos, on a human scale.

The problems are traced back to the dialectic of our choice between death and life, as well as the ability to accept a Vocation within a Vocation.

Passages and metamorphoses serve to avoid petrifying life. They bring providential newness to woman and man, to history and sensibility.

By opening our gaze, we crumble useless convictions; we open our aptitude to listen to the proposed renewal.

Indeed, seeing what was previously unnoticed is part of the process that leads from darkness to Faith.

To be finally enlightened, we had to accept that the gift of God was introduced through the identity of life in the Son, which prompts other births.

The Lord healed our gaze by making us grow in time. A 'portent' that also became natural recovery.

The contact with the Lord that opens our eyes and makes us see more and more happens in stages - a non-point source event; also expressed through the tactile language of the Sacraments.

And step by step He lets us advance in the sharpness of insight, in the understanding of the world around us.

Perspective that aroused decision and action, which are now even measured by great things. From a new vantage point, filled with Hope.

This is also true in the perception of hardships, which gradually regenerate the being - because hardships and anxieties are mere voices of an energy that wants to dispel fog and ballast, and make us flourish otherwise.

These are the events-witnesses to the Messiah's coming in our lives.

Intimate guiding events and images, which the Gospels do not frame in a triumphalist Christological or ecclesiological framework, but rather in an almost summary and spontaneous manner - very human and relational.

To say that the new person is perhaps still immersed in the shadows, but gradually places the old man in the background.

And in the metamorphosis of his perspective gaze, in Christ he brings the future person closer.

To internalise and live the message:

What acumen of vision has the Person of Christ granted you? What intimate and engaging icon?

What leap in relationships, in terms of humanisation?

Because of Adam’s sin we too are born “blind” but in the baptismal font we are illumined by the grace of Christ. Sin wounded humanity and destined it to the darkness of death, but the newness of life shines out in Christ, as well as the destination to which we are called. In him, reinvigorated by the Holy Spirit, we receive the strength to defeat evil and to do good. 

In fact the Christian life is a continuous conformation to Christ, image of the new man, in order to reach full communion with God. The Lord Jesus is the “light of the world” (Jn 8:12), because in him shines “the knowledge of the glory of God” (2 Cor 4:6) that continues in the complex plot of the story to reveal the meaning of human existence. 

In the rite of Baptism, the presentation of the candle lit from the large Paschal candle, a symbol of the Risen Christ, is a sign that helps us to understand what happens in the Sacrament. When our lives are enlightened by the mystery of Christ, we experience the joy of being liberated from all that threatens the full realization.

[Pope Benedict, Angelus 3 April 2011]

Dear pilgrims.

You are glad to find yourselves gathered in the Pope's house. And I too am very happy to welcome you. Together, we are experiencing some "heart to heart" moments, as at the Ark of Trosly-Breuil, as in the 67 Arks of the world. All of you who have some limitations in health or who so gently surround these young people with disabilities, have a priority place in my heart as a universal Pastor. Is this not how Jesus behaved? Isn't that how parents and educators here behave?

For a few moments I want to gather with you and contemplate Jesus with you. Reading the Gospel carefully, we are - almost on every page - amazed by the Lord's attitude in his dealings with people. He has a unique way - he has, I would say, the secret - of approaching people or letting them come to him. A unique way of conversing with them by listening to them and letting them express themselves. A unique way of freeing them or beginning to free them from their miseries: he progressively opens them up to something other than themselves, to other valid realities. One might say: Jesus liberates them through a progressive decentralisation from themselves.

Therefore, like you in the Ark communities, Jesus uses with respect and delicacy the human resources of closeness, of the gaze, of gestures, of silence, of dialogue. You can also - in this meditative perspective - examine at length his encounters with the first apostles, with Nicodemus, the guests at the wedding in Cana, the Samaritan woman, Zacchaeus, the Roman centurion, the blind man of Bethsaida or the one at the pool of Siloe, Martha and Mary of Bethany, the disciples of Emmaus, Thomas, the unbelieving apostle . . .

Jesus' relationship with his compatriots manifests in the highest degree his sense of dignity, of the sacred value of each person.

You are persuaded of the unprecedented richness of this revelation, which can only be divine. but we know, unfortunately, that too many people and too many leaders of peoples forget it. your arks are and can be, even more, a serene and vigorous demonstration of sacred respect, of patient attention, of possible human promotion, in favour of children and adolescents limited from birth by various handicaps. you contribute, without making noise, to the 'civilisation of love'.

Wholeheartedly, I encourage you to continue your educational and evangelically inspired work, carried out in an original and communitarian way, in the 67 Arche spread over several continents. I imagine that this community life is not without problems. Solving them once and for all will take time. But what is important is to live with your problems, renewing and affirming each day your will, your choice of respect, of listening, of tenderness, of forgiveness, of cooperation, of hope, of joy. Truly, this behaviour alleviates the problems, creating a climate of openness of spirit and heart among those with handicaps and fostering the growth of the personality of adults devoted body and soul to their service.

I fervently invoke on the group I have the joy of receiving, but also on all the Arks of the world, on their members and their leaders, and on their founder, Monsignor Jean Vanier, renewed graces of light and divine strength.

[Pope John Paul II, Address to the Arche Community 16 February 1984]

Today’s Gospel sets before us the story of the man born blind, to whom Jesus gives sight. The lengthy account opens with a blind man who begins to see and it closes — and this is curious — with the alleged seers who remain blind in soul. The miracle is narrated by John in just two verses, because the Evangelist does not want to draw attention to the miracle itself, but rather to what follows, to the discussions it arouses, also to the gossip. So many times a good work, a work of charity arouses gossip and discussion, because there are some who do not want to see the truth. The Evangelist John wants to draw attention to something that also occurs in our own day when a good work is performed. The blind man who is healed is first interrogated by the astonished crowd — they saw the miracle and they interrogated him —, then by the doctors of the law who also interrogate his parents. In the end the blind man who was healed attains to faith, and this is the greatest grace that Jesus grants him: not only to see, but also to know Him, to see in Him “the light of the world” (Jn 9:5).

While the blind man gradually draws near to the light, the doctors of the law on the contrary sink deeper and deeper into their inner blindness. Locked in their presumption, they believe that they already have the light, therefore, they do not open themselves to the truth of Jesus. They do everything to deny the evidence. They cast doubt on the identity of the man who was healed, they then deny God’s action in the healing, taking as an excuse that God does not work on the Sabbath; they even doubt that the man was born blind. Their closure to the light becomes aggressive and leads to the expulsion from the temple of the man who was healed.

The blind man’s journey on the contrary is a journey in stages that begins with the knowledge of Jesus’ name. He does not know anything else about him; in fact, he says: “The man called Jesus made clay and anointed my eyes” (v. 11). Following the pressing questions of the lawyers, he first considers him a prophet (v. 17) and then a man who is close to God (v. 31). Once he has been banished from the temple, expelled from society, Jesus finds him again and “opens his eyes” for the second time, by revealing his own identity to him: “I am the Messiah”, he tells him. At this point the man who had been blind exclaims: “Lord, I believe!” (v. 38), and he prostrates himself before Jesus. This is a passage of the Gospel that makes evident the drama of the inner blindness of so many people, also our own for sometimes we have moments of inner blindness.

Our lives are sometimes similar to that of the blind man who opened himself to the light, who opened himself to God, who opened himself to his grace. Sometimes unfortunately they are similar to that of the doctors of the law: from the height of our pride we judge others, and even the Lord! Today, we are invited to open ourselves to the light of Christ in order to bear fruit in our lives, to eliminate unchristian behaviours; we are all Christians but we all, everyone sometimes has unchristian behaviours, behaviours that are sins. We must repent of this, eliminate these behaviours in order to journey well along the way of holiness, which has its origin in baptism. We, too, have been “enlightened” by Christ in baptism, so that, as St Paul reminds us, we may act as “children of light” (Eph 5:8), with humility, patience and mercy. These doctors of the law had neither humility, nor patience, nor mercy!

I suggest that today, when you return home, you take the Gospel of John and read this passage from Chapter nine. It will do you good, because you will thus see this road from blindness to light and the other evil road that leads to deeper blindness. Let us ask ourselves about the state of our own heart? Do I have an open heart or a closed heart? It is opened or closed to God? Open or closed to my neighbour? We are always closed to some degree which comes from original sin, from mistakes, from errors. We need not be afraid! Let us open ourselves to the light of the Lord, he awaits us always in order to enable us to see better, to give us more light, to forgive us. Let us not forget this! Let us entrust this Lenten journey to the Virgin Mary, so that we too, like the blind man who was healed, by the grace of Christ may “come to the light”, go forward towards the light and be reborn to new life.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 30 March 2014]

And the much yeast, which impoverishes

(Mk 8:14-21)

Jesus says one thing, the apostles understand another. The «leaven of the Pharisees and that of Herod» is a theme that alludes to the ideology of domination.

The disciples were close to Christ, because he was the character of the moment.

But enraptured by cheap illusions, they no longer listened to the Master, who was pursuing them.

Even today some followers do not feel like getting involved in things they do not want to know and would put them in shortage (v.14) - with the only possibility of fraternal sharing.

They seem unwilling to hear anything but proclamations of power, opulence, fame and imperial victory.

Their heads and their desires remain distant, engaged only in the validations of "swelling" and profit - despite appearances to the contrary.

They come to kidnap the Son of God for themselves, because they seem to have become exactly like the adversaries of the new Faith: hardened hearts (v.17) - eyes that do not look, ears that do not listen (v.18).

By moving away from him to turn willingly to the usual idolatries and pagan hopes.

Of course, there were confused ideas about the Messiah around - but all related to the [unfaithful] conception of ‘grandeur’.

But the authentic Messiah doesn’t want to reach an eminent position through contacts and deceptions, but rather to help needy and frightened humanity.

Many were waiting for a King, others for a high priest who was finally holy.

Some expected a guerrilla, or a healer;  others a judge or a prophet. No one a Servant.

Everyone reduced him to normal flattery, according to their interests - and class of belonging.

In fact, the very intimates of the Master showed themselves willing to go after any breeze of doctrine, as long as this could allow them to retain the treasures of the Kingdom.

Any title for the Messiah - religious, political, nationalist - could be tolerated, digested and made tameable... except the one that forced them to become servants of others.

The only uncomfortable presence.

Yet the prolonged absence of a prophetic spirit becomes the cause of many torments.

The inclination to coexistence and communion is missionary ‘truth’. Instrument for the redemption of all, starting with those who reach out to needy sisters and brothers.

By its nature and mandate, the small boat of the Church remains sent to all nations. ‘Salt of the earth’, ‘Light of the world’.

No believer must imagine himself exonerated.

Baptism has incorporated us, so that we are launched to cooperate - according to capacity and contexts.

A breath that cannot be interrupted or limited. Death would result.

In short, the Lord doesn’t ask us for marginal and nuanced behavior, but rather receptive and global ones.

Attitudes that affect the sense of history and its assets...

Because sharing the little «bread» doesn’t impoverish; rather, it enriches.

To internalize and live the message:

«They had ‘only one bread’ with them in the boat»: do you complain about it or do you evaluate its meaning?

[Tuesday 6th wk. in O.T.  February 18, 2025]