Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary  [15 August 2025]

May God bless us and the Virgin protect us. For the Feast of the Assumption, I have prepared several texts because they are biblical passages that often recur in Marian feasts and therefore, I hope, may be useful for meetings, catechesis and meditation. I sincerely wish you all a holy and peaceful Feast of the Assumption of Mary.

 *First Reading from the Book of Revelation (11:19a; 12:1-6a, 10ab)

The first sentence we read is the conclusion of chapter 11 of Revelation, which heralds the end of time and God's victory over all the forces of evil, as already mentioned in verse 15: "Then loud voices in heaven said: 'Now the kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ, and he will reign for ever and ever.'" To express this message of victory, as always in the Book of Revelation, St John uses numerous images: we have seen, in succession, the Ark of the Covenant and three characters: the woman, the dragon, and then the newborn child. The Ark of the Covenant recalls the famous ark, the golden wooden chest that accompanied the people during the Exodus on Mount Sinai and constantly reminded the people of Israel of their Covenant with God. In truth, the ark had disappeared at the time of the exile to Babylon; it was said that Jeremiah had hidden it somewhere on Mount Nebo (2 Maccabees 2:8) and it was believed that it would reappear at the coming of the Messiah. John sees it reappear: 'The temple of God in heaven was opened, and the ark of his covenant appeared in the temple' (11:19). This is the sign that the end of time has come: God's eternal covenant with humanity is finally fulfilled once and for all. Then appears "a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet and a crown of twelve stars on her head. She was pregnant and cried out in pain as she was about to give birth". Who does this woman represent? The Old Testament gives us the key, because the relationship between God and Israel is often described in nuptial terms, as in Hosea (2:21-22), while Isaiah develops the theme of marriage to the point of presenting the coming of the Messiah as a birth, since it is from Israel that the Messiah must be born (66:7-8). The woman described here represents the chosen people who give birth to the Messiah: a painful birth for the persecuted disciples of Christ, to whom John says: you are giving birth to a new humanity. The second character is the dragon, placed in front of the woman to devour her newborn son, which indicates the struggle of the forces of evil against God's plan. For the persecuted Christians to whom the Apocalypse is addressed, the word 'dragon' is not an exaggeration, and the striking description reveals the violence that afflicts them: the dragon is enormous, fiery red, with seven heads and ten horns, and seven diadems on its heads. The heads and horns represent intelligence and power, the diadems indicate imperial power that shows a real capacity to harm by dragging a third of the stars of the sky and casting them down to earth. However, only a third, so it is not a real victory, and the rest of the text will say that the power of evil is only temporary. And here is the infant: 'The woman gave birth to a son, a male child, who is to rule all nations with an iron sceptre': this is clearly the Messiah and alludes to a phrase from Psalm 2: 'The Lord said to me, "You are my son, today I have begotten you. Ask of me, and I will make the nations your inheritance, the ends of the earth your possession. You will rule them with an iron sceptre' (Ps 2:7-9). 'The child was taken up to God and to the throne' symbolises the resurrection of Christ, whom Christians considered the Firstborn, now seated at the right hand of God. Christians live in a difficult world, but they are certain of God's protection: this is the meaning of the desert, which once again recalls the exodus, during which God never ceased to care for his people, and for this reason they can rest assured: if the dragon has failed in heaven, he cannot win on earth either. To the early Christians who were severely persecuted, the Apocalypse announces victory: "Now the salvation, the power and the kingdom of our God and the power of his Christ have come" (Rev 12:10).

Additional information  1. The liturgical reading does not include the end of Rev 11:19, but it is worth reading: the scene described (lightning, voices, thunder, earthquake) recalls the moment of the conclusion of the Covenant on Sinai. "Then there were flashes of lightning, voices, thunder, an earthquake and a heavy hailstorm" (Rev 11:19), to be compared with: "On the third day, in the morning, there were thunderclaps, flashes of lightning, a thick cloud on the mountain and a loud trumpet blast" (Ex 19:16). 

2. The Apocalypse is addressed to persecuted Christians to sustain them in their trials: its content, from beginning to end, is a message of victory; but everything is coded and must be deciphered. In fact, from the very first words, the author affirms that the dragon will not be able to hinder God's salvation. The prophecy of Balaam (Num 24:17) helps us to understand the iron sceptre of the Messiah. A later Christian reinterpretation applied the vision of the woman to the Virgin Mary, which is why the liturgy offers us this text on the feast of the Assumption of Mary, because she is the first to benefit from Christ's triumph. This struggle of the dragon against the woman recalls the account in Genesis: "I will put enmity between you and the woman, between your offspring and her offspring: he will crush your head, and you will strike his heel" (Gen 3:15). This text offers a beautiful definition of salvation: the power and kingship of our God (Rev 12:10).

*Responsorial Psalm (44/45:11-16)

Today we read only the second part of Psalm 44/45, which is addressed to the bride of the king of Jerusalem on her wedding day. The first part of the psalm speaks of the king himself, covered with praise for his virtues, who is promised a glorious kingdom and whom God himself has chosen. The second part, on the feast of the Assumption, addresses the young princess who is about to become the king's bride. On a first level, therefore, this psalm seems to describe a royal wedding: the king of Israel unites with a foreign princess to seal the alliance between two peoples, a frequent occurrence in Israel as elsewhere. Throughout human history, many political alliances have been sealed by marriages. But since the religion of Israel is an exclusive covenant with the one God, every young foreign woman who became queen in Jerusalem had to accept a special condition: she also had to marry the king's religion. Specifically, in this psalm, the princess who comes from Tyre — as we are told — and who is introduced to the court of the king of Israel, must renounce her idolatrous practices in order to be worthy of her new people and her husband: 'Listen, daughter, look, lend your ear: forget your people and your father's house'. This was a crucial issue at the time of King Solomon, who had married foreign women, and therefore pagans, and later, at the time of King Ahab and Queen Jezebel: we recall the great confrontation between the prophet Elijah and the numerous priests and prophets of Baal whom Jezebel had brought with her to the court of Samaria. But, for those who can read between the lines, this advice given to the princess of Tyre is actually addressed to Israel: the royal bridegroom described in the psalm is none other than God himself, and this "daughter of the king, all adorned for her husband" is the people of Israel admitted to intimacy with their God. Once again, we are struck by the boldness of the authors of the Old Testament in describing the relationship between God and his people, and, through them, with all humanity. The prophet Hosea was the first to compare Israel to a bride (Hos 2:16-18). After him, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, the second and third Isaiah developed the theme of the marriage between God and his people; and in their texts we find all the wedding vocabulary: affectionate names, the wedding dress, the wedding crown, fidelity (cf. Jer 2:2; Isa 62:5). Unfortunately, this bride, who was all too human, was often unfaithful, that is, idolatrous, and the prophets themselves defined the infidelities of the people as adultery, that is, as a return to idolatry. The language then becomes more precise: jealousy, adultery, prostitution, but also reconciliation and forgiveness, because God always remains faithful. Isaiah, for example, speaks of Israel's deviations as a disappointment in love in the famous song of the vineyard (Isaiah 5:1-7; 54:4-10). Idolatry occupies so much space in the prophets' discourses because the covenant between God and humanity, this plan of salvation, passes through Israel's faithfulness. Israel knows this: its election is not exclusive, but only by remaining faithful to the one God can it fulfil its vocation as witness to all nations. In Mary, the Bible dares to affirm that God has asked the whole of humanity to be his bride. By celebrating Mary's Assumption and her introduction into God's glory, we anticipate the entry of the whole of humanity, following in her footsteps, into intimacy with its God.

Second Reading from the First Letter of Saint Paul to the Corinthians (1 Cor 15:20-27a)

Today's liturgy offers us Paul's meditation on Christ's resurrection, in contrast to Adam's death. This gives us food for thought: what do Christ and Mary have in common? And what does Adam lack? The Gospel of the Visitation invites us to contemplate Mary as the one who believed and accepted God's plan without understanding everything. Her response to the Angel is a model for believers: "Let it be done to me according to your word (Lk 1:38), I am the handmaid of the Lord, ready to put my life at the service of God's work. In the Magnificat, Mary reveals her deepest concerns by re-reading her life in the light of God's great plan for his people, in favour of Abraham and his descendants forever, as he had promised to the fathers. From the beginning, in the Bible, it was understood that this is the only thing God asks of us: to be ready to say, 'Here I am'. Abraham, Moses, Samuel – called by God – knew how to respond in this way. And thanks to them, God's work was able to take a step forward each time. The New Testament offers Jesus Christ as an example who, in the story of the Temptations, responds to the seductions of the tempter with only words of faith. And if he teaches us to say, in the Our Father, 'Thy will be done', it is because this is his central thought, as he tells his disciples in the episode of the Samaritan woman: 'My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to accomplish his work' (Jn 4:34). In Gethsemane, he does not deny this: 'My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me! Nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will!' (Mt 26:39). And the author of the Letter to the Hebrews sums up the whole life of Jesus as follows: 'When Christ came into the world, he said, "Here I am, I have come to do your will' (Heb 10:5-10). If Jesus submits to the will of the Father at all times and in all circumstances, it is because he trusts. We could also say of him: 'Blessed are those who have believed...'. His resurrection shows that the way of faith is truly the way of life, even if it passes through physical death. In his letters to the Romans and the Corinthians, Paul contrasts Christ's behaviour with that of Adam: Adam is the one to whom everything was offered – the tree of life, dominion over creation – but he did not believe in God's benevolence, refusing to submit to his commandments. The apostle does not want to tell us what would have happened if Adam had not sinned, but he wants to remind us that there is only one way that leads to life and brings us into the joy of God. Adam turns his back on the tree of life when he begins to doubt God, and Paul says this in the present tense because, for him, Adam is not a man of the past but a way of being human.  As the rabbis observe: Everyone is Adam to himself. We can then better understand Paul's statement that in Adam all die, that is, by behaving like Adam, we distance ourselves from God and separate ourselves from the true life that He wants to give us in abundance. On the contrary, choosing the path of trust, as Christ did, at any cost, is to enter into true life: "Eternal life is that they know you, the only true God, and the one you have sent, Jesus Christ" (Jn 17:3). To know, in biblical language, means to believe, to love, to trust. Paul asserts that in Christ all will return to life by grafting themselves onto him, that is, by adopting his way of life. Today's feast of the Assumption of Mary helps us to contemplate the fulfilment of God's plan for man when it is not hindered. Mary, fully human, did not act like Adam and expresses the destiny that every human being would have had if there had been no fall of our first parents. Like every human being, she experienced ageing and one day left this life, falling asleep in the Lord: this is the 'Dormition' of the Virgin. We can therefore affirm two simple truths: our body is not designed to last forever as it is on earth, and Mary, all pure and full of grace, fell asleep. However, Adam hindered God's plan, and the transformation of the body that we could have known, that is, the Dormition, became death with its accompanying suffering and fragility because death, which causes us so much suffering, entered the world because of sin. But where the power of death entered, God gives life: Jesus is killed by the hatred of men, but the Father raises him up, the first of the risen, who brings us into true life, where love reigns. Elizabeth says to Mary: "Blessed is she who believed..."; Jesus applies this beatitude to all who believe: "My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and put it into practice" (Lk 8:21).

NOTE When the Risen One appeared to Saul of Tarsus on the road to Damascus, the kingship of Christ was revealed to him as a certainty, and this certainty would permeate all his words and thoughts because, for him, Christ, the conqueror of death, was also the conqueror of all the forces of evil, the Messiah awaited for centuries. For this reason, in all his letters we recognise expressions of the messianic expectation of the time: "Everything will be accomplished when Christ hands over the Kingdom to God the Father, after destroying all the powers of evil"; or "He must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet", as we read in Psalm 110 (109).

From the Gospel according to Luke (1:39-56)

After the accounts of the Annunciation to Zechariah concerning the birth of John the Baptist and to Mary concerning the birth of Jesus, there follows the episode of the "Visitation," which has the appearance of a family story, but we must not be deceived: in reality, Luke is writing a profoundly theological work. We must give full weight to the central phrase: 'Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit and exclaimed with a loud voice'. It is the Holy Spirit who speaks to announce, from the very beginning of the Gospel, what will be the great news of Luke's entire account: the one who has just been conceived is the Lord. Elizabeth proclaims: "Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb": God is acting in you and through you, acting in the Son you are carrying in your womb and through him. As always, the Holy Spirit allows us to discover, in our lives and in the lives of others — of all others — the traces of God's work. Luke is certainly aware that Elizabeth's words, "Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb," echo at least in part a phrase from the Old Testament found in the Book of Judith (Jdt 13:18-19): when Judith returns from the enemy camp, where she has beheaded the general Holofernes, she is welcomed into her camp by Ozias, who says to her: "You are blessed among all women, and blessed is the Lord God." Mary is thus compared to Judith. And the parallel between the two phrases suggests two things: the repetition of the expression blessed among all women suggests that Mary is the victorious woman who guarantees humanity's definitive victory over evil; as for the final part (for Judith: blessed is the Lord God, for Mary: blessed is the fruit of your womb), it announces that the fruit of Mary's womb is the Lord himself. Therefore, this account by Luke is not a simple anecdote, and we can compare the power of Elizabeth's words with Zachariah's silence.  Filled with the Holy Spirit, Elizabeth has the strength to speak; Zechariah remains silent because he had doubted the words of the angel announcing the birth of John the Baptist. John the Baptist also expresses his joy: Elizabeth says that he 'leaped for joy' as soon as he heard Mary's voice, and he too is filled with the Holy Spirit, as the angel had announced to Zechariah: "Do not be afraid, Zechariah, your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you shall call him John. You will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth... he will be filled with the Holy Spirit from his mother's womb." Elizabeth asks herself, "Why is this happening to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?" Here too there is a reference to an episode in the Old Testament: the arrival of the Ark of the Covenant in Jerusalem (2 Sam 6:2-11). After establishing himself as king in Jerusalem and building a palace worthy of the king of Israel, David decides to bring the Ark of the Covenant to the new capital. But he is torn between fervour and fear. At first, there is a joyful stage: "David gathered all the elite of Israel, thirty thousand men. He set out with all the people... to bring up the ark of God, on which the Name, the Name of the Lord of hosts who sits on the cherubim, is invoked..." But an accident occurs: a man who touches the ark without authorisation dies instantly. Fear then takes hold of David, who exclaims: "How can the ark of the Lord come to me?" The journey is interrupted: David prefers to leave the ark in the house of a certain Obed-Edom, where it remains for three months, bringing blessings upon that house. David reassures himself: "It was told to King David, 'The Lord has blessed the house of Obed-Edom and everything he has, because of the ark of God,'" and he brings the ark up to Jerusalem with great joy, dancing with all his might before the Lord. It is clear that Luke wanted to include many details in the story of the Visitation that recall this bringing up of the ark: the two journeys, that of the ark and that of Mary, take place in the same region, the mountains of Judea; the ark enters the house of Obed-Edom and brings blessings (2 Sam 6:12), Mary enters the house of Zechariah and Elizabeth and brings blessings; the ark remains with Obed-Edom for three months, Mary remains with Elizabeth for three months; David dances before the ark and John the Baptist leaps for joy before Mary. All this is not accidental. Luke invites us to contemplate in Mary the new Ark of the Covenant. And the ark was the place of God's Presence. Mary mysteriously carries this Presence of God within her: from now on, God dwells in our humanity. "The Word became flesh and dwelt among us." All this, thanks to Mary's faith: at Elizabeth's words, Mary sings the Magnificat.

NOTE ON THE MAGNIFICAT. In this page of Luke, we find many references to other biblical texts, and fragments of many psalms can be recognised in almost every sentence. This means that Mary did not invent the words of her prayer: to express her amazement at God's action, she simply takes up expressions already used by her ancestors in the faith. There is already a double lesson here: a lesson in humility, first of all. Faced with an exceptional situation, Mary simply uses the words of her people's prayer. Then there is a lesson in community spirit, we might say in synodal ecclesial spirit. None of the biblical quotations contained in the Magnificat have an individualistic character, but all concern the entire people. This is one of the great characteristics of biblical prayer, and therefore of Christian prayer: the believer never forgets that he belongs to a people and that every vocation, far from separating him, places him at the service of that people. As for the biblical roots of the Magnificat, it can be said that it is a re-reading of the entire history of salvation: God has done wonders throughout the ages and continues to act in the present.  A. In the past: He has looked upon the humility of his servant; He has done great things for Mary; He has shown the power of his arm; He has scattered the proud; He has brought down the mighty from their thrones; He has lifted up the lowly; He has filled the hungry with good things; He has sent the rich away empty-handed; He has come to the aid of Israel, his servant. B. In the present: Mary can proclaim, "All generations will call me blessed," and this is still true today. The Lord shows mercy from generation to generation. God's mercy is an ever-present reality for those who fear him, that is, for those who open themselves to his greatness. The Magnificat therefore teaches us to contemplate God's work throughout history, in the life of the people and in our own lives. Finally, the Magnificat is at the heart of Luke's theology: God overturns the order of things: the powerful are brought low, the humble are lifted up; the rich are emptied, the poor are filled. This 'turning upside down' is already present in the prophets (especially in Isaiah and the First Book of Samuel), but Luke places it at the centre of his Gospel, which is full of parables and stories in which God gives preference to the least, the little ones, sinners and the poor. This prayer is therefore profoundly revolutionary: not in the sense of a violent revolution, but of a spiritual and social revolution that passes through mercy, justice, humility, and faith.

+ Giovanni D'Ercole

(Mt 18:21-19,1)

Throughout the ancient Middle East, non-disproportionate retaliation one to one [not cruel] was a sacred law.

Forgiveness was a humiliating and absurd attitude, an incomprehensible principle to anyone experiencing any injustice.

Conversely, in the dynamic of Faith, forgiveness becomes a power, which not only makes the air breathable, but activates our personal destiny.

Peter instead wants to know the limits of forgiveness (v.21).

Historically, at the end of the first century the picky, severe, style of the synagogue and of the Empire [«divide et impera»] reappear in believers. 

A question arises: will we have to stop welcoming?

In addition, in the same churches one begins to think that someone has sinned in lese majesty towards those who - now hard and heartless - are used to being revered.

Veterans who make trouble more than others and then dot on the minutiae of others (the weak brothers, considered subjected and destined to the fiscal rigour of moralisms, as well as penances).

While religious discipline exacerbates minute defects, the very experience of the disproportion between the forgiveness received from the Father and what we are able to offer to the brothers, makes us understand the need for tolerance.

Church should be this space of the experience of God who return life, an alternative place of fraternity.

Imperial society was harsh and uncompassionate, with no room for the small and shaky, who unassumingly sought any refuge for their hearts - but no religion gave them an answer.

Synagogues, too, identified material and spiritual blessings. Cloaked with requirements, purity rules and fulfilments, they did not offer the warmth of a welcoming place for the weak.

The issue was that in the early Christian communities themselves, some people insisted on the rigour of norms, customs and hierarchies, demanding coexistence based on the Judaizing model.

Furthermore, as the Letter of James testifies, towards the end of the first century the identical divisions of society, between miserables and wealthy, were already beginning to manifest themselves in the churches of Christ!

Welcoming space of the communities that in the Spirit had been given the task by the Lord to enlighten the world with their seed of life as a ‘shelter for all’ (and of alternative relationships) ran the risk of becoming again a place of conflict, judgement, punishment, condemnation.

«So also my heavenly Father will do to you, if you do not condone each one to his own brother from your heart» (v.35).

Divine forgiveness becomes effective and evident only in the testimony of the Church (v.35) where sisters and brothers - instead of showing themselves to be meticulous, let themselves be guided by a Vision of new heavens and new earth.

For this reason - without any effort, indeed blessing the needs of others as territories of preparatory energies - they live the communion of resources and remit even material debts, a misery.

Otherwise, we would always have to live in the incumbency of an indulgent God perhaps, but at times, and according to the cases retracting the doing of mercy.

It would be a life without surprising developments, all weighted down in a swamp of little pennies.

Instead, it’s the active energy of the Faith that doesn’t condemn us to trudge.

The magnanimity that comes out of the automatisms shifts our gaze and brings us an ineffable and growing wave, far ahead of what we can imagine.

Our surrenders are preparing new developments - the ones that count, without limitations.

The "win-or-lose" alternative is false: you have to get out of it.

[Thursday 19th wk. in O.T.  August 14, 2025]

(Mt 18:21-19:1)

Throughout the ancient Middle East, disproportionate retaliation (one for one, not cruel) was sacred law.

Forgiveness was a humiliating and absurd attitude, an incomprehensible principle for anyone who experienced injustice or tragedy.

Conversely, in the dynamic of faith, forgiveness becomes a power that not only makes the air breathable, but also activates our personal destiny.

The Gospel according to Matthew devotes considerable attention to the theme of forgiveness and the need to resolve internal friction within the Church, where everyone seems to want to crush the other, even if only out of spiritual envy.

One wonders: is there a different counterpart to the pagan principle of retributive justice [uncuique jus suum], which, taken to extremes, ends up accentuating divisions?

What is the most reasonable behaviour for those who have been welcomed by God and forgiven in an exorbitant way?

It is not enough to counter this with a good-natured, even noble, value - but for this very reason, out of proportion - if it excludes the time of a journey, the horizon of development that ultimately supplants [and does not simply overlook: the so-called 'being positive'].

The only solution free of dormant revenge is to have a sense of the immeasurable, of gratuitous forethought - received without merit or conditions; with a view to new paths.

First of all, we must realise that the decisive element in overcoming obstacles is not our strength or an induced voluntarism, which tears us and our brothers apart and destroys the atmosphere of conviviality.

Only a dizzying emotion can integrate our impulses and all our affections, and bring to the surface the seeds of passions that make us dizzy.

Personal or external ecstasy; unknown and neglected or unexpressed, to which we have not yet given space.

In fact, in our daily lives, it seems normal to react immediately and violate situations with impudence, then raise hell over minor infractions by others - even claiming to suffocate those responsible for trifles.

Obviously, even immediately after we have begged and promised in the ritual.

Matthew offers even paradoxical nuances on forgiveness, always placing his catechesis on a priceless level, in the perspective of spousal and creative faith.

He insists on this in several passages because the communities he addresses are very poor, still rooted in the narrow-mindedness of ancient religiosity.

As happens not only in groups linked to the baggage of the tradition of the 'fathers' - not of the Father - the members of the communities of Galilee and Syria experienced the normality of disagreements, different opinions and all conflicts as an affront.

It seems incredible, but those who feel they possess a licence of immunity [linked to futuristic myths or sacred inhibitions, outdated restraints and observances or cosmic projects of abstract subversion] find it more difficult to enter into the minute logic of coexistence, of confrontation - of disproportion, of boundlessness, of the Gift that favours coexistence itself.

Peter wants to know the limits of forgiveness (v. 21).

Historically, at the end of the first century, the scrupulous, severe style of the synagogue and the Empire [divide et impera: 'divide and rule'] had reappeared among believers.

The question arose and was raised again: should we stop welcoming?

In addition, within the churches themselves, people began to think that some had committed lese majesty against those who, now hardened and heartless, were accustomed to being revered.

Veterans who did more than others and then nitpicked at the minutiae of others (the weak brothers, considered subordinates and destined for the fiscal rigour of moralism and penance).

Does the insolvent debtor of the Gospel take it out on those who owe him a few pennies?

The excessive forgiveness of the living and true God can only be manifested to the world through a community that raises grudges and relationships to a new level - simply a more normal one.

The Tao Te Ching (x) says: 'Let creatures live and feed them, let them live and do not keep them as your own; work and expect nothing, let them grow and do not govern them. This is the mysterious virtue'.

In commentary, Master Wang Pi writes: 'The Tao never acts, creatures transform themselves. Do not obstruct their source, do not hinder their nature. Creatures grow and satisfy themselves by themselves'.

Master Ho-shang Kung adds: 'The Tao makes the ten thousand creatures grow and nourishes them, but does not harm them by governing them as if they were instruments. The implementation of virtue by the Tao is mysterious and obscure, and cannot be scrutinised. It wants to induce men to be like the Tao'.

Even today, legalistic practice exaggerates minor faults, but the very experience of the disproportion between the forgiveness received from the Father and what we are able to offer to our brothers and sisters makes us understand the need for indulgence.

Tolerance lived in a situation, not just in principle.

Even more so in times of global crisis, the Church should be this space of experience of God who restores life. An alternative place of fraternity that is less cheap, less sophisticated.

Imperial society was harsh and without compassion, with no room for the small and weak, who without too many pretensions sought any refuge for their hearts - but no religion responded to their need for understanding.

Even the synagogues identified material and spiritual blessings. Shrouded in prior requirements, purity rules and obligations, they did not offer the warmth of a welcoming place for the weak.

The trouble was that in the early Christian communities themselves, some insisted on strict rules.

They demanded that people live together according to the Jewish model or according to rigid, abstract principles that had no practical application.

Furthermore, as the letter of James testifies, towards the end of the first century, the same divisions that existed in society were already beginning to appear in the churches of Christ, between the poor and the wealthy!

The welcoming space of the communities that had been given the task by the Lord in the Spirit to enlighten the world with their seed of life as Houses for all, of alternative relationships, was in danger of becoming once again a place of conflict, judgement, punishment and condemnation.

As usual: no Good News for the least, who were exhausted everywhere. 

And this unspeakable climate sowed death even for others, even those more fortunate - but trapped in harsh reality.

What to do?

The fundamental educational function of the Church is still to include; to make people understand that the initiative can only come from the creditor (vv. 21-22, 27, 33): he too is one of the 'lost' (v. 25).

Only through an intimate awareness of the Faith can we overcome the ruthlessness of competition and retributive justice.

There is no wisdom in being pretentious and unforgiving just to feel important (vv. 28-30).

Our failures are preparing new developments - those that matter, without limitations.

"So also my heavenly Father will do to you, if you do not forgive your brother from your heart" (v. 35).

Divine forgiveness becomes effective and evident in the witness of the Church, where sisters and brothers, instead of being petty, are moved to help one another.

They allow themselves to be guided by a vision of new heavens and a new earth.

For this reason, without any effort, indeed blessing the needs of others as territories of preparatory energies, they live in communion of resources and forgive even material debts, which are ultimately a poverty.

Otherwise, we would always have to live under the shadow of a God of retribution.

And in this way we would reveal him: perhaps indulgent, but only for a time; a God who withdraws his mercy, as Pope Francis would say.

Thus, we would live under the whip of our tormentors, who advocate a way of life that is proper but artificial, made up of exchanges without imagination.

An anticipated hell of pettiness, which underestimates and ridicules the Measure of the Gospel. Good News that goes hand in hand with differences.

Even the balancing of remissions would not save us from the offence (this one truly enormous) of stagnation that levels essences - and therefore from ruin.

It is beautiful and fruitful to live in the imbalance of gratuitousness, rather than in giving and receiving. This also happens with God.

Through forgiveness, we not only improve the obsessive atmosphere and attest to our belief - e.g. in the Cross - but we also build a flexible and malleable experience, full of recovery and being. 

Amazement; openness, flexibility, disproportion.

The rest remains mere commentary.

Echoes of a subject that trivially proposes to ratify the 'contract'.

Traces of an environment that remains where it is - until new forces take over.

It would be a life without wonderful developments, weighed down by the 'do ut des' and the swamp of small change.

Instead, it is the active energy of Faith that overcomes defined agreements. And it does not condemn us to struggle.

The ever-increasing magnanimity that emerges from automatisms shifts the gaze away from small cuts.

It brings an ineffable and growing Wave. Much further ahead than we can imagine.

The 'victory or defeat' alternative is false: we must get out of it.

To internalise and live the message:

Do you know how to live in the imbalance of gratuitousness?

Do you rush and judge, or do you perceive and wait?

Is your life of faith constituted by the giving and receiving typical of banal religion, or by the awareness that you are bound to echo what the Father has already given you in abundance?

What is the space for reconciliation in your reality?

What do you mean in concrete terms by the Gospel?

Forgiveness and Faith: A living encounter

Eccentric gratuitousness, moving forward: the sacrament of humanity as such

(Lk 17:1-6)

Knowledge of God is not a confiscated good or an acquired and already seized science: it moves from one action to another, incessantly; it is realised in an ever-living Encounter that neither blocks us nor dissolves us.

The experience of the 'little ones' [mikròi v.2] is typical. From the earliest communities of faith, they were those who lacked security and energy; unstable and without support.

The 'little ones' have always been the beginners, the newcomers who have heard about Christian brotherhood but are sometimes forced to stand aside or give up the journey.

But the criterion of welcome, tolerance, communion, even of material goods, was the first and main catalyst for the growth of the assemblies.

It was even the source and meaning of all the formulas and signs of the liturgy.

The existential and ideal centre towards which to converge. For a proactive and self-transforming faith.

In the Spirit of the Master, even for us, the reconciliation of friction is not simply a work of magnanimity.

It is the beginning of the future world. The beginning of an unpredictable and indescribable adventure. And with it, we are suddenly reborn: we have come into direct contact with Christ. He who does not extinguish us at all.

Hence the Christian forgiveness of children, which is not... 'looking on the bright side' and 'turning a blind eye': rather, it is the Newness of God that creates an environment of Grace, propulsive, with enormous possibilities.

A force that bursts forth and paradoxically allows the dark poles to meet, instead of shaking them off. Genuinely eliminating comparisons, useless words and burdens that block the transparent Exodus.

A dynamic that leads to the indispensable and essential: shifting one's gaze. Teaching us to become aware of our own hysteria, to know ourselves, to face anxiety and its causes, to manage situations and moments of crisis.

A malleable virtue that allows us to listen intimately to our personal essence.

Thus, solid, broad empathy introduces new energies; it brings together our deepest states, even our standard lives... giving rise to other knowledge, different perspectives, unexpected relationships.

In this way, without too much struggle, it renews us and curbs the loss of truthfulness [typically in favour of circumstantial manners]. It accentuates the capacity and horizons of Peace - breaking down primates and stagnant equilibriums.

The discovery of new sides to our being conveys a sense of greater completeness, thus spontaneously curbing external influences, dissolving prejudices and preventing us from acting on an emotional, impulsive basis.

Rather, it places us in a position to reveal the hidden and astonishing meaning of being. Unfolding the crucial horizon.

Activating 'Forgiveness' is a free restoration of one's character, of all lost dignity, and far beyond.

By setting aside judgements, the art of tolerance broadens our gaze [even our inner gaze]. It improves and enhances the dull aspects of ourselves, those we ourselves had detested.

In this eccentric way, it transforms those considered distant or mediocre [mikroi] into trailblazers and brilliant inventors. Because what was unthinkable yesterday will be a source of clarification and inspiration tomorrow.

Confusion will acquire meaning - precisely thanks to the thinking of minds in crisis and the actions of the despised, the intruders, those outside the circle and beyond predictability.

A life of pure faith in the Spirit: that is, the imagination of the 'weak'... in power.

Because it is the paradoxical mechanism that makes us evaluate the crossroads of history, activates passions, creates sharing and solves real problems.

And so it pushes difficult moments forward (bringing us back to the true path) and directs reality towards concrete good.

Making it fly towards itself.

The 'victory or defeat' alternative is false: we must get out of it. It is in this 'void' and Silence that God makes his way.

Mystery of Presence, overflowing. New Covenant.

The words spoken by Jesus after his invocation, “Father”, borrow a sentence from Psalm 31[30]: “into your hand I commit my spirit” (Ps 31[30]:6). Yet these words are not a mere citation but rather express a firm decision: Jesus “delivers” himself to the Father in an act of total abandonment. These words are a prayer of “entrustment” total trust in God’s love. Jesus’ prayer as he faces death is dramatic as it is for every human being but, at the same time, it is imbued with that deep calmness that is born from trust in the Father and from the desire to commend oneself totally to him.

In Gethsemane, when he had begun his final struggle and his most intense prayer and was about to be “delivered into the hands of men” (Lk 9:44), his sweat had become “like great drops of blood falling down upon the ground” (Lk 22:44). Nevertheless his heart was fully obedient to the Father’s will, and because of this “an angel from heaven” came to strengthen him (cf. Lk 22:42-43). Now, in his last moments, Jesus turns to the Father, telling him into whose hands he really commits his whole life. 

Before starting out on his journey towards Jerusalem, Jesus had insisted to his disciples: “Let these words sink into your ears; for the Son of man is to be delivered into the hands of men” (Lk 9:44).

Now that life is about to depart from him, he seals his last decision in prayer: Jesus let himself be delivered “into the hands of men”, but it is into the hands of the Father that he places his spirit; thus — as the Evangelist John affirms — all was finished, the supreme act of love was carried to the end, to the limit and beyond the limit.

Dear brothers and sisters, the words of Jesus on the Cross at the last moments of his earthly life offer us demanding instructions for our prayers, but they also open us to serene trust and firm hope. Jesus, who asks the Father to forgive those who are crucifying him, invites us to take the difficult step of also praying for those who wrong us, who have injured us, ever able to forgive, so that God’s light may illuminate their hearts; and he invites us to live in our prayers the same attitude of mercy and love with which God treats us; “forgive us our trespasses and forgive those who trespass against us”, we say every day in the Lord’s prayer. 

At the same time, Jesus, who at the supreme moment of death entrusts himself totally to the hands of God the Father, communicates to us the certainty that, however harsh the trial, however difficult the problems, however acute the suffering may be, we shall never fall from God’s hands, those hands that created us, that sustain us and that accompany us on our way through life, because they are guided by an infinite and faithful love. Many thanks.

[Pope Benedict, General Audience, 15 February 2012]

2. Forgiveness! Christ taught us to forgive. He spoke of forgiveness many times and in various ways. When Peter asked him how many times he should forgive his neighbour, "up to seven times?", Jesus replied that he should forgive "up to seventy times seven" (Mt 18:21f). This means, in practice, always: in fact, the number "seventy" for "seven" is symbolic and means, rather than a specific quantity, an incalculable, infinite quantity. Responding to the question of how we should pray, Christ uttered those magnificent words addressed to the Father: "Our Father who art in heaven"; and among the requests that make up this prayer, the last one speaks of forgiveness: "Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us" (= "our debtors"). Finally, Christ himself confirmed the truth of these words on the Cross when, turning to the Father, he pleaded: "Forgive them!", "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do" (Lk 23:34).
"Forgiveness" is a word spoken by the lips of a man who has been wronged. Indeed, it is the word of the human heart. In this word of the heart, each of us strives to overcome the barrier of enmity that can separate us from others, seeking to rebuild the inner space of understanding, contact and bond. Christ taught us with the words of the Gospel, and above all with his own example, that this space opens up not only before other people, but at the same time before God himself. The Father, who is a God of forgiveness and mercy, desires to act precisely in this space of human forgiveness. He desires to forgive those who are capable of forgiving one another, those who seek to put into practice those words: "Forgive us... as we forgive".
Forgiveness is a grace that must be considered with deep humility and gratitude. It is a mystery of the human heart that is difficult to explain.
5. Christ taught us to forgive. Forgiveness is also indispensable so that God can pose questions to the human conscience, questions to which He awaits an answer in all inner truth.
In this time, when so many innocent people are dying at the hands of other people, there seems to be a special need to approach each of those who kill, to approach them with forgiveness in our hearts and with the same question that God, Creator and Lord of human life, asked of the first man who had attempted to take the life of his brother and had taken it from him — had taken what belongs only to the Creator and Lord of life.
Christ taught us to forgive. He taught Peter to forgive 'seventy times seven times' (Mt 18:22). God himself forgives when man responds to the question addressed to his conscience and to his heart with all the inner truth of conversion.
Leaving to God himself the judgement and sentence in its definitive dimension, we do not cease to ask: "Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors".
[Pope John Paul II, General Audience, 21 October 1981]

This […] Gospel passage (cf. Mt 18:21-35) offers us a lesson on forgiveness which does not deny wrongdoing, but recognizes that human beings, created in God’s image, are always greater than the evil they commit. Saint Peter asks Jesus: “Lord, how often shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?” (v. 21). To Peter, forgiving the same person seven times already seemed the maximum possible. And perhaps to us it may already seem too much to do so twice. But Jesus answers, “I do not say to you seven times, but seventy times seven” (v. 22), meaning always. You must always forgive. And he confirms this by telling the parable of the merciful king and the wicked servant, in which he shows the inconsistency of the man who was first forgiven and then refused to forgive.

The king in the parable is a generous man who, spurred by compassion, forgives an enormous debt — “10,000 talents”: enormous — to a servant who beseeches him. That same servant, however, as soon as he meets another servant like himself who owes him 100 dinarii — which is much less — behaves in a ruthless way and has him thrown in prison. The servant’s inconsistent behaviour is the same as ours when we refuse to forgive our brothers and sisters. Whereas the king in the parable is the image of God who loves us with a love that is so rich in mercy as to welcome us, love us and forgive us continuously.

From the time of our Baptism, God has forgiven us, releasing us from an intractable debt: original sin. But that is the first time. Then, with boundless mercy, he forgives us all our faults as soon as we show even the least sign of repentance. This is how God is: merciful. When we are tempted to close our heart to those who have offended us and tell us they are sorry, let us remember our Heavenly Father’s words to the wicked servant: “I forgave you all that debt because you besought me; and should not you have had mercy on your fellow servant, as I had mercy on you?” (vv. 32-33). Anyone who has experienced the joy, peace and inner freedom which come from being forgiven should open him or herself up to the possibility of forgiving in turn.

Jesus wished to introduce the teaching of this parable into the Our Father. He linked the forgiveness which we ask from God with the forgiveness that we should accord our brothers and sisters: “And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors” (Mt 6:12). God’s forgiveness is the symbol of his “overflowing” love for each of us. It is the love that leaves us free to distance ourselves, like the prodigal son, but which awaits our return every day. It is the resourceful love of the shepherd for the lost sheep. It is the tenderness which welcomes each sinner who knocks at his door. The Heavenly Father —  our Father — is filled, is full of love and he wants to offer it to us, but he cannot do so if we close our heart to love towards others.

May the Virgin Mary help us to become ever more aware of the gratuitousness and the greatness of the forgiveness received from God, to become merciful like him, Good Father, slow to anger and great in love.

[Pope Francis, Angelus, 17 September 2017]

In the midst of the reconciled: the change of course and destiny in the Kingdom

(Mt 18:15-20)

«The word that the Evangelist uses for "agree" is synphōnēsōsin:  there is reference made to a "symphony" of hearts» [Pope Benedict].

This new malleable energy has a mysterious grip on the heart of reality - which is always stronger than we are; it unfolds the plot and proposes, but here, conversely, it welcomes us.

Or it disturbs us with discomfort... which, however, is already therapy. Because every tear leads to the deep layers of our primordial being, our seed and its own world of relationships.

And then the soul loosens up, becomes less tortuous, follows a direction it was not thinking of; it finds the intoxicating road of deep attunements, abandons the shoddy path.

It prefers the Way that corresponds to person, more than the identifications: all the idols that previously held sway, which - despite appearances - struggled with our essential destination.

And without running away from ourselves, but only from external conventions, 'together' we can move from one-sidedness to wholeness, from banality to fullness; to the reason why we are in the world; to the destiny of being that we are.

Perhaps we could not perceive it before, because the eye was bouncing between the walls of the usual domestications.

And the ephemeral, addictive thought did not destroy the idea [without perception] of ourselves; an idea without listening, which did not vanish.

Fraternal correction tugs at our throats, but it is that bitterness that brings back the essentials; it is that anxiety (if accepted) that truly heals us.

Mt suggests dialogue, which attempts to understand the motives of the other.

Indeed, in the early Judeo-Christian realities, the climate was perhaps overly scrupulous.

Thus detachment from the community was also foreseen, but there remained the knowledge that the sinner was not a divided from God, even 'outside' the particular church: «Where are two or three gathered in my Name» (v.20).

It is the centre of the new pedagogical concept - no longer “religious” and mass, but of living and personal Faith.

The expression «in my Name» indicates that Jesus himself had his hands full with the judges of his time.

All real. Even an exclusion can unite us to Him and bring Him to life concretely.

If the true - not vague - Christ remains the pivot of the fraternity, the Father will grant the return of the excluded brother.

Obviously, this can only happen if the excluded person experiences that community leaders first, seek human confrontation - following the same position as the Master: «in the midst».

Equidistant from all people, and every now and then with a turnover of tasks.

Those who still make us see Jesus alive today do not stand “above” others; they do not take the lead, nor do they place themselves “in front” [so that some are close and others always far away].

People among people. We are called to rediscover the weld between honour to God and love for our sisters and brothers.

Love calls for love, forgiveness spontaneously attracts forgiveness - not out of effort, not out of good manners or duty, but as a channel for to enter the world new preparatory energies, and twists.

Fragrant sign of the Church is the reversal of roles and courses.

[Wednesday 19th wk. in O.T.  August 13, 2025]

In the midst of the reconciled: the change of course and destiny in the Kingdom

(Mt 18:15-20)

"The verb the evangelist uses for 'they will be reconciled' is synphōnēsōsin: there is a reference to a 'symphony' of hearts" [Pope Benedict, Vespers at the Conclusion of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, 25 January 2006].

This new malleable energy has a mysterious grip on the heart of reality - which is always stronger than we are; it unfolds the plot and proposes, but here, conversely, it welcomes us.

That is, it disturbs us with discomfort... which, however, is already the therapy. Because every tear leads to the deep layers of our primordial being, our seed and its own world of relationships.

And then the soul loosens up, becomes less tortuous, follows a direction it was not thinking of; it finds the intoxicating road of deep attunements, it abandons the bad path.

It prefers the Way that corresponds to it, more than identifications: all the idols that previously had the upper hand, which - despite appearances - struggled with our essential destination.

- Without escaping from oneself, but only from external conventions, Together we can move from one-sidedness to wholeness, from banality to fullness; to the reason why we are in the world; to the destiny of being that we are.

Perhaps we could not perceive it before, because the eye bounced between the walls of the usual domestication.

And ephemeral, habituated thought did not destroy the idea [without perception] of ourselves; idea without hearing, which did not fade away.

Fraternal correction clutches at our throats, but it is that bitterness that brings back the essential; it is that anxiety (if accepted) that truly heals us.

After the destruction of Jerusalem, the contrast between the world of the synagogue and the new fraternities in Christ was growing.

Converts to the Lord Jesus from the Judaizing communities of Galilee and Syria were experiencing a time of great tension, even within their families of origin.

At the same time, the influx of pagans was beginning, who were gradually accentuating their detachment from Judaism - both in the external confrontation, between synagogue and 'ecclesiology', and in the internal debate in the small assemblies.

It was not at all easy to rebuild relationships and bring people from different backgrounds into dialogue, with a cultural background marked by adherence to archaic forms of religiosity; devotion that made them obstinate in everything.

But the Risen One sees far ahead.

In the spirit of Faith that supplants the narrow-mindedness of impulsive or idolatrous convictions, Mt seeks to sustain the conviviality of differences in his communities.

The evangelist does this by emphasising reconciliation, and the right position of those who wished to make themselves a living sign of the Lord's Presence.

At the threshold of the tiny churches, newcomers often failed to find a serene welcome; rather, they had to undergo examination and rigmarole by malphilic veterans, and live in an atmosphere of suspicion.

Those at the top of the class, always punctilious in the defence of their beliefs and prominent positions, felt the presence of some brethren of faith (freer than themselves) as an encumbrance and a burden.

Many heathens who were initially confident and motivated by expectations of candour were also turning away, annoyed by the mistrustful climate of the legalists. Legalists who in fact tended to reproduce the same competitive atmosphere as the ancient religions.

Other defections were also motivated by the emergence of grey areas and internal scandals.

Some perhaps took advantage of the management of goods, or despite formal conversion remained selfish and withheld their own - usurping the dignity of the Minims and defacing the atmosphere of cordiality.

Almost all of them [the same ones who wanted to corner the new or erring ones] squabbled for precedence, creating a climate of resentment that accentuated friction and dampened the Faith, even to the point of historically ruining it.

Matthew suggests dialogue, which attempts to understand the motives of the other.

Indeed, in the early Judeo-Christian realities, the climate was perhaps overly scrupulous. [Later excommunication also became a weapon...].

Thus detachment from the community was also foreseen, but the knowledge remained that the sinner was still not separate from God, even 'outside' the particular church: "Where two or three are gathered together in my Name..." (v.20).

This is the centre of the new pedagogical conception - no longer 'religious' and mass, but of living and personal Faith.

The expression 'in my Name' indicates that Jesus himself had his hands full with the judges of his time.

All real. Even an exclusion can unite one to Him and make Him come alive concretely.

If the true - not vague - Christ remains the pivot of the fraternity, the Father will grant the return of the excluded brother.Of course, this can only happen if the excluded one experiences that community leaders first seek human confrontation - not being princely, but rather following the same position as the Master: 'in the middle'.

Equidistant from everyone, and every now and then with a nice change of duties - an event foreseen by the new canon law, but totally disregarded on the ground - because still only the chosen ones can actually put their noses into the things that matter, and hands and feet into the leading roles.

Those who still make us see Jesus alive today do not stand 'above' others; they do not take the lead, nor do they place themselves 'in front' [so that some are close and others always far away].

People among people. We are called to rediscover the weld between honour to God and love for our sisters and brothers - not only of conforming faith.

Love calls for love, forgiveness spontaneously attracts forgiveness - not out of effort, not out of good manners or duty, but as a channel for new preparatory energies and twists to enter the world.

Fragrant sign of the Church is the reversal of roles and fates. The 'victory-or-defeat' alternative is false: one must come out of it.

To internalise and live the message:

What convinces people to forgive or make fraternal correction, perhaps the example of gratuitousness and the way church leaders position themselves? 

Do they correct each other amiably or is there envy and friction?

In your community, are those who claim to represent Christ in the middle or are they always head and shoulders above the table?

The word that the Evangelist uses for "agree" is synphonesosin:  there is reference made to a "symphony" of hearts. This he took from the heart of God. Agreement in prayer is therefore important as it is welcomed by the Heavenly Father.

Asking together already marks a step towards unity between those who ask. This certainly does not mean that God's answer is in some way determined by our request. We know well:  the hoped-for fulfilment of unity depends in the first place on the will of God, whose plan and generosity surpass the understanding of man and his own requests and expectations.

Relying precisely on divine goodness, let us intensify our common prayer for unity, which is more than ever a necessary and very effective means, as John Paul II reminded us in the Encyclical Ut Unum Sint:  "Along the ecumenical path to unity, pride of place certainly belongs to common prayer, the prayerful union of those who gather together around Christ himself" (n. 22).

Analyzing these passages in greater depth, we understand better the reason why the Father responds positively to the request of the Christian Community:  "For", Jesus says, "where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I in the midst of them".

It is the presence of Christ that makes the common prayer of those gathered in his Name effective. When Christians gather to pray together, Jesus himself is in their midst. They are one with Christ, who is the only mediator between God and man.

The Second Vatican Council's Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy refers precisely to this Gospel passage to indicate one of the ways that Christ is present:  "He is present when the Church prays and sings, for he has promised "where two or three are gathered together in my name there am I in the midst of them' (Mt 18: 20)" (Sacrosanctum Concilium, n. 7).

[Pope Benedict, Vespers 25 January 2006]

4. «Come and see». You will meet Jesus where men and women are suffering and hoping: in the little villages, scattered across the continents and seemingly on the fringe of history, as Nazareth was when God sent his Angel to Mary; in the huge metropolises, where millions of human beings live often as strangers. In reality, every human being is a «fellow citizen» of Christ.

Jesus is living next to you, in the brothers and sisters with whom you share your daily existence. His visage is that of the poorest, of the marginalized who, not infrequently, are victims of an unjust model of development, in which profit is given first place and the human being is made a means rather than an end. Jesus' dwelling is wherever a human person is suffering because rights are denied, hopes betrayed, anxieties ignored. There, in the midst of humankind, is the dwelling of Christ, who asks you to dry every tear in his name, and to remind whoever feels lonely that no one whose hope is placed in Him is ever alone (cf. Mt 25:31-46).

5. Jesus dwells among those who call on Him without having known Him; among those who, after beginning to know Him, have lost Him through no fault of their own; among those who seek Him in sincerity of heart, while coming from different cultural and religious contexts (cf. Lumen Gentium, 16). As disciples and friends of Jesus, become agents of dialogue and collaboration with those who believe in a God who rules the universe with infinite love; be ambassadors of the Messiah you have found and known in his «dwelling», the Church, so that many more young people of your age may be able to follow in his footsteps; their way lighted by your fraternal charity and by the joy in your eyes that have contemplated Christ.

Jesus dwells among the men and women «honoured with the name of Christian» (cf. Lumen Gentium, 15 ). All are able to meet Him in the Scriptures, in prayer and in service of their neighbours. On the eve of the third millennium, it is becoming every day a more urgent duty to repair the scandal of the division among Christians, strengthening unity through dialogue, prayer in common and witness. It is not a matter of ignoring differences and problems in the detachment of a lukewarm relativism; that would be like covering the wound without healing it, with the risk of interrupting the journey before reaching the goal of full communion. On the contrary, it is a matter of working – under the guidance of the Holy Spirit – with a view to effective reconciliation, trusting in the efficacy of Jesus' prayer on the eve of his passion : «Father, that they may be one even as we are one» (cf. Jn 17:22). The more you cling to Jesus the more capable you will become of being close to one another; and insofar as you make concrete gestures of reconciliation you will enter into the intimacy of his love.

Jesus dwells especially in your parishes, in the communities in which you live, in the associations and ecclesial movements to which you belong, as well as in many contemporary forms of grouping and apostolate at the service of the new evangelization. This rich variety of charisms is a benefit for the whole Church, and an encouragement for every believer to place his or her capacities at the service of the one Lord, fount of salvation for all humankind.

7. Jesus lives among us in the Eucharist, the supreme fulfilment of his real presence, a presence that is contemporary with the history of humankind. Amidst the uncertainties and distractions of daily life, imitate the disciples on their way to Emmaus; like them, say to the Risen One, revealed in the act of breaking the bread: «Stay with us, for it is toward evening and the day is now far spent» (Lk 24:29). Call out to Jesus to remain with you always along the many roads to Emmaus of our time. May He be your strength, your point of reference, your enduring hope. May the Eucharistic Bread, dear young people, never be lacking on the tables of your existence. And may you draw from this Bread the strength to bear witness to the faith!

Around the Eucharistic table the harmonious unity of the Church is realized and made manifest; the mystery of missionary communion, in which all feel that they are children, sisters and brothers, without any exclusion or difference from race, language, age, social situation or culture. Dear young people, make your generous and responsible contribution to the constant building up of the Church as a family, a place of dialogue and mutual acceptance, a space of peace, mercy and pardon.

[Pope John Paul II, Message on the occasion of the XII World Youth Day, from Castel Gandolfo 15 August 1996]